"Deshi basra."
A whisper pierced the darkness.
"Deshi deshi basra basra."
Growing louder the more it was acknowledged. The words rang a bell for Bane who listened to the voices without a regard for its source. "Deshi Basra." The chanting became more focused; emitting from a single voice now. "Arise." Bane opened his eyes to stare blindly at a stocky shadow that eclipsed the twilight sun. "Arise." An elderly man moved aside to continue encouraging Bane to stand. "You should be the last one to fall." His brittle voice reflected years of wisdom. Bane struggled to get up as the fresh wounds in his chest oozed with blood. Still, he managed to show a remarkable feat of strength by towering over the raspy old man. "In this little game we call life, Talia has proven herself to be a wonderful pawn. And if she's a pawn, you can consider just how lowly her followers are. She is as stubborn as Melisande was. Gotham does not need a monarch. It needs to be buried in the ground with the blights of humanity six feet beneath it." The elderly man shook as he spoke; his anger sent vicious tremors through his bones. "Take her out. Take this entire city out! DESHI BASRA! DESHI BASRA!" Bane could only stare in bewilderment as the man went on a verbal rampage. He gripped Bane's vest in his tiny hands and tried to pull madly as he ranted. But not a sign of interest was shown on Bane's face with the exception of raised eyebrows. Suddenly, he faltered. The elderly man collapsed in front of Bane, holding a hand to his chest as agonizing whimpers escaped his chapped lips. Bane sank to his knees, reaching a hand out but the elderly man smacked it away. His bulging pale blue eyes gazed viciously into Bane's hues. "I do not fear death. I will be back. I will always be back." A froth of saliva oozed from his lips as he flashed a twisted grin. Shortly after, the elderly man went limp; no doubt dying of an apparent heart attack. It was clear to Bane what the man represented though the seriousness of the matter was beyond his own comprehension. "Melisande…" Bane recited to himself. It was the only word he needed to piece together the old man's puzzling rant. He kept his hand pressed firmly on the twin wounds on his chest and staggered forward towards his vehicle. "There is still time for a reckoning." He whispered. "But now is the time for rest."