"Boy, this place is still a dump," commented Joker, as he and Batman crept through the Ace Chemicals factory. "I don't remember what I was doing here when you pushed me into those chemicals, but I must have had a pretty good reason to make me set foot in a craphole like this."
"You were robbing the factory payroll," growled Batman.
"Was I?" asked Joker. "Or is that just what you told yourself after shoving an innocent guy into a vat of dangerous and toxic substances? You had to make up an excuse that would satisfy your conscience, and punishing a criminal is exactly the kind of self-righteous excuse your subconscious would think up."
Batman ignored him – he tried to concentrate on the moment and forget that night, so many years ago, when he had encountered the man who would become the Joker for the first time. He still remembered the man's horrified face as he had fallen backward, off the platform and into the bubbling green chemicals below.
"Despite what you might think…I did try to save you," murmured Batman, recalling how he had desperately reached out his hand, too late to catch the falling man.
"Yeah, where have I heard that before?" asked Joker. He snapped his fingers. "Oh, that's right! After you dropped the cure in Arkham City, condemning me to a slow and painful death! But sure, you would have saved me," he added, sarcastically. "You tell yourself whatever you need to cope, Batsy, for now. But trust me, I'm here deep in this mind of yours, and I know how you've always excused your bad deeds with noble excuses after the fact. But the truth is, sometimes you're just a bad guy. You just need to embrace those impulses without fear. That's what Uncle J is here for," he added, patting him on the shoulder.
"Speaking of fear," muttered Batman, as he landed on a beam above a vast chamber to see Scarecrow's shadow cast against the glass of the room below him. He was pressing buttons on a control panel that caused several substances to mix together in the tubes surrounding him. The sickening orange mixture bubbled horribly as the tubes filled up with it, and Batman could only guess at how much damage that substance would cause if it was released.
Batman looked around the empty chamber warily. "Why doesn't Scarecrow have any guards?" he muttered.
"Who cares – let's beat him," retorted Joker.
"It's probably a trap," said Batman.
"Uh, duh, this whole thing is a trap!" retorted Joker. "You were literally lured here by a message left by my kid! So let's spring the trap and find out what he wants!" he exclaimed, dragging Batman forward.
Batman felt himself losing his grip on the beam on which he was perched, like there was an invisible hand yanking him forward. He fell off the beam, and smashed through the glass into the room below.
"You just always have to go through the glass, don't you?" muttered Joker, glaring at Batman as he lay on the ground next to him. "I'm sure the door was open."
"The door was open," said Scarecrow, turning to face him with a smile on his face.
"There, y'see?" muttered Joker, as he and Batman both struggled to their feet, dusting the shards of glass off themselves.
"This ends now, Crane," muttered Batman, ignoring Joker to glare at Scarecrow. "You're going to stop building this bomb and come with me."
"Am I?" asked Scarecrow, folding his arms across his chest. "No, I don't think I am."
"That wasn't a request," said Batman, striding forward and seizing Scarecrow around the throat, lifting him off his feet.
"Squeeze nice and hard, Batsy!" chuckled Joker, eyes shining as he watched him. "He can't detonate any bomb if his neck's snapped!"
"Put the nerd down," said a filtered voice behind them. Batman looked over his shoulder to see a figure in a suit similar to his, pointing a gun straight at his head.
"Go ahead and shoot," muttered Batman. "My life doesn't matter."
"Maybe not," agreed the figure. "But theirs does."
He held up a device, and played a recorded clip of the recent conversation in the Batcave: I hear you, Barb – we're almost ready. Are you somewhere safe? The Clocktower. Don't worry about me, Tim. Even if Scarecrow launches a gas attack, I don't think it'll reach me all the way up here…
"Oooh, love it!" chuckled Joker, as Batman reluctantly released Scarecrow, turning to face the figure. "I hope he got me on that recording..."
"How did you hack my communications?" Batman demanded. "How do you know who I am?"
"Your little helpdesk on wheels might be pretty tech savvy, but I'm better," replied the figure. "That's not to say she's completely useless, and I understand why you keep her around – it's a pity thing after she was shot through the spine by a handsome young maniac. You feel guilty and responsible for her being crippled, so you give her a job beyond her abilities to make her feel better about herself. But like all decisions made by guilt, it ends in horrible consequences for everyone."
"I bet he's also a handsome young maniac, the spitting image of his Daddy!" chuckled Joker.
"Who are you?" demanded Batman.
"Oh, I think you know, Batsy," replied the figure. "A guy as smart as you should be able to put the puzzle together. But just call me the Arkham Night for now."
"The Arkham Night?" repeated Batman. "Is that meant to be some clever play on the Dark Knight?"
"Sorta," agreed the Arkham Night, shrugging. "It's also a clue to my identity, which I'm sure the World's Greatest Detective can figure out."
"If your quarrel is with me, then let's settle it," replied Batman. "But the citizens of Gotham are innocent, as are my associates. There's no need to drag them into this."
"Oh, but there is," replied the Arkham Night. "Family, like I said. You destroyed mine, so I destroy yours. That's justice."
"He's got you there, Bats," agreed Joker, nodding.
"Gotham is a city long overdue for a reckoning," said Scarecrow, who had straightened up, and now returned to mixing chemicals via the control panel. "A city that embraces vigilante justice and then wonders why crime is so rampant. It is beyond reform and beyond help. This modern day Sodom and Gomorrah deserves the fate of those cities – complete and utter annihilation. Once its citizens destroy each other in a frenzy of terror, we can repeat the experiment in other cities and see if something better will grow from the ashes. All in the interests of scientific study, of course."
"You can take the professor out of the school, but not the school out of the professor!" laughed the Arkham Night. "Fortunately Craney and my interests coincide – he wants mass terror for an educational purpose. I want it because it's fun. It'll be particularly fun watching you failing to stop it."
"I'll die trying," retorted Batman.
"Yes, you will!" chuckled the Arkham Night. "And so will many others. Your little family first."
He held up a device that projected a video onto the wall in front of them – it showed the inside of the Clocktower where Oracle sat in front of her computer. She didn't see the figure creeping up behind her until it was too late – a chloroformed rag was clapped over her mouth as she struggled uselessly against it. Batman watched in horror as she gradually stopped fighting, and was pulled out of her chair by Harley Quinn, who dragged her unconscious form out of the building.
"Nice move!" exclaimed Joker. "And Harley still looks foxy after all these years! That's good – she'll be so excited to see me again that she'll probably be all over us, and I know I'd prefer to be pawed by a hot chick."
"Tell her to let her go," growled Batman, turning to face the Arkham Night.
"Nope, nope nope, don't want to," said the Arkham Night, shaking his head. "I love games, you see, and I'd like to begin with a little game of hide and seek. I'm gonna hide her, and you're gonna seek, and there will be some fun surprises along the way. Starting with this one."
He held up his wrist communicator. "Harvey, Nygma, give the order for your armies to take to the streets. We need plenty of chaos out there to distract the little Bat brats. I don't want Batsy getting help from them – it's cheating."
Joker was giggling hysterically, his eyes shining in excitement, while Batman just glared at the Arkham Night. "You think you know how to manipulate me," he muttered. "But if you kill Oracle, you'll have nothing left to bait me with. So I know you won't kill her, because you won't want to lose your power over me."
"Hmm, simplistic psychological analysis, but not wrong," said the Arkham Night, shrugging. "You're right – that is the problem with a hostage situation. Which is why a smart person always has backup hostages, so you'll be sure to play ball."
"That's his mother's shrink training – God, I'm glad Harley didn't prove to be a useless waste of space after all!" sighed Joker.
"What backup hostages?" demanded Batman.
"Why, the people of Gotham City, of course," replied the Arkham Night. "You didn't think we were going to detonate this fear gas bomb now, did you?"
"We aren't?" asked Scarecrow, clearly surprised.
"Of course not," sighed the Arkham Night. "If we do that, there's nothing left for Batman to fight for. The city enveloped in fear toxin, and all its citizens killing each other in a flurry of terrified madness is the ultimate symbol of Batman's failure. So we have to save the best for last. Not until the fat lady sings, as the saying goes. Or in this case, until the crippled lady screams when Batman fails to save her, which he will. He'll lose one more person he loves, just like he lost his parents, and his girlfriend, and his arch nemesis. And once that final blow has been delivered, when there's no more hope left, that's when we flood the city with fear gas. It's the coup de grâce, and the final destruction of everything Batman stands for."
"But…the bomb is ready now," said Scarecrow, turning to the screen. "I'm not sure I can shut it down at this stage…"
"You can't," agreed Arkham Night, nodding. "But Batman can. So let's leave him to it! Toodles!" he said, waving at him as he headed for the door.
"But if we leave now and he shuts down the process, we won't be able to just restart it after he's been defeated!" protested Scarecrow. "And only Ace Chemicals has the facilities to build a bomb of this size – what if Batman blows it up in order to prevent us from making another one?"
"God, this is embarrassing," sighed Arkham Night, turning back. "To be questioned by the help. You really think I don't have a contingency plan, Crane? Why don't you just trust me? Would I lie to you?"
"Well, you have before…" began Scarecrow.
"I think huffing your gas has made you paranoid," interrupted Arkham Night. "Now come on. I'd like you to be a part of this attack, and I want Batman to experience your fear gas firsthand, but please don't make the mistake of thinking that you're the only person here who knows how to make people confront their darkest terrors. Anyway, you've got work to do elsewhere - you've got a new victim to test your fear gas on, after all. Mustn't keep the patient waiting, Doc!"
"Oh, that is definitely my kid!" chuckled Joker, as Scarecrow reluctantly followed Arkham Night out of the room. "He's got the Joker mind, the Joker grace and style, and the Joker sense of humor! And I'm so proud of him! He's got you completely over a barrel! This fear gas bomb, Oracle's abduction by Harley and probable torture by Scarecrow, an army attacking Gotham led by the old supervillain gang, and just you and your little brats to fight it! I can't see the Bat-family emerging triumphant from this one, especially since the head of the Bat-family has a Joker in his head!"
Batman said nothing, heading over to the control panel to try and shut down the process. But he didn't need to say anything. Joker was in his head, and that meant he knew that he couldn't see the Bat-family emerging triumphant from this one either.