It was only years of active combat experience and hard training that allowed him to maintain his composure. Whirling around from the desk, Percy rounded on the pair of shellshocked guards, who were gaping in abject awe and horror at the flashing emergency sirens in the ceiling.
"Armory!" Percy barked, unwittingly dropping back into the role he'd once filled in the Legion.
The guards jumped in fright, and turned to face him. The nearest, a kid who couldn't have been more than nineteen, babbled incoherently at him. Growling in frustration, Percy stalked towards the men,
"Where is the armory?" He asked again, taking care to speak more slowly and to carefully enunciate each word.
"W-wha-" The young guard stammered,
"The armory son!" He barked, his frustration boiling over at the sheer incompetence on display before him, "Where is the godsdamned armory! I've seen the schematics; I know this island has an armory in every building. We need to lock it down before any of the inmates can get there first!"
He also needed to furnish himself with a weapon. While he was more than capable of defending himself from some psychotic thugs, he couldn't exactly go around showing off what he could do in a facility with more cameras than bathrooms. While he still had his hidden backup sidearm in his hip holster, he would feel an awful lot more comfortable if he was packing something with a bit more heat to it.
"Sector three!" Squeaked out the younger guard's frightened partner, who looked to be nearer to Percy's age, and only slightly less rattled than his partner. "By the barracks."
"Move it! We need it locked down now!"
"Wait!" A packed voice cried out before the guard could respond, and the receptionist barreled back into the room. She was looking hysterical, her eyes wide in terror and her hair already looking in disarray.
"Take me with you, please! I-you can't leave me alone with these animals!"
Percy almost groaned, but nodded all the same. he wasn't thrilled about the prospect of babysitting civilians, but he wasn't about to leave the poor woman alone with the inmates, lord only knew what might happen to her otherwise.
"Stay close, and don't wander off," Percy ordered, and the frightened woman nodded, scooting as close as possible to Percy, who ignored her and turned his attention back to the guards.
"Are you two armed?" He asked,
"J-just stun batons, sir," The older of the guards answered,
"Day just keeps getting better and better," Percy grumbled as he pulled his own side-arm from its hidden holster and he loaded in a magazine,
"How did you-" The older guard started to ask, then seemed to think better of it and fell silent.
"Stay close and point me in the right direction." Percy ordered, and the older guard nodded his head shakily and they proceeded off at a careful, but quick pace. Percy was leading the small party, his weapon drawn and scanning the empty corridor, with the receptionist clutching tightly at his back and the two guards flanking him, stun batons drawn and their eyes swerving from right to left nervously.
As they walked, Percy kept his senses expanded outwards, constantly searching for any and all possible incoming threats. But with the density of the building, the sheer number of bodies inside, the plumbing and the small matter that they were trapped on an island, his senses were going a little haywire. He was almost overwhelmed with the amount of sensory input that was coming his way, but he pushed through his difficulties and maintained a steady pace, but he paused as he approached the next corridor. There were three bodies coming their way, it was difficult to interpret who they were by the shapes of water on their own, but their posture and relaxed demeanor told the story for him.
Pausing against the corridor wall, he held a fist up, and felt as the receptionist he still didn't know the name of walked into him. He held up three fingers, and pointed at the upcoming corridor. Glancing over his shoulder, he pointed at the younger guard and then at small junction in the corridor. The young man gulped, but nodded as he seemed to understand what Percy was getting at, and he tucked himself into the small junction, hiding him from view. Percy then repeated the gesture to a similar junction on the opposite side of the hall, and the other guard followed suit.
"Stay behind me, and do exactly as I tell you." Percy said in an undertone to the woman behind him. He felt her ball her hands into the back of his shirt in response. Turning his attention back to the hallway, he raised his weapon back into the air and waited. Moment by moment crept by as the sound of footsteps and voices drew steadily closer. With each passing moment, the woman dug her hands more into his shirt, until Percy could literally feel her nails digging into his skin.
But he ignored the sensation and focused solely on the men that appeared around the corner.
He had been correct, they were inmates. The lead inmate halted as he came around the corner, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw Percy standing there, weapon raised and pointed directly at his chest.
People had very interesting reactions to having a live weapon pointed at them. Most did the sensible thing, and tried their best to make sure that the weapon wasn't used on them. Others such as the unfortunate man in front of him, opted instead to adopt a faux sense of confidence and bravado. Masking their fear and apprehension with over-confidence and a false sense of invincibility.
"Well look what we have hear boys," The leader crooned, smirking nastily in their direction "A pair of lost little lambs. Ain't you heard the boss, this ain't your Asylum anymore."
"Only warning," Percy said, "On the ground, hands behind your head, or I put you in the dirt."
"Get a load 'a this mook," The lead inmate chuckled, gesturing to Percy with the large iron pipe in his hand, "Look at 'im, poor bastard's practically shakin' whaddya boys, say we put him outta his misery?" He took a confident step forward, and Percy depressed the trigger twice in rapid succession. The hall echoed with the result cracks of the weapon, and the receptionist let out a shrill scream as the inmate's stomach shook, each bullet finding their mark effectively. His mouth contorted into a brief look of confusion, before horror and fear took its place. He collapsed to the floor, blood pooling out and coagulating on the floor. The other thugs didn't have a chance to react, as on cue, the two guards stepped out from their hiding places, batons raised high in the air. Both connected with the sides of the inmates and they collapsed to the ground, convulsing for a few seconds before falling still.
"Y-you…" Stammered out the receptionist, "Y-you…h-he…b-but…"
"Good work," Percy said to the guards, ignoring the shell-shocked woman.
"This…" The older guard, that Percy only just saw was wearing a tag with the name Boucher, shook his head, "This is insane."
"Thought breakouts happened all the time," Percy commented as he stepped over the bodies and began his way slowly down the hall once more,
"Breakouts have happened, but nothing like this." Boucher said, flanking Percy's side, "You're going to take the next left."
"Well from what I've heard about the Joker, this seems pretty par for the course."
"Never seen him before?"
"Just transferred a few months ago, haven't run into any of super-freaks yet."
"Lucky you." Boucher shuddered, "Jokers…calling him insane understates it. He's-he's an entirely different breed. I'm not even sure he's human at this point. To pull something like this off?" He shuddered again and fell silent.
Percy couldn't help but agreeing with the man. To pull something like this off, it required a hell of a lot more than any single man should have been capable of, and the more Percy considered what was happening, the more he was becoming convinced that everything had been set in motion months ago. That nothing was a mere coincidence. The attack at Blackgate? The transfer of the inmates to Arkham? The Joker's kidnapping of the mayor and apparent capture?
It was all too coincidental; everything had been set in motion far sooner than they could have been predicted.
Which brought Percy to another more concerning line of thought.
Why was he there? Clearly there had been a setup to send him here, that much was obvious. But what was Winston's role in all of this? Winston didn't have the resources to pull all of this together, and Percy seriously doubted that he was on the Joker's radar enough for him to want Percy of all people on the island. The only explanation was that there was something else going on as well. Something or someone else that was manipulating things that wanted Percy on the island.
His first thought was that it was one of his many divine enemies. Someone who wanted him dead but couldn't intervene in mortal affairs conventionally. But he wrote that off as unlikely. It wasn't any of the divine's styles to work so closely with mortals or to work in the dark like this. Which meant that whoever wanted him dead was a mortal, but who? Who had he pissed off that could have the kind of necessary power and pull to get him here? Falcone? That was surely possible, and Percy had made it fairly clear that he wasn't going to rest until the bastard was behind bars.
But would even he be desperate enough to employ the likes of the Joker? Once again, Percy had his doubts. The Joker was the ultimate wild card, and only the fool of fools would think that they would be able to control that madman. There was no way that Falcone would be stupid enough to get into bed with Joker. Not just to kill some cop who refused to get in line.
No. There had to be something else going on.
But what?
And more importantly, who?
He was brought out of his musings by their arrival to the armory. Luckily the architects of the Asylum hadn't been dumb enough to label the stockpile, but Percy had spent enough time around weapons stores that he was quick to recognize the enhanced and reinforced architecture around the armory.
Boucher walked up to a section of the wall, and pressed on it. The wall depressed and revealed a biometric scanner, pressing his palm against the scanner there was a beeping sound, before the wall clicked, hissed, and then opened wide revealing a doorway. Sliding a key card through another security slot on the door, the door opened and Boucher quickly ushered them inside.
"It's on a five second timer," He explained as the others made it into the room. "As an added security measure to make sure no inmates can have the opportunity to get inside."
Percy glanced around the room, it was secure enough he supposed, but he was far more interested in being proactive than holing up in the small room for the rest of the night. His eyes landed on the gun racks at the other side of the room. Without hesitation, he marched over to the racks and grabbed the nearest assault rifle. There were crates of munitions on the wall perpendicular to the racks. Reaching over, Percy grabbed the nearest crate of 5.56 and began loading rounds into a pair of cartridges.
"W-what are you doing?" The younger guard, whose name was apparently Brooks, shakily stepped forward and watched Percy work.
"You're…you're not going back out there are you?" He looked horrified by the prospect, and even more horrified by the thought that Percy might ask him to tag along.
"Yup," Percy said simply, as he slammed the cartridge home, and chambered a round. Placing the rifle on the table, he glanced around the room again, before seeing a pair of discarded tactical vests on a table. Walking over, he made a cursory inspection of the vests, feeling them down and was satisfied to find that there were SAPI plates already inserted. Grabbing one of the vests, he checked to make sure it fit him, and after a few minor adjustments was pleased with the snug fit.
"Are you insane?" The receptionist shrieked, looking horrified. "We-we-we can't go back out there! It's a mad house!"
"We aren't going anywhere." Percy corrected as he went back over to the racks and began filling up additional cartridges with ammunition. "You, are staying here. I am going back out there."
"Why the hell would you do that?" Boucher asked,
"Because someone sent me here, knowing damn well that the man I was sent to interrogate doesn't exist. I plan to find out why." He slipped his sidearm into a new holster on his hip, and slung the rifle over his shoulder. Spying an abandoned radio earpiece on the table, he reached over, and connected the pack to his hip, before putting the piece in his ear.
"These things connected to the broadband channel?"
"…Yeah." Boucher looked like he wanted to protest Percy going back out there, but he seemed to think better of it. If Percy had a death wish, then that was on him.
"Perfect," Percy muttered, as he made his way to the door. "Stay in here, and don't let the door open for anyone. I'll send out an all clear when this mess gets cleaned up."
"Wouldn't bet on that." Brooks muttered, but Percy ignored him, and hit the panel on the wall beside the door. With a hiss, the door opened and a second later it closed, as Percy stepped out into the hall.
He flicked the safety off, and began following the arrows on the floor that were directing him towards the I.T. center of the building.
Flicking off the safety on the rifle in his arms, he set off.
It was time to hunt.
BREAK
For the umpteenth time that night, he let out a small sigh and took a sip of the now cold tea at his side.
Alfred Pennyworth was having a long night. Another, long night rather. After the last several years, he had become accustomed to working these types of late hours, but tonight was going to amount to one of the hardest of his life, of that he was certain.
It had been bad enough when dinner had been interrupted by news of the clowns kidnapping of the mayor downtown. But a bad night had become outright nightmarish when Master Bruce had gotten locked on that damnable island.
Damn it all. Damn the living hell that was Gotham. Damn Joe Chill. Damn that blasted clown to the deepest, and most fiery pits of hell itself.
Not for the first time since his young master had donned his alter ego, he wished that someone had gotten a lucky shot and ended the life of the miserable monster that had caused tonight's mess. For some random officer to fire off the shot that ended the bastard's life, if for no other reason than to free Master Bruce from this seemingly never-ending game of one ups-Manship between the two.
It wasn't that he didn't agree with his ward's philosophy when it came to his extracurriculars. On the contrary, it was one of the few aspects of the man's life that Alfred genuinely agreed with. The likes of the Justice League were playing on an entirely different playing field than the rest of humanity. Master Bruce most of all had a…trying mental state. His own fragile mind-scape was already on the verge of breaking as it was, and should the man cross the proverbial line and take a life intentionally, then it was an unquestioned reality that he would never stop. With his talents, and endless resources, the only thing standing between Bruce and becoming something…horrific was the Justice League.
But not even they would pose much of a problem if the contingency plans on the Bat Computer were anything to go by.
There would be no stopping him. No stopping him from killing anyone and everyone that he deemed as "guilty." It was a reality that had kept Alfred awake at night on more than one occasion.
But while he agreed with Master Bruce's most unbreakable rule, it did not mean that he did not wish death upon the miserable bastard who made it his life's mission to murder as many people as possible in a vicious and cruel attempt to get his ward to break his rule.
He changed the camera angle away from the Intensive Care unit, and began looking at the cameras in the Penitentiary. The majority of the inmates from Blackgate had been moved to that building of the Asylum, and it was worth knowing exactly what the situation was looking like on that part of the island.
Not that Alfred had high hopes for it.
At the least, he could hope that the poor bastards trapped inside were managing to survive. He paused and had to look again as he clicked to a camera in the hall of the southern part of the Penitentiary, a short distance away from where the blueprints listed the armory for that wing of the island was positioned. He watched as a pair of inmates confronted two guards and what appeared to be two civilians. But as he squinted, adjusting the spectacles on his nose, he realized with a start that one of the civilians was not a civilian at all.
"What the devil are you doing here detective?" He muttered as he watched the scene unfold.
Unfortunately, the cameras in the building weren't equipped with microphones so he couldn't hear what was being said, but judging by the fact that Detective Jackson had managed to arm himself, he could wager what was being said. The inmate that appeared to be the leader stepped forward, brandishing the large pipe in his hand menacingly. The detective didn't hesitate in the slightest, and a moment later the inmate was shot down in the hall, and the other inmates were dispatched by the guards the detective had come across.
What on earth was the demigod son of the Roman god of the seas doing on Arkham Asylum. He'd checked the records earlier when the breakout occurred, in order to determine precisely who was on the island, but the detective's name was nowhere on the list. Unconsciously, his hand hovered over to the radio connection he shared with Batman, intent on informing the man of this recent development.
But he hesitated.
The smallest shred of an idea occurred to him. A crazy, yet potentially brilliant idea. One that would, should it ever come to light, undoubtably tarnish the relationship he had with the man he thought of as a son forever.
But an opportunity had presented itself to him. An opportunity to rid himself, and the world, of a menace that needed to be put to rest like that mad dog that he was.
But how to go about doing it? How did he get ahold of the detective in order to share with him the plan that had taken root in his mind?
Luck, or perhaps fate, was on his side. There was a camera in the armory, which the detective had found within short order. True to form with the man, he immediately began equipping himself for combat. He supposed that a man of action such as the detective would be completely unable to keep himself out of a fight such as this.
The detective had found a radio, and Alfred found his opening. When the detective cleared the room, and was alone in the Asylum once more, he took the opportunity. He clicked on the screen that enabled him to communicate over the radio frequency used in the Asylum, and quickly set an encryption. Taking a breath to compose himself, he adjusted the microphone on his face, and cleared his throat.
"Good evening detective,"
BREAK
Percy jumped in alarm at the sudden voice in his ear. Raising the rifle, he scanned his surroundings, he'd been careful about using his abilities to find any potential threats, but it wasn't a foolproof system.
"My apologies detective," The voice said in his ear, and Percy whirled around but there was nobody there. He gulped and sweat dribbled down the back of his neck. "I did not mean to startle you."
"Who are you?" Percy demanded, as he got out of the middle of the corridor, and tucked himself into a small alcove in the hall.
"I am a friend of a mutual acquaintance; I aid him in his…nightly activities."
Percy paused, and then lowered the weapon,
"I didn't know the Bat played nice with anybody."
"Oh, I assure you that he does not." The voice chuckled, "But I fear that I seem to have wormed my way into providing my assistance, rather reluctantly though I suppose. You may call me Oracle."
"I'm not calling you that," Percy said, rolling his eyes. Honestly, what was it with Capes and ridiculous codenames. The disembodied voice chuckled again in his ear,
"I had thought that the American military was rather fond of using silly codenames. I would have thought you were used to it."
"I thought it was stupid then, and I think it's stupid now." Percy retorted, "You know my name, and I'm guessing more than you have any right to know, now who are you?"
There was a pause on the line, and Percy thought for a moment that the man had disconnected from the call, but then he spoke up again. This time however, he sounded genuinely remorseful.
"You are…correct, detective. And for what it's worth, I am genuinely sorry for the invasion into your life."
Percy snorted, "Sure." He said bitterly,
"You may call me Alfred." Alfred said, and Percy nodded to himself,
"Alfred then, what do you want? Can't imagine the big bad bat would be too happy to be contacting me." He paused, "He does know you're contacting me, doesn't he?"
"He does not," Alfred replied, "And you are quite right, he would not be pleased with me that I am contacting you, but I believe that I have good cause to do so."
That certainly had his attention.
"Yeah?" Percy asked, as he peeked around the corner,
"You can relax detective," Alfred assured him, "The nearest inmates are three floors above you. I assure you that I can inform you of any potential harms coming your way."
"Of course, you've hacked the camera's" Percy grumbled, even as his posture relaxed and he began a leisurely pace back down the hallway,
"Okay then Alfred, you still haven't told me what all of this is about."
"My apologies detective, allow me to explain. I've reached out to you tonight because I have a favor to ask."
"That's bold of you." Percy observed, as he glanced at a directory on a wall, and traced his way to the I.T. center with a finger,
"Indeed, however I believe that what I have in mind will interest you."
"Yeah?" He snorted, "What makes you think that?"
"Because I want you to help me kill the Joker."
Percy stopped mid-step, and unconsciously looked up at the ceiling as though he were talking to God.
"I think I might have misheard you…" He said slowly, "Because it sounded a hell of a lot like you just asked me to kill the Joker."
"I did," Alfred affirmed, "The man needs to die,"
"Won't disagree with you there." Percy muttered, "But why the fuck are you asking me about that? I thought you Capes were all about not killing people."
"Point of correction, I am not a superhero."
Percy snorted,
"And yes, The Batman would be…most displeased if he knew what I had in mind,"
"I don't think you could understate that more if you tried."
Alfred ignored him,
"And The Batman's own moral code forbids him from taking the bastards life himself, something I reluctantly agree with myself."
"So you want me to do his dirty work for him?" Percy snapped, feeling suddenly angry, "I'm not a godsdamn errand boy, and I'm sure as hell not some kind of hitman for Capes."
"I know you're not." Alfred said patiently, "And I-I understand what it is I'm asking of you."
"Do you?" Percy asked hotly, "Because it sounds a lot like you're asking me to kill someone? Twisted son of a bitch or not, you and I both know that I can't just walk up and put a bullet in the bastard's brain! Unlike your Bat, I have a goddamn career I have to worry about!"
"I understand that detective," Alfred soothed, "But think about your circumstances for a moment. Do you truly believe that there is a jury in the entire country that would find you guilty of killing that madman given the circumstances?"
Percy ground his teeth against one another and he forced himself to try and calm down.
"Be that as it may." He ground out, "I have other priorities than getting involved in superhero bullshit."
"You are referring to your presence on the island, yes?"
Percy was starting to dislike this man.
"I admit to being curious to that as well, why are you here detective?"
Percy was very sorely tempted to tear the earpiece out, throw it the ground, and stomp it to little gray matter. But he was stressed, and annoyed, and there was an obnoxious little voice in the back of his head that was telling him that this was an opportunity for him. An opportunity that he could take advantage of.
"I don't know," He said, "Got a call from Winston just after the Joker call was put out, and I was ordered to come here and interrogate some guy who was saying he'd only speak to me."
Percy could hear the man hum to himself over the intercom followed by what sounded like typing at a keyboard.
"I assume that when you got here, it turned out that there was no one here to see you?"
"Got it in one. No record of anyone by the name of Gar al S'hul, no one has heard of him before. I was going to head over to I.T. and see if I could dig anything up there."
"…Gar al S'hul?" Alfred asked quietly, a slight tremor in his voice that caused Percy to pause.
"You know him?" He asked,
"Yes…yes I'm afraid that I do. But I know him by another name entirely. The man you are searching for…is R'as al Ghul."
"Ominous." Percy snorted, "You make him sound like the damn boogie man."
"He might as well be." Alfred muttered bitterly, "He is the head of an organization of the deadliest assassins in the world…They call themselves the League of Shadows."
Percy snorted, he couldn't help himself, "The League of Shadows?" He laughed, "You sure that isn't just this guy's WoW server?"
"I assure you that this is no laughing matter detective." Alfred demurred, "What on earth did you do that has the League of Shadows after you?"
"The fuck should I know?" Percy asked, "This is the first time I've ever even heard of these guys before!"
"This is problematic," Alfred muttered to himself,
"No shit?" Percy asked sarcastically,
"I believe it would be best to continue your way to the tech center, detective," Alfred instructed, "I have only limited access to the records from here, but I believe we might be able to find some clue as to exactly why or how the League of Shadows has been interfering in your life."
Percy didn't move, "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because I wish to guilt you into helping me." Alfred said, and Percy couldn't help but appreciate the brutal honesty, "Additionally, any matters involving the League of Shadows are matters that are worth investigating thoroughly. Do you believe that they are aware of what you are?"
"A person?" Percy said bitterly, a wash of anger flowing over him.
"…My apologies, detective. That was rather crass of me."
Percy sighed, and rubbed tiredly at his eyes,
"It's fine. But I have no idea. Didn't even know that these people existed until today, so I have no clue if they know everything about me or not."
"A fair assessment," Alfred hummed, and Percy could hear something beep on his side of the line, "My apologies detective, but I must step away for now. Consider my offer and I will be in touch again shortly." Before Percy could say anything else, there was a click, and the line went dead.
"I hate my life."
BREAK
"Wait, Percy? Did I miss something?"
"Wait isn't that the guy who killed Klarion?"
"Oh the Bat ain't gonna be happy about this one."
Dinah knew she shouldn't have said anything, but they needed to have all the cards on the table here, and Percy was objectively too much of a wildcard for the League not to be aware of his presence on the island.
While the rest of the League had devolved into confused and excited muttering, Diana looked shockingly calm.
With a simple raise of her hand, the rest of the room fell silent, and Diana kept her eyes steadily glued to Dinah's.
"What is Perseus doing on the island?" She inquired,
"Not sure," Dinah shook her head, "All I know is what his partner told me. Apparently their station lieutenant, I think his name is Winston? He called Percy just after the call about the Joker went out. He told Percy that there was someone on the island that wanted to meet him, from what I gathered there was no one actually there."
"That's…distressing." Diana admitted, worrying at her lip in agitation.
"Jackson always did have a way of making enemies," Superman observed, and Diana rolled her eyes,
"Kal," She sighed, "We talked about this."
"I'm just saying!" The Man of Steel said defensively, "He has a habit of finding himself in situations he shouldn't be in."
"As is the unfortunate life of a demigod," Diana retorted, "Especially the son of one of the elder gods."
"Question," Flash interjected, raising a hand in the air, "Can't he, like, teleport?"
Diana snorted, "Certainly a…unique way of describing it. But in so many words, I suppose you could say that."
"Then why is he still on the island?" He looked around at his colleagues in confusion, "Why not just, I don't know, leave?"
"Because he's as stubborn as Batman." Dinah groused, and Diana chuckled,
"You are not wrong. But I fear that it goes beyond simply being stubborn." She walked over to the monitor, which was showing a still image of Percy that had been pulled form cameras on the island.
"He has pride, not debilitating to be sure, but he has it nonetheless. Someone is clearly trying to do him harm and he understands this. He is going to stay on the island and try and get to the bottom of who it is that is after him."
"Well that's great," Hal Jordan grumbled, "So now we have the Joker and a demigod running around the most dangerous prison in the country. That's just…perfect."
"So what are we supposed to do about it?" Hawkman asked,
"Nothing," Superman answered, though he looked far from pleased about it.
"Batman gave us a rather clear order in regards to the situation…and as much as it pains me to say this, he's usually right. For now, we continue to monitor the situation."
"And if Jackson decides to just cut loose?" John Stewart asked,
"He won't!" Both Diana and Dinah said hotly,
"We've all read the reports, this guy could probably sink that entire damn island into the sea if he wanted to. What's to stop him from doing that?"
"The fact that, in spite of my current agitation with the man, he's shown no signs of hostile intent in the entire time I've known him." Superman countered, though it looked like it pained him to admit it.
"I've worked closely with the detective, both as Clark and as Superman, and I can vouch for him. He won't do anything that jeopardizes the many civilians on that island."
"I still don't like it,"
Luckily he was interrupted by a sudden burst of static by a nearby monitor, as a familiar voice called through the radio,
"Batcave to Watchtower."
Superman pressed a button on his command terminal,
"Watchtower to Batcave, go ahead Alfred,"
"We have…a new development at Arkham."
"If this is about detective Jackson, we already know that he's-"
"R'as al Ghul was the one that sent him to the island."
The room fell silent at the sudden pronouncement, and The Flash summed up their thoughts rather eloquently,
"Well…shit."
AN: Things are getting spicy in Arkham! Oh man, you guys are in for some fun stuff the next couple of chapters, and I can't wait for you all to see them! Hope you've been enjoying the ride, and let me know what you think of the chapter and the story as a whole! As always shoutout to Double0Sxvxn for being an awesome Beta and dealing with my bullshit and as always if you enjoyed this but haven't checked out my other work, give them a try you never know you might find something else you like. I'm also on discord now, where I and a bunch of other writers hang out, chat and brainstorm ideas, you just have to copy the link that's in my profile bio if you want to come and hang out with us. Stay safe, stay healthy and have an awesome week.
All My Love and see soon,
LilDB
