The Arkham Knight was pissed.

Not only did she manage to persuade Scarecrow into joining, and did this by showing her strange immunity to his fear toxin and took out a further seven armed men without difficulty, but somehow he found himself being stuck with her. And the alluring smile on her face emphasised just how pleased she was with herself. She wore something different the last time he spoke to her with a wardrobe that never stayed uniform; a silk cardigan with a Chinese dragon snaking up her back and left sleeve and a dark, revealing bodysuit that drew attention to her breasts than any other part of her body. Even brought some accessories with her: a silver anklet, a matching chunky bracelet and straightened hair to finish the look. The Arkham Knight was more surprised that she did all that and still made it to the rendezvous before he did.

"Lighten up," she told him, noticing how tightly he gripped the steering wheel by the tension of his leather gloves. "You could've been sitting here with someone you don't like."

"Aren't I doing that already?"

"You don't like me? That's a shame. I'd like me."

"You really don't have to engage in conversation with me."

"But what if I do?"

"You really don't." Alias laughed.

"You're so angry it's almost endearing. I almost wonder about the man that's hiding underneath."

"Do you?"

"Yeah," she sighed, placing her elbow on the vehicle door and held her jaw in her palm. "You're most in shape out of all the villains parading around Gotham...well, maybe aside from Slade, you're proved your leadership skills and amassed an army trained by you and you're even hiding your voice with a modulator. I know Gotham City but I'd sure love to get to know you."

"...how endearing."

Alias felt the sarcasm in the Arkham Knight's distorted tone and backed off, "Okay, Knight, I can take a hint. Engaging in any sort of talk with you might probably get me shot. Again, again." Twirling a lock with a finger, Alias glared out the window to examine the world outside the armoured jeep; torn posters, closed shops and abandoned houses and cars. Then there was the actuality under the morals, with riots at almost every corner, a police car pursuing their suspects and then there was them. A Meta Mercenary and the Arkham Knight, both dangerous in different ways that actually compliment each other. Ice, something seen to be beautiful and elegant, and guns, known to be ruthless and direct with its purpose.

A mix made in limbo, because heaven and hell didn't exist in a world like this.

Just as the ambiguous man turned the junction with an encrypted bomb deep into the concrete, something flared in Alias's mind and she glared up at the buildings with a close eye, knowing that whatever she was going to find wasn't going to be on their side. Without warning, she opened the floor and jumped out, rolling on the ground before recovering swiftly and heard another door slam shut.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Are you stupid?"

"Unless that was a compliment, I don't think so."

"Scarecrow didn't say I can't kill you. Starting to think that's what I should've done the second I saw you."

"Aren't you just adorable? I just got this feeling..." A small spot of heat emanated from her temple and she raised a brow, leaning out of the way when the shot went off. "Why does everyone want to kill me? Is this a thing now? Am I that easy of a target or maybe it's because I'm with the man of the hour."

"How did you―"

"Like you've said before, walking Wikipedia: infrared perception. So, shall we deal with them so they're not more of a hassle than they already are?" The Arkham Knight reached behind him for his pistols before putting one of them in an upright position, twisting his wrist slightly as a barrel extended from the safety, and brought the other pistol to the muzzle, Alias watching in wonderment as his weapons became a sniper rifle.

"Let's go."

"Guess we are gonna have some fun. Scared of heights?"

"No."

"So straightforward. I like that." The icy mist accumulated off her hands again as she stepped back and gestured her hand upwards, an ice tower erupting under the Knight's feet that had launched him into the air with enough momentum to reach the rooftop. He flipped onto one knee and felt the cold breeze of Alias as she landed beside him, already marking out their enemies. "There's eight, two are unarmed. Not friendlies."

"Then it shouldn't be a problem. I'll wait for your signal." A soft smile stretched across her face as he brought out some sort of grappling hook and whisked into the air, giving her complete control of what was about to happen to the eight poor guys supposedly keeping watch. Not like she cared about their safety, they weren't on her side. End of. Alias picked up a convenient lone brick by her foot and threw it at a convenient lone window that was perched against a short flight of steps, the sound of it smashing alerting those that were closest and they rushed to find, and not find, Batman standing there. It was only her, and even so they fired at her, becoming more agitated as they found their rounds surrounded by ice on the floor and her wrist slowly turning to maintain the thin, icy shield.

"Let's try that again," she whispered as she brought out her arms beside her, the hazy mist eyes clouding her cheeks as frosty winds were summoned from a mere breeze to a violent blizzard in seconds, impairing her enemies' vision as well as creating anti-pockets so the Arkham Knight could take them out one by one. Her hair whipped against her face for only ten seconds as she had calmed down the winds after that, humming in satisfaction as he landed beside her with all eight bodies on the floor with a hole in their heads and blood pooling out. But Alias pointed at one, "There's two bullets in him."

"He didn't drop fast enough," he replied as he reloaded one of his guns, the Meta kicking over one who had fallen on their stomach and widened her eyes at the insignia sewn to their bulletproof vest. Just one glance pried open memories she couldn't understand and felt all the same. She staggered back and craned her neck, passing the Knight who kept his digital gaze on her. He wanted to say something but she let out a calm puff of air and placed a hand on her hip.

"I know you've got questions."

"Who are they?"

"Poltergeists that flew across oceans to haunt me. Here, they're not pretty known but overseas you'd call them Syndicate. They front as a PMC but their real specialty is genetic modification and rehabilitation of superhumans. I was the first successful Meta they managed to condition."

"You were a part of these guys?"

"I didn't have a choice," she snapped back, walking up to him as she said her sentence before biting her bottom lip. The Alias that stood before him, was one stripped of something human. Like him. "I was used against my will."

"Didn't mean to ask."

"No, you were curious. I'm wondering why they're posted in Gotham."

"You think you can find the rest of them?"

"If I haven't met them, they're gonna be a warm body with the rest of the warm bodies but I know that they won't be the last. Let's go." Alias began walking to the edge and expected for him to be beside her, only to be swept off the rooftop and she let out a surprised squeal as they whisked through the air. It felt comforting in a weird way, the way his arm was around her waist and how he pressed her against his body. It was almost too comforting to be true.

Suddenly her senses narrowed and her head snapped to a black-clad militia with an RPG aiming right at them. "Knight―!" Her hands came up just as the militia fired, her icy barrier strong enough to stop it exploding in their faces but not enough to absorb the shockwave. The Arkham Knight had lost his grip on her and their altered trajectory flung them into the ceiling window of a warehouse, the shattered glass and violet ice decorating the rug they recklessly landed on and they gradually came to a stop.

The Knight recovered first, pressing himself off the floor and realised that Alias had gone awfully quiet. "Alias...you okay?" He heard her moan breathlessly and crawled towards her, noting her unconscious state by her lack of interaction, and placed a hand under her neck with his thumb cupping her cheek. "Can you hear me?" She moaned again and weakly covered his hand with hers, and couldn't fight the smile that faintly embroidered her glossy lips.

"Don't tell me you're...getting soft on me...Knight."

"We can't stay here. They'll circle the place and investigate for bodies, and we're too exposed."

She moaned, "We still need to...get rid of them."

"We'll talk about that later but right now we're leaving." He held onto her arm, draped it over his shoulder and hooked his arms under her knees and lower back. She pressed her head against his chest once he got her off the floor and listened to the sound of his heartbeat under all his armour. It wasn't slow but it wasn't quick either, just paced enough to conclude his worry towards her. The Arkham Knight, worried about a woman who he wanted to kill?

That was beyond her.

He had put her down when they were in the elevator, and he hit the last button on the panel before stepping back and letting out a long exhale. "You okay?" He echoed his words and reached behind him for his modified pistols. She dusted off her clothes and pressed her back on the elevator wall, her eyes casted on his bat-ears.

"I'll be fine. I've handled worse."

"You did take an RPG head-on. Why did you do that?"

"What?"

"Sacrifice yourself."

"I didn't. I only raised my guard and blocked it. Nothing personal."

"...whatever you say. Just warn me next time."

"You wouldn't have reacted fast enough. Also, I suggest you use the emergency shaft. Five armed men are waiting on the ground floor, likely Syndicate. A surprise attack wouldn't hurt."

"And what about you?"

"I'm your decoy." The Knight let out a sound and shot out of the metal box in seconds, the Meta Mercenary fixing her hair and gathering the cold around her with her aura surrounded by chilly whispers and her eyes closed. How did she let that happen? A simple explosion knocked her out. She'd suffered worse and yet couldn't handle an explosion.

The corner of her lips curled down slightly. An error that would've led to her death. How pathetic.

She ignored the pointless conversation of the Syndicate militia waiting for them as their voices got louder and louder, and didn't give them the chance to react to her presence as she let out a forceful blast that threw all men off their feet. The hazy mist was already burning against her face as she casually walked out of the elevator, a round sounding off. She knelt down next to one of the militia still dazed from her elemental attack and smashed his jaw with her knee and ducked under the Knight's roundhouse to deal with the man in mid-swing. She used her cardigan to stun her opponent and went for quick strikes, executing a spinning back kick to his chest cavity when his breathing got faster and heavier. Her attacker slumped to the ground and she turned around just as the Knight countered a punch and shot his opponent in the face and was half-glad he left one for interrogation. She was just more surprised he reached the last man first and effortlessly held him in the air in a chokehold.

"Who sent you?" he spoke bitterly, his gun just under the man's chin, and Alias kicked an arm out of her path as the hazy mist vanished.

"Why would I―"

"I don't think he stuttered," she interrupted as she materialised beside the Arkham Knight in a shimmer of light violet ice and startled their interrogatee. "Did you hear him stutter? No, and neither did I. I suggest you answer him."

"I won't ask again."

"I was just ordered here, I swear! Our leader never shows her face, she just tells us what to do―!"

"Did she order you to kill me?"

"That's confi―" A blade sung through the air and it took the Knight a moment to realise her quick learning, and held her elemental weapon to his throat. Now they looked more like a team, bonded by the intent to kill whoever's in their way. The Arkham Knight and a Meta Mercenary, a match made in limbo. His cold, livewire face with her cloudy eyes made the man shrink in terror.

"The only reason as to why Syndicate is here is because of me. Either I didn't try hard enough getting rid of you or maybe I am being haunted. So why are you here?"

"I-I told you the truth! We were just ordered here! I swear!"

"You're full of excuses, aren't you? Sorry, but you've just ran out of time." Their interrogatee begged for his life and Alias turned away from the execution, still annoyed by her vulnerability and crossed her arms. The Arkham Knight carelessly tossed the dead interrogatee away and peered off his shoulder, Alias's silence bringing up his uneasiness again.

"It's funny," she started. "You'd think I'd be willing to go back, nestled in the arms of my creators but when every memory of them hurts you'd understand. Then a whisper in your ear tells you to kill the Arkham Knight and you also have to wonder who's actually pulling your strings." The Knight paused in motion before he turned around to face her back, placing his firearm back in its holster. "I can't trust the Syndicate because I'm afraid they messed with my memories. I can't even remember my own name."

"You had a mark on me?"

"Have. Whether I eliminate you is entirely up for debate but I'm starting to enjoy your presence."

"Why are you telling me this? You don't know me."

Alias sighed. "Although the hate is one-sided, I started to get the feeling that you don't seem to like me but I was assigned to your unit regardless of your personal judgement. We're going to be working together for Halloween. So just promise me something, Knight."

"You really are a kid."

"And kids are cruel," she softly replied as she turned to glance at his digital facade. "What do you say? Can you make a deal with a living demon, or are you waiting to turn into one yourself?" He froze on the inside. Her gentle voice alongside her smile, it was...it was almost like she saw into his soul, his black, torn soul filled with what he used to be. Alias shrugged with her hands raised, "I'll take your eerie silence is a yes. How amusing, the Arkham Knight willing to bet everything and anything on a woman who's been sent to kill him. I'm looking forward to seeing how this story ends." The Meta stared at the well-barricaded doors several metres away from the elevator and sauntered to it, not waiting up for the ambiguous man as she gestured with her hand and glassy violet rose from the ground.

"We both know how it ends. Gotham's legend erased from existence." She smirked and clenched her fist, the doors shattering to her will as her ice infected its woody core and rearranged its structure. Its once solid build collapsed onto the scarred ground in elemental fragments and she stepped outside. Two vehicles whizzed past her, a blaring police car chasing a muscle car of thugs. To her right, a couple of rioters ran in her opposite direction and one of Syndicate's vehicles; left abandoned.

"Good. That means you can keep a promise."