Prolog
They laughed at him as he passed them; pointing at him and shouting insults as he was guided down the hall to his cell.
As he sat there in the dark, he thought. He had been a king; no one had dared to cross him without fear of being mangled beyond recognition. But now he was the laughing stock of the city. They no longer feared or respected him. And it was all because of her.
A weak, tiny pixie had come and destroyed his power with one swoop. He had seized her and held her off the ground with ease, she weighed almost nothing. He had been impressed by her courage and skill, but he had never dreamed that she would dare to try and fight him. But he had been wrong.
She was too fast, flipping onto his arm and latching onto the tubes in his head before he had realized that she had moved. She was too small for him to reach as she pulled with all her might, and when she flipped through the air away from him she slipped through his fingers like water as he became weaker. She kept away from him until all went black.
It was all her fault. He had underestimated her, that was the only reason she had been able to do what she did, and he would prove it. He would escape, he would have his vengeance, she would die in his hands, and he would force Batman to watch him do it, he would remind them that Bane was to be feared above all.
(Batman is not mine)