Do you believe in justice?

Yes, I do. My family is rather religious and my brother is a lawyer, so we talk about ethics a lot. I think, in the end we all know what the right thing to do is, and we all have to take responsibility for our own actions. If people cannot find justice in this life, I am pretty sure they will in the next.

Gina looked beautiful when she cried.

That was one thought Sophie just couldn't help thinking. Most people, including herself, looked awful when tears streamed down their flushed face and usually, the knowledge about how their eyes were swollen and their nose was running in an unappealing manner usually made them want to hide their outburst even more.

Gina, however, was someone who looked graceful when she cried. The tears that were leaving soft trails on her pale cheeks that had only turned slightly pink looked like little pearls, the way she bit her quivering lip looked strangely composed, and the sadness in her gaze was captivating.

Her voice wasn't high-pitched or hysterical, she just sounded tired, exhausted, and utterly disappointed. After every sentence, she would hesitate and sometimes take a sip of the camomile Sophie had made or simply look out of the window with empty eyes.

At some point, Gina had even smiled at her apologetically and said that she was sorry for turning up on her doorstep in this state. As if she was an inconvenience.

It was heart-breaking to see her friend this distressed. And in lack of a better idea, Sophie had offered her a hug, a cup of tea, a spot on her sofa, and a sympathetic ear. It was all she could do, but it still left her feeling useless and on edge.

Slowly, the words poured out of her friend's mouth and formed a story that left a lump in Sophie's throat.

Gina had attended a wedding, something she enjoyed tremendously since it meant seeing people at their happiest, drinking, and dancing. Her friend's wedding which had been carefully planned for the last year could have been perfect. The room, the band, the cake, the dress; everything had been flawless, and it could have been a magnificent evening if things hadn't gone so terribly wrong.

"There were two armed robberies, Sophie. Two. The first one was stopped by that criminal, Victor Zsasz. Everyone was so relieved because they thought he was there to save the day. But I remembered that my aunt said that Zsasz had ruined her business, and that there was no way to prosecute these people."

Sophie could feel that her friend's despair was starting to mix with anger. Her voice became steadier and the look in her watery eyes fierce.

"You should have seen him. I can't even describe that man. He didn't even need to shout or, I don't know, fire a warning shot or whatever people normally do. He just whistled, and I think these robbers were intimidated by him. He just went up against these four guys by himself and shot their leader's finger off, as if it was nothing."

She could far too well picture him doing that. His aim was almost perfect.

"And after they ran off, he congratulated Sonja, the bride, as if this was all just a joke to him. And then the second group with machine guns came and took everything. I know I should be mad at the robbers, but all I can think about is how this psychopath was so happy about ruining a perfect day."

Strangely, the word 'psychopath' stung. The lump in her throat had gotten too hard to swallow.

"He said that criminals need to buy licenses now to commit a crime. This city is going insane. I mean, who in their right mind would ever come up with something like that? There is no way legally regulating crime could ever work."

Except it does. Sophie thought bitterly.

"Thinking that there are people who pay for a lunatic like Zsasz in charge of deciding who can break which law just makes me sick. What if people can also get them for murder?"

It was then that it occurred to her that it wasn't unlikely that Victor Zsasz actually had a license for murder.

"That would be horrible…" Sophie muttered in agreement before she watched her friend clench her fist and take a deep breath.

"The police will never accept that. Whatever the people who sent Zsasz are trying to establish is never gonna work. They just cannot allow that."

But Gina did not sound as convinced as Sophie was sure she had hoped to.

Apparently, the police could allow that.

Oswald Cobblepot had somehow acquired the ownership of The Sirens and announced the beginning of what he liked to call the Pax Penguina to the press. And if comparing himself to Cesar wasn't megalomaniac enough, he had also put an ice block which contained Edward Nygma in the centre of the room.

At first, she had though that he had put an ice sculpture in the club to give it a flair of decadence. But after she had read the article which said that that the former mayor's best friend had to be frozen because of a terminal illness, she gave the photograph a second look and saw that it, in fact, contained a human being. A human being that had risen his hands in defeat.

Sophie thought that Oswald Cobblepot was right about one thing. This was a new era in Gotham. And this was a whole new crazy.

Or perhaps the madness of this city has just finally become institutionalised.

She had very mixed feelings about this.

The overall crime rate decreased so much, so there are less people being victimised. This probably results in fewer poor people and fewer small businesses losing everything. Organized criminals would focus on businesses which are economically strong enough to survive theft.

On the other hand, those robbers had chosen a wedding and not a charity event by Wayne Enterprises.

Yet, the inhibition threshold for committing a crime is higher. And, ironically, the price for that would be accepting crime. Or at least some crimes.

And this was where Sophie thought it got dangerous. Who oversaw which crimes were worth the peace?

If Oswald Cobblepot, the man whose former chief staff was now trapped in an over dimensional ice cube, was to say which crimes were too horrendous to happen, Sophie thought that the future of Gotham was going to be interesting, to say the least.

But the governing body of her beloved city did not seem to share her concerns. Word on the streets was that Gotham's executive force had accepted the alternative legislative system.

And soon, only the 15% of criminal activities that happened outside of the licensing system seemingly were the only thing that kept the GCPD occupied.

Never before had Sophie ever wondered if working for the GCPD could be a boring job.

She also wondered if her criminal acquaintance saw the irony in how his work resembled that of a police officer- and if this alternative, new justice system aligned with his codex.

With a sigh, she closed the newspaper and indulged into the weirdly comforting feeling that Victor Zsasz could not be arrested by anyone right now. That he truly was invincible.

It felt like a long time ago that Joice would have those nights in which she lay awake in her bed and felt scared of monsters that could have hidden under her bed or ghosts that might just wait until she falls asleep before they make their way through the walls and wind up in her bedroom. Whenever she felt scared, she would pull her blanket all the way up to her skin and stare at the shadows that were dancing through her room with fearful eyes. While she knew that the shadows were caused by the tree in their garden which obstructed the moonlight and whose branches were moved by the wind, she still wistfully thought about how it would have been alright to wake up her parents a few years ago. The last couple of times she had felt that way, she knew that she was far too old for stealing the two of them a precious hour of sleep just so that she could enjoy a glass of hot milk with honey and their reassuring words.

Now, the shadows that were dancing on her walls weren't caused by any trees interacting with the moonlight. During the day, the shadows remained inside of her, it was only at night, when she was alone, that they would become visible and detach themselves from her body. Joice wasn't sure if she was as terrified of her shadows as she had been from those of the tree. But she was sure that a glass of hot milk with honey would not have made any difference.

Author's Note: I know it's been ages, sorry! A big thank you to Tefnout for providing the question in the beginning.