It was a long night for them. Running through the halls of City Hall, trying to stay one step ahead of the Talon that was always hot on their heels, doing their bests not to get killed— it was tough work for Harvey Dent and the nameless man who was conspicuously armed.

Not that that did anything to make the pursuing Talon hesitate. This assassin was not letting a few bullets stop him from killing the two of them, most likely in the most painful way imaginable. The physical condition of this man allowed him to continue the chase as well as preventing the two of them from leaving the building.

In the end, they had been herded—that's right, herded—back towards where this all started, the same hallway where his office was located.

Something was going to give and Harvey was afraid it was going to be them.

"How many shots have you got left?" he panted out.

"Not...enough," the man beside him wheezed.

Not a good answer there. Okay, since running and trying to pull off a shot on the killer that was on their heels wasn't working, a change in strategy was needed. Think, Harvey, think. Think quickly before you ended up in an obituary. Think...there!

Grabbing, the man beside him by his coat, the District Attorney changed their direction towards the upcoming restroom, kicking the door open as he dragged his companion behind him. His feet skidded against the tiled floor as he tried to come to a stop while making sure the other man didn't trip himself over his own feet. Apparently, the janitor had mopped the floor earlier, leaving the surface slicker than normal.

"The door! He's going to come in any moment," Harvey nearly yelled at the armed man. "When he does, take him down!"

The man blinked at him for a moment before the lawyer's plan dawned on him. Turning towards the door, he raised his gun up and waited for his moment. Harvey kept his eyes on the doorway as well, wanting to make sure that the Talon did not leave his sight once he entered. He needed to be sure this bastard was taken down.

After the night he had been having, some kind of closure was needed.

He almost missed it, but he noticed that the door to the restroom cracked opened. The Talon was going to be careful entering; it wasn't a bad idea, but the only way to get to them was through that doorway. If the man beside him was a good shot, there was no way he was going to get in here without some kind of injury.

Something flew up into the air, tossed into the restroom from beyond the door. It was small, Harvey was able to see that much, and soon enough he was unable to see much after that as whatever it was began to flash. There was a loud crackling sound that went with it, though the District Attorney was more concerned with the fact that he was having a hard time seeing.

There was a gunshot, something shoved into him and he fell back, landing on his ass which sent a shock up his spine. Then something wet slapped up against him as a loud yell of pain replaced the crackling noise. As his eyes began to adjust, his gaze was drawn to blood that now was splattered on him.

From there Harvey landed on the dying man that had been his only friend through this ordeal, his stomach sliced open and...and...oh God…

He pushed himself up and away, his back coming up against the side of a bathroom stall. Harvey was breathing quickly and shallow, almost hyperventilating. He looked up from the near-deceased and found the Talon, the assassin holding that long dagger of his which was now stained with blood. He knew full well that the Talon intended to add his blood to that weapon.

"No more running, Harvey. It's over," the Talon almost taunted.

Harvey could feel the blood pulsing through his blood vessels, fear and anxiety paralyzed him in the face of his certain death, and...and...a...nd…

Harvey's body relaxed, his breathing evening out, and his eyes gave a very dead look at his soon-to-be killer. With a strained voice, he spoke, "There's just one problem…"

"Oh?" The Talon seemed to be in a talkative mood, even as he took a step closer to his target.

"You're talking to the wrong Harvey."

The voice that left Harvey Dent's body was not the smooth, jovial voice that most people knew. It was deep, almost rough, throaty even. The dead look in his eyes were replaced with fiery anger, not a sign of fear or terror within them.

For a second, the Talon hesitated at the unexpected development, giving Harvey the chance he needed to strike. With almost unnatural strength, he griped the wrist of the hand holding the dagger and twisted it to aside, the lawyer raising his other hand into a fist which decked the masked assassin.

"You want to kill me?!" the possessed Harvey Dent roared. Grabbing the stunned Talon by the front of his outfit, he picked him up off his feet. "You're going to need to do better than a cheap Halloween costume!"

He rushed forward, slamming the owl-themed assassin into the bathroom mirrors, the glass cracking behind the dark-clad body. The Talon kicked Harvey away with his powerful legs, causing him to be dropped onto the sink underneath him. From there he slipped off the porcelain fixture and almost lost his foot against the slick, tiled floor.

Harvey Dent was on him in an instant, letting out an animalistic growl as he slammed the Talon's head against the sink once, twice, then picking him off the floor to smash him down onto the sink, breaking it off. As water gushed out from the pipes, Harvey threw his assailant away from him, the Talon sliding against the floor before coming to a stop next to the dead man he had murdered only moments ago.

"You can try to kill that goody-two-shoes," Harvey growled out as he picked up the broken sink and marched his way over, "but you aren't killing me, you son of a bitch!"

The Talon was helpless, dazed from the unexpected assault. Placing his knee on the Talon's chest, Harvey Dent raised his porcelain weapon above his head, then brought down on his victim's masked head. He didn't stop with one as he raised the sink up again, then brought it down once more. Then again. And again. And again. Blow after blow. He didn't stop even as the Talon's head began to cave in with a sharp crunch.

He did stop when a spurt of blood splattered into his eyes. Only then did he drop the blood-stained sink and pull away, wiping at his eyes. As he lowered his hands, Harvey blinked almost dazily, lost to what was going on. The last thing he remembered, he had been at the mercy of a trained assassin who was...where was he? Where...oh. Oh. Oh God.

Harvey recoiled from the scene, appalled at what laid before him. He...had he done that? But...when? How? He couldn't...remember. He didn't remember. What had…

Had…

Had it happened...again?

Oh, oh Harvey… What had you done this time?

As Batman reached the top of the stairs, he soon found himself in what was best described as a command center. There were computer banks lining the wall on one side of the room. A catwalk encircled the room, hanging over head for a purpose unknown to the vigilante. Oddly enough, there were a couple of round wooden tables, a potted plant on each that looked out of place in such a chamber.

Ignoring the windows he saw, a balcony visible through the glass, Batman soon spotted Cain, the man's back to him. The black bodysuit he had been wearing was gone, replaced by a grey cloak. Cain had his arms inside of a metal footlocker, rummaging inside of it as he seemed most preoccupied with it.

Without even turning around, the white-haired man greeted, "Welcome to the Inner Sanctum, Batman. It's not much, but this is where I call home."

"You're finished, Cain," the Dark Knight growled. Eyes darting to the computers, he fully suspected this was where the frequency for the mind control chips was coming from. "I'm taking you in."

"I believe we should agree to disagree on that point," the man quipped as he straightened out his posture, slowly turning around to face the vigilante. Batman couldn't help but feel something familiar about Cain's outfit. The lighting was different, but he was sure he had seen it from somewhere. Seeing his preoccupation, Cain spoke, "I suppose you've realized this isn't the first time we've met."

Batman narrowed his eyes, returning his sights to the man's face. Staying silent, he watched as Cain then raised something with his hands, slipping it over his head and making sure it fitted comfortably. Instantly, the dark-clad man recognized who he was looking at.

Owlman.

"You proved to be more resilient than expected," Owlman continued. "An oversight that will not be repeated. When this is over, my blade will drain the blood out of your body to make sure you die."

"As I recall, you were the one that lamented at not having a proper fight," Batman retorted.

A faint smile appeared on the masked man's face. "I do believe you're right. Then let us engage in this inevitable collision."

Fine, if that was the way it was going to be, then so be it. Pulling a couple shuriken from his belt, Batman sent them flying at his foe, Owlman diving into a roll to dodge them as the projectiles pierced the wall where they hit. The moment he had his feet under him, the grey-clad villain launched himself towards Batman, a dagger in each hand.

Shifting into a defensive stance, the Dark Knight bided his time and immediately began to block the knife strikes once Owlman was within range. Catching the knifes with his triangle blade, his arms were a blur as he moved them up, down, side to side, and all over, Owlman repeated stabbing and slicing at him with his weapons, always aiming for body shots. Clanging echoed throughout the room as steel clashed against metal.

Tiring of the pattern, Owlman changed tactics, slicing one of his blades at the vigilante's head. Instead of blocking, Batman ducked the strike, darting closer to his foe and ramming an extended elbow into his abdomen. Flinching back a step, Owlman then back-swiped the same knife, bring it down at an angle.

In response, Batman blocked the attack, his forearm colliding with Owlman's. Quickly, the vigilante used the same arm to snake around his opponent's extended one, locking it in place so he could slam his fist over and over into the grey-clad man's kidney. Each blow elicited a grunt from Owlman until he had enough.

Kicking a leg out, Owlman's foot collided with Batman's calf, knocking the leg out and throwing him off balance. Releasing his hold, Batman leaned to one side and pivoted on his ground-bound foot, twisting himself so that he kept his foe right in front of him while he brought his other foot down. This allowed him to see Owlman aim a thrust right for his face, one he defended by shooting both of his arms up and grabbing the man's arm at the wrist with his hands. Throwing it to a side, Batman was quick to block the next knife strike with his triangle blade once more.

A second later and Owlman tried another cut with his free dagger, receiving the same result. However, before Batman could retaliate, the grey-clad man leaned backwards and brought his leg up, delivering a vicious snap kick to his abdomen that forced him to back off a couple steps.

"Surely you can do better than this," Owlman spoke, charging in again. Growling in response, Batman waited until the last moment before he dropped down to crouch on the ground, extending a leg out to a side, he then swung it in front of him, kicking out Owlman's feet from beneath him.

His opponent was quick to recover, however, as he went into a roll the moment his back touched the floor, ending up back on his feet. Yet, the Dark Knight wasn't finished as he dashed in, ramming his shoulder into his foe's chest as he lashed out with his arms. With one arm pressing just above the elbow and the other wrapping atop Owlman's forearm, Batman hyperextended the arm, no doubt sending a burning pain through the man. A spasm in his hand caused him to drop the knife in his hand, the weapon clanging upon landing on the floor.

Releasing his hold, Batman twisted around until his back was pressed against Owlman's chest, his foot kicking the dagger away as he did so. With his left arm, he shot it up, bending it so that his elbow collided with his opponent's raised arm, preventing it from attacking. With his right, Batman moved it up before he rammed it right into Owlman's abdomen, causing the man to gasp as the air in his lungs was forced out him, his body bending forward.

Snapping his hand up, the backside of his hand smashed into Owlman's unguarded face, his opponent stumbling back a step form the unexpected blow. Pivoting on his foot, Batman spun around and leapt into the air, swinging a kick that knocked his foe's last knife out of his hand and sent the blade flying through the air until it embedded itself in a wall. Landing, Batman continued to spin as he used the same leg to deliver a kick right into Owlman's side.

Though he landed the hit, the next thing he knew his foe had wrapped his arms around the Dark Knight's leg, pinning the appendage to his side. "Better," Owlman complimented him, "but it was only a waste of time."

With the speed of a serpent, Owlman raised an arm up and swung it down, hammering the bottom of his fist right on Batman's thigh. A searing sensation raged through his leg, causing Batman to hiss as he realized his opponent had hit his sciatic nerve.

Releasing the leg, Owlman closed the distance between, slamming his other fist into the vigilante's solar plexus, knocking him back a step. With his other hand, Owlman thrust it at his throat, the thumb, index, and middle fingers forming a talon-like strike as the ring and pinkie fingers curled into the palm. An image flashed before Batman's eyes as he saw Cain's protege performing the same move—if not the same strike combination—not too long ago.

Shooting an arm up, he blocked the attack, only to receive a fist to his stomach as a reward. Air knocked out of his lungs, he was helpless as Owlman moved in, raining blow after blow against his abdomen before finishing the barrage off with a palm strike to his chin. The force of the hit lifted the Dark Knight off his feet and sent him crashing to the floor.

Lying on the ground, Batman sucked in as much air as he could. That was the second time he'd been hit like that within the hour and it was obvious which opponent's hit was more powerful. The student was still learning from the master, it would seem. However, if he recalled his previous fight, that meant…

That was when Owlman appeared over him. Already the vigilante could sense his opponent was about to raised a leg up to stomp on him, much like his protege had done. Flinging his legs up, Batman rolled from his back and over his shoulders until he was crouched on his feet, looking up—

—in time for the bottom of Owlman's foot to slam right into his face.

Letting out a cry, Batman dropped back onto his back, pain throbbing throughout his cheeks and lips. His chest was on fire as well, alerting him to his old knife wound that had yet to completely heal. That didn't stop him from hearing the disappointed sigh from his foe, though.

"I had expected better," Owlman lamented. "After our first meeting in the sewers, you showed such promise. It seems your reputation far exceeds your reality."

"Sorry to disappoint," Batman grunted back as he maneuvered himself back onto his feet, remaining crouched. Eyeing his opponent, he noticed the grey-clad man had a hand at his belt, obviously removing…

Eyes widening, Batman dove to a side the moment Owlman swung his arm out. Three hilt-less knives flew right by where the vigilante had been kneeling, stabbing into the floor one after the other. Going into a roll, the Dark Knight was back on his feet in time to see his foe charging, drawing a leg back to kick him again.

Movement occurred in the corner of his eye. Jerking his head, Batman ended up following a flying dagger that forced Owlman to skid to a stop one one leg as he leaned back as far as he could. Because of this, the weapon raced between the two men, stopping them from continuing their fight. Following the knife, Batman saw it embed itself in the floor, the hilt wobbling. Surprised, both men turned their heads in look in the same direction.

Crouched on the railing of the catwalk was Cain's protege, her cold eyes locked onto Owlman.

The grey-clad man merely frowned at her presence. "What are you doing here?" he asked unconcerned, his tone covering up any astonishment.

Seeing his foe distracted, Batman took advantage of this and charged, swinging a vicious uppercut that landed against Owlman's cheek. Head jerking away, Owlman stumbled as Batman fired off a barrage of punches, beating the man over and over.

That wasn't to last, unfortunately, as Owlman suddenly blocked a punch, and then another. In an instant he regained the upper hand, he caught one of the vigilante's fists with his hand. "Better," he commended before he began to unleash his counteroffensive.

One, it seemed, he never got the chance to do. Sometime during Batman's onslaught, the girl had jumped down from her perch and had been watching for an opening. It seemed that opening had appeared as she came rushing in, throwing a punch to Owlman's solar plexus. Catching her movement at the last second, Owlman twisted his body and caught the fist as well.

Seeing his attention diverted again, Batman struck, kicking the back of his opponent's knee, causing him to cry out as his leg buckled and he dropped to the floor on one knee. This also had the added benefit of Owlman releasing his hold on the dark-clad man's hand.

That was when the girl attacked again, going for the larynx as she and Owlman had shown to be their go-to move. For a moment, Batman froze, eyes widening as he realized he was about to see this girl kill a man.

However, it seemed Owlman had other thoughts. Unexpectedly, he flung his head forward the moment he saw the strike coming. As his chin ducked down to guard his throat, the crown of his head bore the brunt of the girl's strike, her fingers bouncing off the mask as her face twisted with pain.

Owlman surged upward then, grabbing his protege by her wrist with one hand and her bodysuit with the other. Twisting his body, he hauled the girl up and sent her flying towards Batman, who was forced to catch her. That left him wide open for the grey-clad man to leap into the air and slam the bottom of his foot against his face, sending the two crashing to the floor.

As Batman found himself grunting from the landing, the girl in his arms shot up onto her feet and lashed out at Owlman. Punch after punch, kick after kick, she threw everything she had, her opponent merely defending himself as he blocked and dodged the blows. The grey-clad man gave up ground as he backed away, the girl continuing to press her assault, something that caught Batman's attention. The further away he moved, the more distance Owlman put between himself and one of his opponents—in this case, Batman. That was one way to handle a two-on-one fight.

Finally, Owlman countered his assailant. Blocking a blow aimed for his stomach, he lashed out with a fist, landing it against the girl's face and knocking her back a couple steps. Pressing his advantage, Owlman lunged at her, bending his extended arm and ramming his elbow against the side of her head. Grabbing the back of her head with his hand then, he held her still as he kicked a leg up, his knee embedding itself into her stomach. A gasp left the girl's lips before she was allowed to drop to the ground.

"Perhaps I underestimated the Batman," Owlman spoke out loud to himself. "You're moving much slower than usual. You're normally a more difficult match than this." Reaching beneath his cape, the sound of metal scraping against leather was made and he pulled out what was either a long dagger, or a short sword.

Batman's knife wound began to ache at the mere sight of the blade. The memory of it sliding through his body overwhelmed his senses, bile threatening to work its way up his throat. It didn't take much to know just where the grey-clad man intended to put the edge of that weapon.

Flipping the blade around in his hand, Owlman held it high as he knelt down next to the girl, the tip pointed down towards his victim. Meanwhile, Batman was back on his feet, a bat-shaped shuriken in his hand. Simultaneously he sent the projectile flying as he raced towards the man.

Those movements diverted Owlman's attention. Jerking his head up, he then swung his blade down, not at the girl but the shuriken, parrying it away. A second later it was Batman's turn to slam his foot in his foe's face, Owlman's head snapping backwards as his grip on the knife weakened and slipped. Batman was faintly aware of the dagger clattering on the floor next to the girl, who merely looked up towards it as the vigilante flew over her.

Letting out a war cry, Baman lowered his shoulder and rammed into his opponent, arms wrapping around his body as he tackled the man to the floor. The moment he hit the ground, Owlman shoved the vigilante off of him, rolling on top of the dark-clad man in turn. Not one to give that positioning to a foe, Batman did the same, the two men ending up rolling on top of each other over and over as they fought for an advantage. It wasn't until Batman finally broke the cycle and pushed the grey-clad man off of him and opting to scramble back onto his feet that they stopped.

By the time the vigilante was up, so was Owlman. Like two magnets they engaged each other, lashing their arms out. Each fighter sent a fist flying at the other's face, only for the other to catch the blow. Holding the balled up hands tightly, neither was willing to relinquish their hold leaving them to push their legs against the floor hard as they tried to overpower the other. Their teeth were fared, making them look like ferocious animals. Neither one was willing to give up overpowering the other, defiant to give in to the growing strain in their arms and legs. If they had forever, they would have stayed that way.

As it turned out, Owlman was the one to give in to their stalemate, though not by anything that Batman did. It was as sudden as it was shocking as a blade exploded out of Owlman's chest, splattering blood over Batman's dark suit. A stunned look appeared over the grey-clad man's face before he dropped to a knee, a trickle of blood dripping down his chin from his mouth.

And right behind the man stood the girl, her hand on the handle of Owlman's large dagger. Batman felt a sense of deja vu, only it was him being stabbed in the back by the man currently kneeling on the floor. Releasing her grip on the weapon, the girl moved around her victim, coming to stand a short distance away facing Owlman's side.

Stepping back himself, Batman looked down at his bleeding opponent, who slowly raised a hand and grabbed his mask. Yanking it off, Cain's face emerged, his daze still evident. Then he looked towards the girl, pride radiating from him. "That was perfect. Absolutely...perfect..."

The girl stared unmoved by her master's words.

Cain's breaths were beginning to pick up, becoming louder as he panted. Damn it, no, there was no way Batman would let him die, not when there was a crisis still at hand. Closing the distance between them, the vigilante placed a hand on the white-haired man's shoulder.

As he began to kneel, the dark-clad man spoke, "Don't speak and waste your strength. We can fix this."

Cain looked amused by this. "Compassion towards an enemy—your refusal to kill astounds me." A ragged cough escaped his lips, droplets of blood flying out. "Unfortunately for you, we are still enemies. For that, I cannot be taken alive. I must complete one final duty to the Court of Owls."

If Cain thought he was going to get away with ritual suicide, he had another thing coming. That was the only thing Batman could think of that would explain the white-haired man's sudden change in attitude. Already his eyes were looking to Cain's hands for any movement.

As it turned out, he was looking in the wrong place. "Computer, activate self-destruct sequence. Password," at this his eyes flickered to the girl, "Cassandra."

Immediately, screens above the computer database flashed red before the number 5 appeared on them. The moment they dropped to 4, Batman knew he was too late.

Shooting up to his feet, the vigilante rushed to the girl and picked her up. 3. He could see the windows and the balcony were closed by and made a beeline right for them. 2.

Despite this, the girl didn't react in his arms. She didn't brace herself against him, nor did she make things easier for him as she seemed to hang limply in his arms. 1. If she had done anything, they would have just made it to the windows.

Unfortunately, that still wouldn't have been enough.

Explosions erupted behind them, the force of the blast ramming into Batman's back, lifting him right off the floor. A scream rang out from the dark-clad man a moment before the flames washed over him and the girl.

To John: Sorry you feel that way, but we'll have to disagree. Cassandra can and has done damage to Batman, even to the point of having her blows having a delayed effect on him. You also have to consider in this story, Batman isn't at 100%. He's still recovering from a knife wound in the chest and a collapsed lung, he's just spent a good portion of the night running through Gotham, not to mention having just removed himself from a room full of trained assassins. He's tired at this point. Plus, Cassandra's going for structurally weak points that no amount of body armor is going to protect. Take her three-hit combo to start the fight, for instance. She hits Batman first right next to his chest wound, then the throat with its windpipe and blood vessels, and lastly the chin, which is exposed in Batman's batsuit. That's three weak points right there to start.