Jack Dominic never understood why he deserved to grow up in a place like Gotham City.

His parents, Martha and Roger dominic, were good people.

He was a good person. Never misbehaved as a child. Followed the rules.

So why did he deserve to live in an independent nation run by the Jokerz? Why did anyone deserve to see that wicked grin on the masks of their supervisors every day, as they slaved away doing whatever horrendous job they were assigned to?

These thoughts clouded Jack's mind as he ate lunch during his break, hearing the shouts of a man being whipped in the background.

Every day, someone got whipped. Usually for messing up their job or mouthing off.

Jack bit into his sandwich, the stale bread sticking to his teeth as the cracking of the whip filled his ears. He had put up with this for 22 years. 22 years too many.

He stood up, and threw his sandwich on the ground. He looked up to the back of the food court, a dirty, smelly place that might've actually been a real place to eat years ago.

Past the crumbling, rusting lines of tables, cowered a man in overalls, in the shadow of a Joker guard.

The plastic mask portraying Gotham's worst enemy reflected the flames that lit the room wickedly, as the man mercilessly whipped at the poor worker at his feet.

"STOP!" yelled Jack, directing everyone's attention to him.

The lunchtime crowd silenced.

The guards up above in their watchtowers, armed with rifles, suddenly looked away from their usual spots to see what was happening.

"Wassamatter?" asked the Joker with the whip, slowly turning his masked face toward Jack. "Don't like it when justice is served?"

The worker on the floor scrambled away. The whipper cracked his weapon, still looking at Jack, and nailed the man. The worker fell to the ground, unconscious.

"None of this is justice," said Jack, his knuckles white. "What you're doing here is wrong! All of it!"

The Joker laughed, and began to walk slowly towards Jack.

But Jack was no coward. He stood his ground.

"Look, kid," the Joker growled, lifting Jack up by his neck. "If you gotta problem with the way things are run around here, you can go talk to Mister J. Is that really what you want?"

Struggling to breathe, Jack croaked, "No..."

The Joker dropped him, and kicked him in the groin.

The Joker laughed as Jack doubled over.

The man said, "Next time, you won't be so lucky."

After recovering, Jack went back to work, folding the Jokerz' cleaned uniforms.

At 10 p.m., his shift ended, and he walked away from the massive prison that the Jokerz converted into their own personal appartment building.

He hopped on his bike, the only form of transportation the Jokerz allowed the citizens to use, and began to ride home.

He was nearing home when a car slowed next to him, the window rolling down.

"Hey look, Mikey! It's that guy from work!" squeaked the Joker in the passenger seat, jabbing his finger in Jack's direction.

Mikey, the driver, turned his dirty Joker mask towards Jack.

"Shoot him."

The passenger pulled out a pistol, and Jack began to pedal harder than he had ever done before.

Like this was some kind of game, the Jokerz slowly cruised behind him, firing off round after round. Jack couldn't tell if this was a prank to them or if they were just trying to make his end more terrifying.

He pedalled faster, sharply turning a corner, past the ruins of old Wayne Manor.

Laughing, the Jokerz sped up, now right beside Jack.

"HAVE A NICE TRIP, SEE YA NEXT FALL!"

Mikey shoved Jack off the road, and into a deep ditch.

Laughing hysterically, the Jokerz drove off, leaving Jack tumbling down a tunnel.

It sloped downward slowly, and he collided with a rusted metal door.

"OUCH!" he shouted, looking at the door.

It was some kind of high-security vault, by the looks of it.

He knocked on the door, and jumped back as it rumbled open.

Curious, he slowly crept forward. He looked through the doorway, and couldn't believe his eyes as a walkway slowly lit up with overhead lights.

Jack crept inside, onto a catwalk that stretched over the spikey floor of the cave.

He stepped off, onto a metal platform, facing a collection of computer monitors stacked together on a wide desk with a high backed chair.

"What is this?" Jack whispered, cautiously sitting down.

Bats squeaked in the distance.

Jack wiped the dust off of the desk, revealing a bat-shaped insignia on the metal surface.

He put his hand on the bat, and it glowed blue. The screens booted on, and an electronic voice said, "Welcome. Batcomputer is online."

Behind him, more lights flashed on, revealing more walkways.

The next led to a wicked car, and others branched off, showcasing random technology and... costumes?

Jack got up, and walked past the car. Past the Bat-themed weapons.

He stopped in front of a line of glass display cases. The first case held a bizarre Bat-Suit, made of flimsy materials. The next held a suit fit for a kid, complete with yellow cape and green mask. On the chest there was a badge with the letter R.

There were other suits, for women and men, beside these.

Jack inspected each one, and then he saw one that really grabbed his attention.

Armor. There was a suit made of metal, that resembled the first suit Jack saw.

Jack looked around him. And then it hit him.

He hadn't just stumbled upon some bizarre stash of weapons. He had stumbled on what he needed to overthrow the Jokerz.