DECEMBER 24th
The time is 10:47 PM.
Snow descends from the cool-grey skies in waves, covering Gotham City in an even sheet of white frost. All is quiet tonight, with the sole melodies of the night originating from the citizens of the city. Children wander—singing, playing, and laughing—amidst the freedom of holiday recess, individuals scurry about the streets attempting to perfect various preparations for the holidays, and the elderly reside cozily, fortified by the happiness and comfort provided by family, friends, and neighbors alike. A cheerful time, spent with cheerful people, within a cheerful city. Oh, if only that last bit were true! For this was Gotham: a city that—beneath a pleasantly cheerful exterior—is plagued by the realization of crime, poverty, and dissolution. Could this season—a season of greetings, cheerfulness, and love—rouse a change in the heart of the city, however? Possibly.
The citizens of Gotham have learned that anything is possible and that they—at every viable moment—should expect the unexpected; most particularly, a certain billionaire that resides on the outskirts of the city...
The time is 10:47 PM.
Bruce sits at his computer screen, watching, listening, and hearing. All is quiet across the city. He is alone, down in this complex domain—one of which is built solely upon effort, hardship, and sweat. He gazes upon the trophies—a hanging deck of cards, enormous penny, towering animatronic Tyrannosaurus Rex, and much more—and recalls the memories that each one entails. So many failures in this war... and yet numerous triumphs. He crosses his legs, engulfed in thought, when he comes upon the current time.
"Ten forty-seven," he sighs. One of the worst moments of his life.
After all these years... the sting is still there; the pain is still present. However, that is not to say that the vacant hole left by the absence of his parents has not been mended, in a way. In the years following the Waynes' demise, many individuals have found themselves an essential part of their son's life (both of them, to be more specific). Alfred, Leslie, Selina, Dick, Barbara, Tim, Cassandra (as well as Jason, of course—if only he weren't so damned stubborn presently...)—he loves them all; they are his only family. And yet, in spite of this fact, Bruce sits alone in the Cave—alone in the dark. A lonely soul.
No one is visiting this Christmas. Each and every individual is doing one thing or another; each and every member of the family is occupied. It is solely Bruce and Alfred—just like old times. The former remembers a time in which everyone made preparations, a time in which seeing one another on the holidays was a necessity. Afterall, in this line of work, every moment spent together is most precious. However, as the world around them progressively changed and evolved—at times for the better, other times for worse—the traditions of times past seemed to crawl to an end.
Normally, Bruce paid no mind to this; the holidays would whisk by with the company of his fateful butler and companion. Strangely, however, the older man wished to be entirely solitary in his preparations of this year's holiday meal. It seems that everyone requires some alone time at one point or another, even Alfred.
Thus, Bruce closes his eyes and slumps steadily into the cushion of his swivel chair, rocking back and forth with the movements of his dangling feet. At this point, he is certain that there will be no need for the Batman tonight.
Suddenly, as if fate had scoffed at the man's abrupt presumption, a subtle beeping of the computer screen sounds.
Bruce carefully opens his eyelids, peering wearily at the screen before him. He recognizes the sound immediately.
"Gordon," he exhales, massaging both temples with one exhausted hand. He rises from his chair, gathering the strength to push himself forward, the energy to "get dressed". First comes the armored bodysuit, next are the boots, followed by the utility belt, subsequently the gloves, thereafter the cape and cowl, and finally—to enhance the appearance—a frightening scowl. "It's time to go to work."
With speed matched by no other human alive, the Batman rushes toward the Batmobile and somersaults inside. With both hands braced at the wheel, he sets the necessary augmentations—thrusters, on; batteries, power; turbines, speed—and speeds off in a burst of sparkling, crackling fire. The entire city was in danger and that meant that there was no time to waste...