As the rain poured from the blackened clouds that forever polluted the city of Gotham, he felt nothing. Nothing for the city he once called home. Nothing for the city that shined lights to forced the sins to lurk in the shadows … still, but never forgotten. Nothing for the city that housed the mighty and god-like Batman and the crown-crazed Joker.

His fingers itched to pull the trigger on his many assortments of guns at even the thought of both names. Each plagued his memories, his nightmares with vigorous burdens. He hated them both. Despised them both with every fiber of his existence.

But he resisted the urge, blowing out an angry puff of air, watching as his breath manifest due to the cold air of the city. It was not time to let his temper take hold. He sighed, running a hair through his raven hair.

Gods and kings were ruling this city with stubborn valor. Villains ran around in reckless chaos, whether it be some psychotic guy in a ridiculous costume or the ones that ruined the very heart of Gotham, including her children.

He found the latter to be the most dangerous. They plagued this city as they left a path of corpses and victims, doing whatever they wanted, damning anyone who got in their way. They needed to pay for their sins. And the Batman wasn't the answer. He may have been at first, but he only made it much worse with time.

That was the issue with heroes. It brought forth the challenge of opposition and many had risen up to take the Batman on. It was a motion that would soon make him a god. A deity that was untouchable, invincible, and unbeatable.

But a god wasn't the answer that the victims of these psychopaths needed, nor wanted. A god couldn't stop these mongrels from hurting the innocent. All he did was send these monsters to jail as their victims succumbed to their newfound demons.

They didn't need a god. They needed a sinner, one who had walked the same path they had. One that had been born at the heart of this city. One who was willing to commit more sins. One who wasn't afraid of death. One who was willing to do what had to be done.

He was dangerous as Talia once admitted with a hidden fear of how powerful he was. She had tried to hide it as her father had trained her to do so but he saw. He saw want any saint couldn't. Even she feared him. The thought made him smirk with a chilling malice.

She was one of the reasons he was here, to pick off where his mentor had left off, but in his own, far more brutal way. He was no angel, he could admit to that with ease. But he was what Gotham needed. He was the protector of the city that was alive.

No, he wasn't a savior. He wasn't even an angel. He was just a sinner. A sinner who was willing to do what all that he could for the city he once loved.

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