The plant creature exploded into a fountain of green blood, chunks of its body flying in all directions. Manhunter stared down at its charred remains, pointing the end of her staff at it.

Immediately, she ducked, spinning to a side. The razor sharp claws of another plant creature swiped right where she had been standing, the monster roaring with rage. Whirling her staff at her side, she arched it up over her head and then swung it across her body, knocking the legs out from underneath it. It fell onto its back hard, causing it to growl and glare at her.

Hoisting her staff up, holding it vertical to the ground, Manhunter took a step to stand right next to the green creature and shoved the end of her staff into its mouth, breaking teeth as she did so. She quickly hit the button that fired an energy blast, one that was small and fast, but with enough power to blow the monster's head apart.

The sound of gunfire rang out and the red-and-white-dressed vigilante looked up to see Two-Face unloading his machine gun into another plant monster, his bullets shredding it as the pieces of lead erupted out of the creature's back, spraying green blood everywhere. This didn't stop it though as it continued to lumber towards him.

That's when Huntress came in low, sliding across the ground and swinging her own, thinner staff. Just like Manhunter had done previously, she knocked the legs out from beneath the monster, sending it howling to the ground. Two-Face was immediately on top of the monster, a revolver in hand as he took aim at its head and fired two shots, ones that caused green blood to splatter on the ground.

Yeah, war made for strange bedfellows. If they were going to make it out of this battle alive, you didn't turn a helping hand away.

Though she had confirmed at least two of her allies—the use of allies getting really stretched in one of their cases—that left one unaccounted for. Looking around, Manhunter caught sight of Black Canary, her back to one monster, but pinning its arm on top of her shoulder. She used that shoulder to leverage the creature's arm, hauling it off the ground and allowing her to flip it over her and onto the ground.

Immediately, she went into a run, arms pumping at her sides, her staff firmly secured in one hand. Leaping into the air, she landed on top of the plant monster's stomach, knocking the wind out of it. As it gasped, Manhunter whirled her staff around until she could take aim with the cannoned end. Another quick shot blasted the monster's head off.

"Down!" Canary shouted, and Manhunter immediately took a knee right on top of the green corpse. Pursing her lips, the blonde vigilante let out a focused Canary Cry, one designed to act as a battering force rather than the ear-piercing, head-shattering scream she was known for. Though her ears still ringed, she felt wind pull at her body as the focused Cry flew over her head.

As it turned out, yet another plant creature had been standing here, arm raised to strike her. The blunted Canary Cry rammed right into it, shoving it backwards a couple steps as it yelped. An instant later and the sharp end of an arrow jutted out of its face, right where its nose would have been. For a moment the plant monster stood there like a statue before it dropped to its knees and collapsed into a heap. This allowed Huntress to become visible, holding her crossbow up. "You two having fun?" she called out.

"Oh yeah, loads," Manhunter shot back. "When do these things end?"

"My guess? When Ivy runs out of raw materials." Huntress made a show of looking around her, indicating the plant life all around them. "Unfortunately, I think it's going to be awhile."

"Perhaps not," Black Canary remarked as she turned away from her friends. "One, two...and three," she counted.

Looking towards the blonde woman, Manhunter saw what she meant. There were three plant creatures standing in the ruins of their fallen brethren, each one snarling. "Looks like one for each of us," Canary continued, raising her hands up so that she could pop her knuckles.

"I'll take those odds," Huntress added as she came to stand with them, reloading a bolt into her crossbow. "Let's finish this."

Immediately, Black Canary and Huntress charged forward, Manhunter holding back. She watched as her friends took on their own monster.

One creature took a swipe of Huntress, the dark-haired woman ducking it as she went into a feet-first slide. She held her bo staff horizontally above her head, the vigilante sliding between the monster's legs. Her staff collided with the plant creature's shins just above the ankles, yanking its legs out from underneath it and sending it face first into the ground.

Scrambling onto her feet, Huntress planted one end of her staff onto the ground and used it to vault herself up onto the creature's back. With her crossbow in hand, the moment she landed on the plant monster, she fired a bolt into the back of the monster's head, pinning it to the ground. She then leaped backwards as the large creature began to flail its clawed arms about, each swing growing weaker until it went still.

Meanwhile, Black Canary was in a full out sprint, leaping into the air as she went into a flying kick. Unfortunately, the plant monster was swinging its claws at her as she closed in at it.

There was no need for concern though. As she soared, the blonde vigilante had moved her arms up towards her face. What came next happened in the span of a heartbeat. Canary's foot slammed right into the creature's face just as its swinging arm reached her. However, with her arms, Canary blocked the blow, her forearms colliding with the...uhhh...wrist area of the arm, ensuring the strike was unsuccessful.

Due to the flying kick, the plant monster stumbled backwards and then fell to the ground, Black Canary landed on top of it. Rearing herself back up, the blonde woman kept her arms at her sides as she sucked in a whole bunch of air. That was the only warning she gave before she flung herself forward and unleashed her Canary Cry at point blank range.

Manhunter had just barely covered her ears, the same with Huntress, as the scream blasted the monster's face. It's arms and legs went up and seized, trembling as if in a seizure. The moment Canary stopped, the plant creature's face caved in on itself, the blonde vigilante standing up to stare down at it.

That just left one left. Looking left and right, the last monster couldn't decide who to attack first: Huntress or Black Canary.

The right answer was neither. Standing up, Manhunter took aim with her bo staff, light shining from the cannon at its end. "Sayonara," she called out, which drew the creature's attention to her.

She then fired the blast and the monster took the beam right through its stomach and chest. A searing hole was left in its body, leaving it to blink its eyes bewilderingly before it collapsed backwards to the ground.

"Nice work, ladies," Huntress congratulated as all three of them turned away from their respective corpses. The purple-clad vigilante gave a cursory look around. "I don't see any more of them."

"Good, cause that was getting old," Manhunter said. "So now where?"

"Nowhere," Black Canary immediately replied as she took a few steps away from them. "Where's Two-Face?"

Instantly, Manhunter looked around and saw they were missing one two-faced man. There wasn't even a sign of his gun, or his coin, or even just a bloody, scarred body. "Goddamn it," she growled. "That weasel took off while we were distracted."

"Should have seen that one coming," Huntress added irritably. "My money was on him putting a bullet in our backs during the fighting. Next was him disappearing in the middle of the fight."

"Which means we'll have to track him down." Black Canary began searching the ground, most likely searching for foot prints. "He couldn't have gotten too far. If we hurry, we can catch up to him."

"And what about meeting back up with Katana and Batman?" Manhunter questioned. "While I like where your head is at, I thought our first objective was to get back with them."

"It is, but if we can eliminate one of Arkham's worst, we should take the chance. If he had disappeared at the beginning of the fight, I wouldn't worry about it, but he was around right until the last few monsters, so he should still be close by."

"Then let's live up to our name as Birds of Prey," Huntress chimed in. "Let's go hunting."


Selina had lost sight of that bat monster, but she knew which direction it had gone in. Knowing it was risky, she continued in that direction. Along the way, she felt on edge, eyeing every shadow.

Something about the park didn't feel right. There was something different about it. Yeah, yeah, there were the jokes about not going into the park at night because you might not walk out of it alive. This didn't feel like a joke.

She had a sixth sense for eyes. Sometimes when she was in the zone, she could tune out the feeling of stares. There were eyes here, even if she could see them, and they were watching. So far, the owners of these eyes were doing nothing to go after her, and Selina preferred to keep it that way.

The feeling of watchful eyes remained, but her curiosity took over when she thought she heard a noise. It wasn't some sudden and quick snapping of twigs, or crunching of leaves. It was continuous, not stopping. It was something different in what felt more like a jungle than a city park and so the cat burglar-turned-crime lord made her approach towards the sound.

The closer she got, the most confused she became. As the sound became louder, she started to figure out that what she was hearing was...humming. Someone was humming in a place like this.

Her hand kept close to her whip, and she continued forward.

The first unnatural sight in this so-called park came into view. It was a foldout table, something you could carry in. It looked cheap, something from a big box store, and that's why it stood out. It wasn't in a clearing because the trees were way too close to even consider this immediate area one. And there were more than one of these tables.

What seemed like random junk was piled on them. From a glance, it looked like there were a bunch of devices, electronics, but something wasn't...kosher with them. The guts were spilling out, wires and circuit boards and what not. Someone was taking them apart here. Here. Why? And whoever they were, they were still humming.

Selina's gut was telling her that she might want to distance herself from here, go somewhere else. Her brain told her that this was the kind of thing she was looking for. Something, anything, that might give a clue as to what the crazies were up to. If you knew what the plan was, you could take the pains to avoid it and keep out of the way.

As much as she didn't want to, the thief-turned-crime boss needed to take a closer look.

It wasn't easy being silent. Grass and twigs and all the foliage tended to make noise if you stepped on it. But she was a girl up for a challenge, and she made it work. The closer she got to what was a grouping of tables gave away how big this setup was, as well as increased the volume of the humming.

Then she caught sight of blue.

Blue wasn't that natural of a color and especially in that shade. She saw a large overcoat then, one that almost went down to the short man's ankles. White-gloved hands were fiddling with something thin, making something. What was the thing? And what was with that top hat? She didn't even know they still made those.

A rumble growled over the humming. Freezing up, Selina searched with her eyes until she found—

"We have a guest it seems. A wandering Alice searching for a cup of tea? Or a trespasser wanting to ruin the party? Whichever do you happen to be?"

—standing close to a tree was a massive, furry monster that had a head that looked like a bat. Not a Batman, but a bat. That was the thing that had dropped that crocodile man earlier. What was it doing here, standing there and...that small man was talking to her.

Setting down what he was fiddling with, the short man turned on his heel, his eyes scanning the immediate area. "I know you're there. Do be a good fellow and announce your intentions. The world you find yourself in is far from fanciful and more on the dangerous side. Come, come, don't skulk in the shadows like a certain winged rodent that prowls the night."

As inviting as he was, Selina wasn't about to accept the invitation. Despite the tone of voice that sounded gentle and kind, there was a gimmick here. He wouldn't be here if he wasn't part of the madness happening. So what was his brand and how bad was it?

"It is very rude to decline an invitation in such a manner," the short man with the top hat commented. A white-gloved hand raised up and gestured. "I am normally a very patient man, but even someone such as I has their pet peeves, and to have my invitations answered with silence happens to be one of them."

Selina had been keeping out of sight behind a large, thick tree trunk. She was slim enough that it was easy to keep out of sight. The catch-22 here was that it also blocked off sight of anything behind her and having to peek around the trunk could risk exposing her.

That turned into a moot point when a massive, clawed hand slammed against the trunk, claws digging into the bark. An ugly, bat-shaped face snarled right at her, and her instinctive jerk back had her jumping out of her hiding spot and into the open. The massive bat creature stalked after her, cutting the burglar off from the way she had come, and put the top hat wearing man behind her.

"My, my, Gotham has all sorts. What moniker do you happen to possess...?" The man trailed off and she knew that feeling of eyes once more. The observing, the leering, it was aggravating. "...my lady," the man concluded.

"I think the superhero and villain cliché is dumb," she retorted, not taking her eyes off the Man-Bat that was herding her closer to the man.

"To each their own," the man replied. "But it is in our nature to give something a name. Even if it makes no sense. A fearsome beast is the Jabberwocky. An oafish lout is either a dee or a dum, but always a tweedle. And a Hatter, such as myself, has to be mad, because everyone here is mad. You'd have to be."

She had heard something about this. Thought it was ridiculous, but hey, she figured she knew who this was. She might not be an expert on Alice in Wonderland, but people in the city knew of the Mad Hatter. Good thing she was people then.

This was going to be tricky. In front of her was a dangerous, savage Man-Bat and behind was a lunatic in a hat. Both were dangerous and neither could be kept out of sight. Selina turned her body, keeping a side to both of these guys, though calling them guys was pushing it. Unfortunately, she didn't have eyes on the back of her head, so had to settle for turning her head back and forth, and do so quickly enough to try and keep both in sight.

"I'm not here to get in your way," she stated. "I just want to know what's going on. I find that when something big goes down, it's best to keep out of the way. I don't mean you harm."

"You sound very pragmatic," Mad Hatter remarked. "Still, you found yourself in my neck of the woods. Misfortune, or destiny, who knows? However, I hope you do not hold it against me when I retort that while I believe you, I can't trust you not to leave well enough alone."

"And what have I done to get that?" she snapped back.

"You wear a mask. Like the Batman. And his Bat family. And too much of my work has been destroyed by that colony of winged rats. It is caution that I act, and nothing personal."

Figures that she would be here and find some trouble.

"Now, fortunately for you, there is a simple solution," The Hatter held up a headband. "Place this on your lovely crown and in return you shall have my absolute trust. We will not be enemies, but friends. Perhaps, dare I say, aficionados of teas. Earl Grey has been my preference for years, but I wonder if you have a preference? Let us find out."

A wry smile formed on her lips. "You have another color? It clashes with my outfit."

The haberdasher smiled. That smile was way too large and way too toothy for that face. "I'm sure I could find something."

That was her cue. With a flick of her fingers, she unlatched her whip from her belt, and let it uncoil and fall to the ground.

Fight it was.


Ivy was trying to lead them somewhere; that much was obvious. Where that place was was still unknown.

Batman preferred to not do what the eco-terrorist wanted, but there was little choice in the matter. The former botanist had dropped all pretenses of trying to block their path and began creating plants that could fight back. Giant thorns had been fired at the two vigilantes and one plant that projectile vomited acid. The moment they started on their current path, the attacks stopped. They had gone unmolested ever since.

It was obvious Ivy was walking them into a trap; that's what Robinson Park had become. What she had planned was still a mystery.

Much like his travel companion.

Not once had Katana sheathed her sword since they started on their current path. He didn't blame her either. There was no telling if another attack was coming and it was always best to stay on guard.

Still, he couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of the sword. They hadn't made swords like that in a long time, though he was having a little difficulty pinning down the swordsmith. Ra's al Ghul had an extensive collection of swords and, during his time with the Demon's Fang, the dark-clad man had developed an appreciation for the blade as well.

"That's an interesting sword," he remarked, breaking the silence they had been walking in for some time now.

Katana didn't spare the blade a glance. "It's entirely unique," she responded succinctly. "There isn't another like it."

"How did you come to obtain it? Family heirloom?"

"Unfortunately, no."

They fell silent, walking up a soft incline up a hill. It was towards the top that Katana continued. "My...brother-in-law had managed to obtain the sword. He was a man that was used to getting what he wanted and at one point he wanted me. So one night he challenged my husband with this sword to win me—as a prize."

Considering the culture, he could understand the thinking. There must have been some underlying currents of resentment between the brothers for them to fight a duel in such a matter though.

"Unfortunately, my husband was slain by the sword and his soul trapped within the steel. I was late in returning and found his brother gloating over him." There was no break in her voice, her tone even and calm. It was like she was reciting a book rather than something tragic and personal.

"Clearly you got the sword away from him," Batman commented.

"I did, yes. The sword was imbued with special properties during its forging. It has earned the same Soultaker. Quite a few souls reside within the blade, trapped for eternity."

"I imagine you've sought out ways to free them."

"I have, but as of yet, I have failed. For now it is enough that I ensure no other souls are trapped within its steel."

The woods began to thin and the two emerged into a clearing, one with a large pond towards one end. The dirt path they were on led right up to the water and followed along the bank before angling off towards another part of the forest.

"For such a unique sword, how did your brother-in-law get his hands on it?" Batman questioned then.

"He is Yakuza, so he has the means to find whatever he wants," she explained. "Also protected. It would take an army to get to him. Though I believe myself to be formidable, going up against the Yakuza is a deathwish."

She wasn't wrong. The Yakuza were the Japanese equivalent to the Italian Mob. They were just as in deep in illegal activities and were even more deadly. Anyone that stood before them had met with death. They were not a group to tread lightly with.

It also explained why another man was willing to kill his own brother as well, using an enchanted sword on top of that. It also indicated just what happened to the Asian woman's children as well. If this man wanted her, he would sever every tie she had to her previous life, including children. Considering Katana hadn't said her children's souls were trapped in the sword as well, they must have died by other means.

"If it helps, I can lend you my assistance," he offered her.

There was a fleeting smile on her face at his words. "It is appreciated, but do not concern yourself with this. This is my problem to solve."

"Regardless, the offer stands. You've helped Gotham for so long, it is only right that I repay your duty and diligence."

They neared the pond, beginning to pass along the bank. "I will remember that," she decided to respond. It was clear she had no inclination to take him up, but it was customary of her culture to not embarrass the offering party with continued refusal. He wasn't expecting to hear a phone call from her any time soon.

"If you like, I can have Zatanna examine your sword. Perhaps she can figure out what the enchantment is on the sword and reverse it to free your husband," he then offered. "If she isn't able to, I'm certain she has a contact that may be able to help."

He saw Katana perk up at that thought. "Are you certain?" she asked quickly. "I would not like to impose."

"We'll work it around Zatanna's schedule. I think she's touring again, but I don't think she'll have an issue with it. It would help if you were able to get as much information on the sword as you can so that she can do a little research first."

A small, genuine smile appeared on her face. "I would be indebted to you if you were to—"

Promptly, the Asian woman cut herself off. The both of them went still as they heard the sound of churning water. Their heads snapped to the pond next to them.

They were just in time too. There was something moving beneath the surface, a tell-tell ripple in the shape of a V heading for the shore.

That's when it emerged. It started with a scaly head that breached the surface of the pond. Slowly it rose until a reptilian face appeared, sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight. Immediately Batman recognized it for Killer Croc, the reptile man rising out of the pond as water ran down his shoulders and chest.

"Look-y here," Croc growled as he reached waist-deep water. "I got tossed into a goddamn pond by a giant, flying bat and what do I find here? A Bat-Man." His hips emerged and he was soon in thigh-high water. Trails of water were trickling down his abdomen and disappearing into the hem of his pants.

Immediately, Batman had a shuriken in hand, Katana assuming a stance with her sword. By then, Croc was passing knee-high water, and then ankle-deep water. Water splashed with every step he took. "I gotta admit, that sort of thing pisses me off," he continued, flexing his hands and fingers, drawing attention to his claws.

"What's say I take my anger out on you!"

And then Croc lunged at them, his mouth gaping wide open with rows upon rows of sharp teeth.


The cane was serving as a line. Two pairs of hands gripped it, grappling as two costumed men fought over it.

It couldn't be said that the two of them were physically strong. They were men of the mind, more cerebral than dominant. A steady workout routine was only what Arkham allowed them, and regular exercise was not common.

Scarecrow believed he might need to build up some fitness after this.

He had never been the athletic type. Lanky, reedy, and sometimes appeared as if his body didn't know how to grow proportionally, he had always been the butt of "jokes" and the like. Jocks, mean girls, and anybody who didn't want to be on the lowest rung of the social order were his bullies. The jeering, sneering, and taunting had made school a nightmare.

The day he saw one with a flash of fear in their eyes had changed everything. Well, except prompting a healthier lifestyle.

It seemed the Riddler was in a similar situation. The man in green struggled to yank away his cane, a weapon that Scarecrow could not allow to escape his own grip. Their fight, if you could call it that, had been stretching out for some time.

Riddler had been prepared for the fear toxin. Even now, he could see the air filter the man wore, so springing out another cloud of it was useless until it could be removed. Needles had been the second attempt, but Riddler had chosen to go long distance. All he had to do was swing that cane, one that gave the man an advantage. Scarecrow's arm was not long enough to overcome it.

Let's not get into the tricks built into it.

"This is not my choice of battle," Riddler grunted out through clenched teeth.

"I know. You like battles of wits," Scarecrow hissed out.

"Then why lower yourself to this?" was the demanding response.

"And give you an advantage?" was the huffed reply.

"This coming from the man known for stealing wits?"

Recognition for his craft. Had circumstances been different, he would have accepted it as a compliment. Jerking his left arm up, the former professor tried to tear the cane out of Riddler's grip. To his credit, Riddler's grip was proving to be a worthy adversary on its own.

"You're supposed to be smart," he spat out. "Don't you know taking Strange's side in anything is a losing proposition?"

"You can't tell me you aren't the least bit curious." Riddler tried to push back against him. "Who is the Batman? To answer that riddle, that is a challenge worthy of me."

Scarecrow had wondered himself. Who was Batman? More importantly, what was Batman most afraid of? Perhaps in answering one you could answer the other? A pity he chose the side that was trying to protect that secret, even from themselves. Joker had to recognize the balancing act he was playing and had it not been Strange leading the other side…

He was distracted and Riddler pounced on it. The puzzle master was finally able to tear his cane out of Scarecrow's grasp, but hesitation would not strike the master of fear. He rushed forward, clumsily rammed his shoulder into the other man and failing to knock the know-it-all to the ground.

With his right arm, he jabbed it to a side and got the joint between the cane and Riddler. Wedged in, he opened up the bent joint and raised his shoulder, destabilizing Riddler's grip enough to cause the cane to fall to the ground. With his right foot, he kicked it away.

Riddler tried to shove him, but Scarecrow grabbed onto the lapel of that green suit jacket. Stretching out his fingers, he readied the needles for a quick injection.

Then the green-suited man got lucky. His palm struck the former professor in the side of his face and took the distraction to rip himself away. Regaining his senses, Scarecrow lashed out with his needled hand and frustratingly missed.

Then Riddler picked up his cane and they were at a stalemate once more. They began to circle, neither taking their eyes off one another. Breathing heavily, Scarecrow shuddered in the chilling air.

"He's just going to betray you," he warned.

"Figured as much. He can't betray me if I betray him first," Riddler quipped back.

"Then why stick around? You already know he's using you as a pawn."

A smirk. "Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer. Is that not a popular phrase thrown about? Trust the devil you know than the devil you don't."

Implying that the Joker was the devil he knew nothing about. Pfft, of course no one knew the Joker. The only thing he could trust about that man was that he was untrustworthy himself. His persistence and dedication, however, were the only predictable aspects.

"Sometimes the devil you know is worse than then one you don't." The sole difference, for him, was that Strange was already a traitor. Joker hadn't yet, but it was fully expected.

"You are a man of obsession, it seems," Riddler remarked, his tone casual. "So one note. So gimmicky. Is there anything more to you?"

"You think I care about insults? I've grown a thick skin to them." He kept his anger from getting the better of him. "Do you know what I used to be? A psychologist. I did more than just research, I taught."

"Ah, a teacher as well. Tell me more."

He was buying time. That was obvious. The gothic, crypt-like monument came into his eyesight. "When I wasn't researching, I was teaching. When I wasn't teaching—"

"Let me guess, researching," Riddler interrupted.

"Wrong." He did enjoy seeing how blank Riddler's face became. "Therapy. To make ends meet, I had to engage in treating people. Anxiety more often than not."

"So, more than a two trick pony." A shrug of the shoulders, a dismissal in the cold air.

"I was always a scientist at heart, but the world, this world, is not so kind to them. You have to do things you would prefer not to to make ends meet. Suffice to say, I was a poor therapist. No patience at all since they were a distraction. But what about you? You're more than some riddles and puzzles, aren't you? Holding the city hostage for three days means you have some acumen."

"In spades. It's not often I find someone who can duke it out via wits, and while I know what every outcome will be, the surprises make each victory worth it." Riddler's thin lipped smile declared statement rather than boasting. Soft crackling underscored the moment as chill air blew between the circling men.

"I don't think we'll be changing any minds this day, much less winning hearts," Scarecrow stated, tensing his right arm. His thin body gave a shudder under the loose clothing he wore.

"One last clash?" Riddler summed one.

"Make it count," Scarecrow agreed.

The crackling grew louder. Shadow fell over the two men. One became distracted.

"What's…" Riddler glanced to a side.

Scarecrow poised himself for the strike, nearly took off in a run, but the other man's body language stopped him. Always so casual, always so relaxed, and now there was shock and tension in that suited body. The master of fear followed his adversary's gaze.

The gothic monument had ice creeping along it, forming a thin layer of it. From behind it, a wall rose above them, towering overhead, and chilling everything from air to nerves.

The wall shattered then, shards of ice acting as shrapnel and causing the dueling men to cry out and covering vital areas. If they had been shocked before, what emerged from a billowing cloud of icy particles could only be described as…

Terrifying.

Scarecrow knew he was the foremost expert on fear. He knew how it worked, how to create it, how to manipulate it. Chemistry was his preferred method to do so. He could admire those who wielded it, though.

The sight of a tall man in a futuristic suit crowned with a clear helmet was something to admire from an academic sense. A head possessing light blue skin, a facial expression as hard as a glacier, and a pair of goggles that possessed red lens completed a look that had come to be regarded as legend.

The reciprocal regard was closer to that of a man curiously watching an insect right before swatting it.

"Pardon my intrusion, but this meeting cannot be put off any further," a voice enhanced, distorted by its speaker said. The blue-skinned man's head turned from Scarecrow to the Riddler back, regarding them coolly as if they were mere insects. "Professor Crane, Mr. Nygma," he greeted them, his tone never changing.

Then with a calm, fury-suppressing voice, Victor Fries declared as he raised his infamous Freeze Gun, "The icy hand of vengeance falls upon you."


"Allow me to compliment you, Ivy, you are marvelous when you are in your element."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Strange," Pamela replied, though her smugness was clear as day.

"Is the truth flattery?" the former shrink inquired. "You have molded this park into a visage of the world you desire to usher in. You were able to handle everything our adversaries threw at us. You divided them and prevented intervention from third parties. Is not praise the least that can be offered for your efforts?"

"I do not need to be told of my competence and I think anything less than death will get you to be silent," the green-skinned lady of nature said. Her brow creased then relaxed. "Speaking of those who do not know when to stop talking, I think that one is trying to chew through the gag."

Strange took his eyes off the fascinating woman and focused them on his prey. Hanging upside down from the building's rafters and restrained by a multitude of vines were none other than the Joker and his lesser, female impersonator, Harleen Quinzel. One vine had the...honor...of wrapping around the clown's mouth, and with the way that pale jaw was rhythmically moving up and down, the word chewing was apropos.

After Ivy had separated the Joker from his comrades, she had dragged him and his female accomplice to this remote pavilion. He and the plant mistress awaited them there and Ivy had restrained them to their current status.

"Now, now, do not bother Ivy's vines, Joker. They are performing a service for their mistress and to be collateral damage to your madness is hardly a reward for such dedication," the professor gently reprimanded.

Angry grunts came from the upside down Harleen, perhaps some kind of attempt to defend the clown verbally? Well, her gag was still holding up.

"How shall I do this?" Pamela pondering, tapping her knuckles against her green cheek. "Constriction? Feeding? I have some man-eaters dying of hunger and I don't think they would mind a female. Or perhaps I should plant a seed? One that grows from within until it tears its way out of the body. It should prove to be incredibly painful."

Harleen gave a muffled squeak, rapidly shaking her head from side to side.

"I am appreciating the imagination," Strange chuckled. Eyeing Joker, he gave a small sigh and said, "Regretfully, I will have to ask you to remove the clown's gag, as much as I know how much we will regret it."

Pamela grimaced, but she complied. The vine that bore teeth marks on it slid out of Joker's mouth, after which the upside-down man began to spit.

"Pammy, have you ever thought of investing in vines that taste good? That was rancid, like force feeding my tongue a salad for every meal every day! Before I forget, that idea about the seed growing inside that body, now that sounds like it would be a gas! We can collaborate! Add some flair! Maybe make it an homage to pop culture! Come on, Pammy, baby—"

"I think we should kill him now," the eco-minded botanist seethed.

"In due time," Strange promised. Then, to his nemesis, "You can be so predictable, Joker. It was always believed that you were a smart man and yet you walk into an obvious trap."

"How better to spring it than to walk into it?" Joker pondered, eyes looking down at the floor thoughtfully.

"And here you are, at the mercy of your enemies," the former shrink continued, ignoring the attempt at banter. "Before I allow Poison Ivy the pleasure of killing you, there is one thing I am curious about. Tell me, why is it that you oppose Batman's unmasking? You would stand to benefit so much from it. What games could you play if only you knew."

"And that, Hugy my boy, is why you're second rate at best. A third stringer like you doesn't understand the gag." Joker shook his head as if he was the one disappointed. "Think about it. It's perhaps the greatest joke ever, not knowing. Just imagine it, I could walk right into Batsy, without his mask, without his grim dark façade, without anything that makes him Batman, and I could let him live without being the wiser. A homicidal maniac walks into a bar, meets his archenemy, but doesn't know it. They talk, maybe have a friendly chat over some drinks, one trying to keep his identity a secret and the other oblivious, and all it would take to ruin it is one, little, insignificant mistake. That his identity could be given away by one poorly chosen word, how isn't that funny? Why would I ever, ever, want to ruin that?

"Besides, I love the mystique. That's how our relationship works! I cause trouble, Batman coms and stops me, rinse and repeat. He's the greatest punchline ever! You don't ruin a perfect punchline! Without Batman, all the bombs, all the Joker Venom, all the fun that comes with crime...is meaningless."

Fascinating. Insightful even, but perhaps not in the way the madman thought. Oh, he had just given away the perfect means of hurting him. A perfect punchline as it were.

"Perhaps it should be slow," Strange spoke aloud. Then he tilted his head enough to glance at Pamela. "Slow enough to be excruciating, but not to the point of death. He should live long enough that we are able to reveal to him Batman's identity. Ruin his perfect punchline. Let him know the deepest levels of despair. One last insult before he dies with no counterattack planned for him. Make it his worst day ever."

"I already had one of those. I got better." Joker shrugged his shoulders, showing absolutely no sign that he was bothered by his impending doom.

Strange raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I will keep that in mind. Ivy, the seed you mentioned earlier, how long could you keep a person alive while it burrows its way through the body? Days? Weeks? An entire year?"

"Theoretical as of now, I think it bares a trial," Ivy commented. Eyeing their two captives, "We have two guinea pigs in which to test it."

"Then let us make it a test of endurance. Go slow. Go excruciating. For scientific curiosity, let us discover all the limits of the human body, what it can do and what it can withstand." The former shrink was unable to help the toothy grin that split his lips. "We should not allow their defeat to end in two corpses, but gain something from it. Knowledge. Their sacrifices will be payment enough."

"So third rate," Joker groaned, rolling his eyes. "If you're going to kill someone, just do it already. Start with Harley. She loves me too much to let me suffer."

Harleen snapped her head to glare at the upside down clown, staring with shock and disbelief.

Shaking her head, Ivy said, "I am going to enjoy this more than I should."

Strange nodded in agreement. "You find yourself in good company. Let's begin."


The two men had fled the mausoleum, running into the forest surrounding it. They both went in the same direction—a curious choice.

Let them flee, they would not escape. With a steady pace, Fries followed behind them. One of two options would present itself: one, they were going somewhere specific, which would allow him to corner and end this little game of theirs; two, they were seeking a place to hide from him, a thought that would spell their doom.

There was nowhere they could hide from him. He would find them and they would see the light of day through solid ice.

As he reached the tree line, Fries raised his ice gun and fired it into the trees, a wall of ice forming along the right side of the trail. Steam rose from the ice, wafting into the air. That sealed off that side as being a threat to him.

Not that there was much that could harm him. He had seen the remains of plantlife throughout this park. His suit was reinforced to handle most damage, including taking on a missile if need be. Claws and teeth would not be a threat.

Movement up ahead caught his eyes then. There, a figure stood, though too far to determine their identity. They were thin though, which matched the body type of one of those two Arkham fiends. Immediately, Fries took aim with his freeze gun and fired.

Unfortunately, the figure spotted the approaching beam and dove off of the trail, leaving the beam to hit the ground where they had stood, leaving a patch of ice that covered most of the trail. Picking up his pace, Fries strode to the spot, stopping at the ice and then looking off into the woods. There was no sign of the mystery figure, not even the hint of movement either.

So they were hiding. "You cannot hide from me," he called out even as he raised up his Freeze Gun, one hand grasping the barrel and turning it to one side, a clicking sound being made. Pointing the gun to his left, he then pulled the trigger.

BBBBRRRRRRAAAAAAAANNNNNNG!

Instead of the focused beam, a wide spray erupted from the gun's barrel. At a steady pace, Fries swung the gun from his left to his right, coating the entire area. When he was done, he looked at his handiwork.

The entire area was covered in frost, looking very much like a winter wonderland. Thin icicles hung beneath tree branches, grass and bushes coated white with small hints of green beneath them. Critically, Fries darted his eyes from side to side, listening for any cries of pain or surprise. His attack would have covered his target, the incredible cold stabbing into them like knives. No man could take that sort of pain without crying out.

Yet, he heard nothing. Pity. Looking away, he began following along the trail once more. When he reached the end of his ice wall, he adjusted his gun back to its beam mode and fired it, growing the wall further down the trail.

It would be some time before he caught sight of more movement, the sign of life. Coming to a stop, Fries watched for another sign of it.

He didn't have to wait for long. Leaping out of the forest was a large, green creature. It looked like the remains of others he had found throughout the park. It's rage-filled eyes and spiked claws were its most noticeable qualities. It let out a wild scream before charging at him.

Unperturbed, Fries raised his gun and fired it, freezing it in mid-run. Soon, it was encased in ice, a frozen statue. Striding towards it, he stopped to gaze at it up close. "Interesting," he remarked before continuing on his trek.

Eventually, the trail came to one of the many clearings within the park. As he entered it, he caught sight of another building, this one looking much like a pavilion. More importantly, there were lights coming out from the building.

Marching towards it, the closer he came, the more he could pick up on voices. Two were distinctly male, one deep and controlled, the other higher pitched and wild. "What is the meaning of this interruption?" the deeper voice demanded.

"There is...a situation…" the voice of the man in green spoke. At least Fries knew he had followed one of his targets.

"Yes, one in which you've brought Professor Crane with you, but not defeated or restrained."

"I would say that is a major failing there, Hugo," the high-pitched voice spoke. "You really should get better help."

"Your opinion is unnecessary and unwanted," Hugo retorted.

"But everyone wants my opinion! After all, all you wanted from me when I laid on your couch was to talk. Now you want me to stop? You're so inconsistent."

He had heard enough. Fries' face hardened the closer he drew until he reached the partially-opened door and then used his suit's enhanced strength to rip it off the hinges and toss it aside.

Inside he saw a number of people, two of whom were the very men he had been chasing. They were bent over, panting heavily as they propped themselves up with their hands on their knees. Hanging upside down from large vines were two people dressed very much like clowns. Based off of descriptions he had heard in prison, the male clown could only be the infamous Joker.

Lastly, there were two others here, standing upright and straight in posture. An older, balding man was gaping at him. Next to him was a woman dressed provocatively in green leaves, red hair cascading down her back.

These were the people responsible for the destruction of his wife's building. These were the ones to tear down the last vestige of her name from this city, effectively leaving it to be forgotten. If his face wasn't already frozen into a scowl, he would have done so. "I hope I am not interrupting," he intoned.

"The Iceman," the older man gasped before he looked at the two thin men, who were staring at him with abject horror. "And you led him right to me!"

Fries eyed the inside of the pavilion and noticed another set of doors. Clearly he had used a side entrance. Raising up his Freeze Gun, it was incidental that he pointed it at the old man and green woman.

BBBBRRRRRRAAAAAAAANNNNNNG!

The man and woman dove out of the way of the blast, the beam racing through the air until it came into contact with the main doors. Ice immediately formed over the wooden doors until it was a sheet of solid ice.

"None of you can leave," he told them as he took aim with his Freeze Gun. "And now the icy hand of vengeance falls upon you."