"Did I ever tell you that your new suit looks ridiculous" taunted Catwoman as she rose to her feet.

Ignoring her words, he heard police sirens in the distance. This wasn't good. Catwoman was already back on her feet encircling him, waiting for her chance to strike at him with her razor-sharp claws like curved daggers. For a second, he seemed distracted by the approaching police cars. That second was enough to incur her wrath. She lunged at him and slashed his face in an upwards angle, trying to gouge out his eyes. His left eye was saved by his mask, which produced an electric shock of one thousand volts, enough to make Catwoman jump back and yell in pain. He took the oppurtunity to punch her In the face and wrap his arms around her slim body, using his own muscular body to tackle her to the ground. He repeatedly punched her in the face in anger. She could have gashed the rest of his body all she wanted. But his face? How would he explain that to any of his associates in his public life? He was shocked and angry and the only reason he stopped hitting Catwoman was because the police were closing in on him. A police car nearly hit them but swerved away at the last second, followed by three others. He picked up the tape from the ground and ran, down the street into the darkness of the night. A police car was in direct chase behind Batman and was closing in rapidly. He considered himself in peak physical condition but he also didn't know for how long he would be able to outrun a car. He had to think incredibly fast. He then remembered that Lucius had told him that his suit was utterly invisible in pitch black darkness. The only reason they had been able to see him was their headlights. He continued to run and simply jumped and rolled into an alley. The police car suddenly stopped when they lost sight of him.

Officer James Huntigan looked over at his partner, Clint Pembrook. "Well" he yelled, "Go get him! We get this guy, we'll be swimming in bonuses and promotion points!"

"Damn it" was Pembrooks' response as he got out of the car, firearm drawn. He wasn't alone, however as his partner quickly got on the radio.

"We got the bastard cornered" Huntington said into the dispatch. "We're just down the street, he jumped down some alley. Get your asses over here now!" Afterwards, Huntington followed his partner down the alley with his own firearm drawn. They warily entered the alley with flashlights drawn in there other hands, crossing the arm carrying their guns at their wrists, the way they were trained. They passed a dumpster, which they opened. They jumped as rat lunged past them to get away from the light. They continued, looking at every little corner. The alley, itself was a dead end. It was small, narrow and short and not really much of a hiding place. All it had was a dumpster. They sighed as Batman was nowhere to be found and their backup arrived.

"Great" Huntigan sighed with grief, "How are we going to explain to the Commissioner that we had Batman, then we suddenly lost him!"

Batman was long gone by the time they searched the alley. He was running along the rooftops. It was downtown, so the buildings were all rather closed together. He ran as fast as he could, seeing as the place where he had hidden the Batpod wasn't exactly safe right now. Every building that was too far to jump to, he used his powerful grappling wire to get to it. One time, the next building was really far away so when he shot the wire out to its roof and jumped he only made it to apartment builiding fourth story railing. He collided with metal, striking his chest and ribs against its side, knocking the breath from his diaphragm. The loud noise attracted a little girl to look outside her window.

"Batman" she murmured into the night, upon seeing him look up at her with a pained look in his eyes. He wheezed, attempting to recapture his breath. The girl's mother came for her, hearing the loud clanging outside their window as well.

"Stacy" her mother called out to her in her native Irish accent. "Get away from that window right now!" Hearing this, Batman quickly kicked off the railing, propelling himself towards the roof with great velocity. Stacy's mother didn't see it, but Stacy did. She grabbed her daughter by the shoulders and hugged her, turning her away from the window. She stroked Stacy's long, blonde hair as she looked out the window, seeing nothing, but the empty and uncharacteristically quiet night. She pulled Stacy tighter to her, eyes closed.

"Mother" Stacy called out, "We're going to be okay. Batman is here."

"Oh, Stacy" she cried, believing her daughter meant that Batman being in Gotham was what she meant, "Come on, darling, let's go to bed!" She pulled Stacy away lovingly by the hand. Stacy went willingly but couldn't take her eyes off the window.

Batman took a minute to rest on the roof and catch his breath. He clutched at his midsection which felt caved in. He was bleeding from the left side of his face and the blood was smearing all over his face. He would have to move again, quickly. He was still the most wanted man in Gotham and he was sure they would send helicopters for him soon. Why had Catwoman been at the police station? He would worry about this later, but it was stiil a question he wanted answered.

Commissioner Gordon wasn't happy with the situation. Both Batman and the Ballard Hall Thief were nowhere to be found. They were back in front of the police station, where officers were looking to check the station.

"We had him, Commissioner" Huntigan assured Gordon, outside. "We would have gotten him if back up had arrived sooner. He just disappeared."

"Don't talk like you did something special" Gordon tiraded against him. "What do you want? A medal? For what? For almost catching Batman?!"

Huntigan was taken aback. "I-I'm sorry, Commissioner…"

"Let's get one thing straight" Gordon continued, "You were no closer to catching Batman than I was as a Detective nor when my personal unit and I attempted to, a month ago." He then closed the distance on the helpless officer to spout his last insult, for effect. "And you're not even half the cop any of them are."

With that, Deputy Commissioner Allan Spokes, who was speaking to reporter Vicki Vale from Channel 13 news, called out, "Commissioner!" Sensing he had gone too far, he walked off to tell the reporters no comment on tonight's events.

Agents Flanagan and Montoya took a left down Wanda Avenue. Montoya made a pitch-perfect cat's meow that rang through the deserted street. Five seconds later, someone darted towards the car in the night and got into the backseat of the car. Satisfied, they pulled away.

"He really did a number on me tonight" Catwoman admitted to them, tearing away her stealth suit, with grunts and moans, before taking off her mask. "I can barely walk right now. If I didn't have Holly, I would say take me to a hospital. I mean, I'm bleeding!"

"Oh, stop being so dramatic" Montoya said, without looking at her. "You lived. Batman's a known killer, remember?"

Catwoman reached into her stealth suit and removed a cigarette and lighter. "Uhh" she said, "no, he's not."

"What" Flanagan asked, in surprise, as he drove.

"I've dealt with enough killers to know one when I fight one" she explained, lighting and smoking a cigarette. "He's angry, incredibly skilled, but not a killer. He had a chance to kill me tonight but he didn't. Even if that oppurtunity hadn't come up, though, I would have still known. I can see through him."

"Did I tell you you could smoke in my car" Flanagan asked.

"He may have let that lunatic clown live, but what about Dent" Montoya asked.

Catwoman shrugged. "Maybe it was on accident" she suggested, smoking some more.

"Those cops too" Montoya asked, "I don't believe it. I refuse to."

"Don't forget about the thugs" Catwoman added.

"I don't care about gutter trash" Montoya answered.

Catwoman blew some smoke from her nostrils and pursed her lips. "Don't forget where you found me" she said.

"Don't remind me" Montoya said with a chuckle and then with a slight turn towards her, she said, "Don't you forget you could always go back." Catwoman gave her a look of murderous rage. She was two seconds from cutting out her throat.

"Now, now ladies" Flanagan soothed, "We aren't supposed to fight each other. Now, Batman isn't our only issue. Catwoman, what's your status on your boss?"

"Victoria" Catwoman asked, "So dirty. She won't be hard at all to take down. She deals coke to all of her models and she has her money invested in something big. I don't know what it is, yet. It won't be too hard to find out. I suggest you guys hold off until I can get to her books."

"That's good to hear" Flangan commented.

Catwoman exhaled more smoke and said, "But, seriously, why are you worried about her? Batman isn't Gotham's biggest problem, either. Gotham is starting to look like it did when the dinosaurs were around." To emphasize her point, they passed a crumbled structure of what used to be City Hall, which was now titan of a tree which indeed remind them of something out of Jurassic Park.

"See" Catwoman asked.

"That is a strange problem" Flanagan observed. "Expect to hear about the president calling a Stat e of Emergency first thing tomorrow. Also, expect the National Guard to kindly suggest that the citizens of Gotham evacuate the city. They are sending in experts to reverse what's being done with Gotham's newfound vegetation and teams to find the terrorists responsible."

"Will our current operation be affected in any way" wondered Catwoman.

Looking upwards at the mirror, to see her face, Flanagan said with a smile, "Not in the slightest bit."

Catwoman laughed gleefully at the sound of that and purred, then roared playfully before taking another inhale of her cigarette.

Bruce Wayne was back in his condo, where Alfred was sterilizing his facial gash with alcohol, peroxide and cotton pads. Bruce hissed from the burning pain.

"I think I'm going to have to take off days for this one, Alfred" he said.

"Oh, now you want to take off days" Alfred replied with a smile, never stopping. He finished cleaning his wound and reached for the needle and thread from his surgical tray. "I think you should stop tangling with this Catwoman, sir. That's what you should do."

"I couldn't help it, Alfred" he complained. "She was just there!" He hissed again when Alfred pushed his wound together and poked the threaded needle into his flesh.

"You really have a handle on this, Alfred" Bruce asked through clenched teeth.

Working at quick speed, but stopping look at Bruce in disbelief, "Sir, let me give you some advice. I spent twelve years in the British Special Forces as a damn medic. I've dealt with punctured skulls, missing limbs, fratcured spines, broken bones, bullet wounds, knife wounds, and one time I helped a man with chronic diarrhea. Don't ask me about that one. Never insult a man who is giving you medical attention, as barbaric as it might be." With that, Alfred went back to work, stitching Bruce Wayne's face back together.

"Oooookaaaaaaay" murmered Bruce, "No more questions."

"No more talking at all, sir" Alfred said, without looking up. "Please."

Bruce didn't talk again until Alfred was finished.

Selina Kyle opened the door to her condo, using her key and upon hearing the welcome sounds of her nine cats, smiled as she plopped down on her couch. She hissed and moaned from the sudden movement, as her entire body hurt from the night's events. The cats gathered around her and happily rubbed as many of them as she could get her hands on, welcoming their soothing purrs.

Then, the lights suddenly turned on. Selina looked up from the couch and saw Holly Robinson, her good friend, standing in the kitchen, not looking very happy at all. Holly Robinson was her good friend and partner. She was very intelligent and specialized in dealing with the body. She wasn't exactly a medic but she knew enough about the human anatomy to be just as if not more effective as one. She wore glasses which did little to hide a naturally pretty face. She had a slender frame that hid a strong core and strength that many in her same field lacked. She was extremely particular in everything she liked, including food and friends, so Selina Kyle was in a very small club of people who could call her a friend. She had short, red, spiky hair that didn't extend past mid-neck. She wore a green, Victoria's Secret robe and green, bunny house slippers.

"You really should have called first, you know" Holly said, pushing her glasses towards the bridge of her nose. "You almost ended up with four bullets in your head, just now."

"Holly" Selina said, "I need your help. I'm in pain. Batman really gave it to me tonight."

Holly turned her head at Selina. "I thought that was what you wanted?"

"Not like that, you freak" Selina said, in disgust. "Damn it, Holly! I really am in pain! Now that I'm lying here, I can't get up! Just come look at me! Help me!"

Holly sighed and rolled her eyes. "You really are a baby" she moaned. "Okay, I'll see what's wrong with you." She uncrossed her arms and walked into the living room, towards the couch. "What the hell's wrong with you" she wondered, "you're still wearing your stealth suit!"

Bruce's face was stitched now, and he was in the living room of his condo, watching the news. He was opening the envelope, which contained the terrorist's demands. He found a black cassette case and pried it open. He expected to find a black tape, only to have a pile of tiny diamonds, and a larger diamond, almost as big as his fist tumble out at his feet. He was confused, and reached down for the large diamond, turning it over in his palm. It was clean, diamond-cut to perfection. Everything that happened tonight, he thought. What I went through, it was for this? He suddenly realized one of two things could have happened: Either Catwoman had switched the diamonds with the tape, which was very unlikely as he had been fighting her the entire time and the only time he had left her alone, he had the package. The other option was that Gordon had betrayed him and there was never any tape to begin with. Now Batman was a killer and a thief.

"And in our next story" said Vicki Vale on the TV, "Batman:Murderer, Vigilante, Jewel thief?"

Bruce didn't even want to hear anymore. He grew so angry that he flung the diamond into his glass table, shattering the glass. He then picked up the glass table, lifting it above his head and throwing its frame at his TV on the wall. The TV was knocked off the wall and broke on the floor, clattering next to his table frame. The noise brought Alfred to the living room.

"What the bloody hell" Alfred, shouted before seeing what had happened. He then looked at Bruce, who was half-turned to him. "Master Bruce" Alfred said, lowly, "your face…"

Bruce hadn't noticed the small stream of blood that was running down the left side of his face. He touched it and saw blood on his fingers. Three of his stitches had come undone and blood now oozed from the wound.

"Don't worry about me, Alfred…" he said, absently.

"But, sir" Alfred began, before Bruce cut him off.

"Don't worry about the mess, either" Bruce said, "I'll clean it. I just need to lie down for a little while. It's been a very long night." Bruce walked past Alfred to his bedroom.

Bruce Wayne clean a mess, Alfred thought of the words, Not very likely.

The next day, at nine in the morning, a press conference was held. Mayor Garcia had called it. The attendance included Commissioner Gordon and the president himself, Barack Obama.

"As you know" Garcia said, "this city has had to deal with more than any other city has had to deal with, lately. I do not even need to mention some of these things now. For a week, now, we have been plagued by terrorism in its most bizarre and devastating form! Just turn your eyes behind me!"

Garcia had chosen, at the protest of his advisors, to give his speech in front of the vine and greenery-infested city hall, with a giant tree growing out of its devastated roof. The people who attended could not pretend this was not happening and would face the truth, unlike what they did when the Joker came through town.

Alfred did not think this was a particularly good idea, yet as a rare moment, he didn't tell Bruce Wayne. Bruce was determined this morning to get to the bottom of everything, mainly the terrorist attacks. He had reason to believe that Dr. Heather Allister, a researcher on Project GENESIS, is connected to all of this, if not directly then some other way. As Alfred waited by the car below, Bruce had gone to her apartment door and knocked. After a minute and knocking at her door, the door unlocked and pulled half-open. Part of Allister's rat-like face appeared in the doorway.

"Yes" she said, cautiously, like an animal afraid to get hurt.

Bruce Wayne removed his sunglasses and said, "Dr. Heather Allister. I'm Bruce Wayne. I believe we've met. I would like to ask you a couple of questions if you wouldn't mind. Can I come in?"

She clicked her tounge, seeming to think it over for a second, before stepping from the doorway and opening it. "Yeah, sure. Why not? I mean, really? Bruce Wayne at my place? I never would have thought…". He walked past her into her apartment.

"You're dressed real snazzy today" she said, checking out his suit. "Uh, Mr. Wayne, what happened to your face?"

She closed the door, as he looked around her living room with his hands in his pockets. "Don't worry about my face" he said simply.

"Ooookaaaay" she replied, taken aback.

"As of now, Gotham is in a state of emergency" explained Mayor Garcia. "The National Guard has deployed here and we will evacuate as many people as we can today! Rest assured that the terrorist situation is being handled! I assure you, by two days' end, these culprits will be apprehended to answer to their crimes against you or worse!" This incited roaring applause from the gathered crowd and media. President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama were among those applauding.

"I couldn't have said it better myself" the president told his wife, over the crowd.

"I wondered if I should really let you in" Allister told him as she laid a glass of water on the glass banister in front of him. "There you go, you must be thirsty. Anyway, then I thought, 'hell, you're my boss. Hell, you're everybody's boss! If you tracked me down, you must have had something important about my job! Or GENESIS!" She was slightly pretty with shoulder-length blonde hair. She was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and blue jeans, along with flip-flops. She also wore silver studs in her ears in the form of a cross. "As you can tell" she explained. "I'm off today. I'm not much use to Wayne Enterprises if Project GENESIS is shut down, according to Lucius Fox."

"That's what he said" Bruce asked, rubbing his hands together.

"More or less" she said, leaning back on her loveseat. "Why don't you drink some of that water" she asked, nodding in the direction of his glass. "You don't look well, ."

Bruce looked at it. Ever since Dr. Crane and the League of Shadows had poisoned the city's water supply, Bruce had been wary of tap water. Instead he had been more inclined to drink bottled water. "Um" he said, "Do you have bottled water, like Aquafina?"

She smiled as she rose to her feet. "As a matter of fact" she said with glee. "I do. Fiji Water?"

Bruce waved it off and said, "That's fine."

With that, Heather Allister went to her kitchen to fetch her boss a bottle of Fiji Water. Unbeknownst to Bruce, she also pulled out a medicine dropper contained a solution which in turned, contained the cells of a long-thought extinct vine tree. She quietly opened the cap of his water on the counter.

"So, are you religious" Bruce asked, from the living room.

"What, you mean my earrings" Allister asked, dropping the solution carefully into the water bottle. "Oh God, no. I don't buy into the whole faith bullshit. But, I do believe in God. I believe mankind used to be better than what we are now. We used to be pure, but were corrupted. Now, God has turned a blind eye to us. Sometimes, I wonder if anybody goes to Heaven."

She put the cap back on Bruce's water bottle and pocketed the empty medicine dropper, then turned to take the water to Bruce.

"The crosses" she said, as she walked over and sat the Fiji water in front of him, "I wear them because they remind me that there's a heaven at all."

Mayor Garcia took a break in his speech to take a sip of water from his water bottle that was on his podium. He swallowed and continued, "Furthermore…" He was interrupted by an ominous ringing in his ears that was maddenly loud. It was inside his brain and blood poured from his ears. He grunted as a one of his deputies grabbed him. Suddenly, an intense pain surged through his gut and he doubled over, grunting in pain. A crowd of deputies and police crowded the mayor and guided him away from the stage and media circus that was quickly forming. President Obama realized that as he was led away by secret servicemen that a sense of euphoria washed over him and he felt better than he has ever felt in his life. He wasn't registering much of anything anymore.

"Dr. Allister" Bruce said, "Dr. Stowalters has implicated you in the attack on her and her lab."

"What" Allister exclaimed. "Are you serious!? I performed just as much if not more research than her! I would be destroying my own work!"

"Dr. Stowalters said that all of the documents and Alpha Vector, along with all of its prototypes was stolen."

"Mr. Wayne, I am very glad that Dr. Stowalters survived her ordeal, but she is delusional. I was here, celebrating our successful experiments with my boyfriend. I mean, come on, no police have been around. Dr. Stowalters apparently doesn't think her claims are valid enough to talk to a cop."

"Dr. Victor Naughton, isn't it? Your boyfriend, I mean."

Dr. Heather Allister crossed her arms and gave Bruce a certain look. He was getting to her."I'm not sure I like this questioning. What exactly are you getting at?"

"I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this" he offered.

"Since when did you care, anyway" she wondered. "Oh, I see. When there was potential for your pockets to fatten, there really wasn't any need for your attention. Now, that something goes wrong, you're concerned. Don't you have a thousand other projects to pick up the slack?"

"Damn it, Heather" Bruce yelled. "Pay attention! Gotham is being torn apart! People are dying! This isn't like the others! What's the use of a machine that can heal any sickness or injury if its being used for evil!?"

She shrugged and stood. "I don't know what to tell you, Mr. Wayne. I wasn't there. I have no idea what you're talking about. I hear the city's being evacuated. I think I'm going to visit my sister in Bludhaven. You should think about leaving too."
"No" Bruce said, "My father wouldn't have abandoned Gotham. I won't abandon it."

She nodded slowly at that. "I have to make a phone call. Excuse me for a moment."

He stood, not touching his water bottle. "I'll just be leaving. Sorry for wasting your time."

"Don't worry about it" she said. "Aren't you going to take the water?"

"Uh, no" he told her, looking warily at the Fiji Water and shaking his head. "I'll just pick something up."

With that, he went to the door and said, "Thanks anyway. Bye." He then left. Heather shook her head in disbelief, before taking the bottle of Fiji Water and placing it back in the refrigerator with the others. She then went to her bedroom to make her phone call on the house phone. Maybe she had pushed it a little too much with the water. Oh well, even if he suspected her. He wasn't a cop. She didn't worry about him. She only wanted to kill him because he was a profiteer and he annoyed her. Bruce Wayne was worried about her actions with the Alpha Vector, was he? Well, he would probably die of guilt if he found out he was an unwitting benefactor of her operations. Money, it was all he was good for. She called Carla Yang, a willing benefactor of her operations.

"Yang, you wouldn't believe who stopped by my apartment, just now" Allister said.

"Who" Yang asked.

"Bruce Wayne. Why couldn't I just kill him the traditional way? He knows about me."

"He suspects."

"No, woman, you're not listening to me. He knows. He didn't drink the water. He was asking suspicious questions. Who knew? Of all people, Bruce Wayne is the one to find out about me. I knew I should have just stabbed that bitch Stowalters."

"Heather, you know we are not killers."

"We. You haven't participated in any of our operations. In fact, now that my plans are underway, I really don't need you. Do I?

"Heather, slow down."

"You might want to evacuate with the rest of the city, Carla. I mean, like right now. Because if you don't, you're likely to find a bullet in your head or worse. The mayor should already be dead and you're next."

"Heather…"

Allister hung up after that and went to her window. She grabbed her two miniature globes she liked to roll in her hands, as they were her version of a stress ball. They calmed her down and allowed her to think. She watched from the window as Alfred, Bruce Wayne's butler and caretaker opened the door for him, allowing him to get in. She rolled the globes over each other with a slow, relaxing speed. It reminded her that everything was under control and in her hands.

"You smug, scar-faced bastard" she said aloud, referring to Bruce Wayne. "After my rivals are out of the way, its your turn to die." Alfred drove away.

"The mayor's dead" Bruce Wayne told Ramona Stowalters, who was still confined to her hospital bed, "and Dr. Allister claims she had nothing to do with anything."

"Mr. Wayne, Bruce" Stowalters stammered, "She's lying!"

"Sure she is" Bruce said, evenly. "but what if she isn't. I mean, she had a point. Technically, that project and research was almost as much as her's as your's."

She shook her head violently, frustrated. "I can't take this" she growled. "Look, I know what I know! She hurt me! She gave me eight broken bones and fractures! Then, she stole my creation! Damn it, she's using it to kill people! Why would I lie!? Where am I right now?! Delusional?! I know what the hell I'm saying!"

"I believe you, Ramona" Bruce said, lowly. "It's just… why didn't you go to the cops?"

"GENESIS was a top secret project" she said. "Do we really need the police involved when we have Batman?"

He was surprised by what she said. "Batman" he said, "isn't he a wanted man?"

"Yes" she replied, "unrightfully so, I can imagine. He was likely framed for those murders. Batman never killed anybody before that night, and never again after that night. Do you really believe a man who would spare the life of hardened criminals and a murdering psychopath, would actually kill a district attorney and a cop?"

It was his night again. A large number of Gotham citizens had been evacuated today. They left on ferries, bridges and planes. The wind, along with its whispers and cries was much more noticeable now. He was Batman as he stood on the roof across from the police station, in the captain's office window, was Commissioner Gordon typing away at the computer. Gordon's office was out of use, as it was currently preoccupied by ancient vines reinvigorated. He wanted to get to the bottom of Gordon's possible betrayal and wanted to know the truth.

Seconds later, something crashed through Gordon's window. Gordon looked up from his desk to see a scar-faced Batman looking back at him, standing on top of his paperwork. He wearing his all-black costume again and he didn't look pleased. Batman heard cops coming for the door. Batman got down and pulled the desk toward the door, barging it closed.

"Batman" Gordon yelled out, just before Batman grabbed him by his collar and flung him from the chair across the room. The police were banging on the door, trying to push past it. Batman extracted some of his grappling wire from his wrist and wrapped it around the door knob and extended it, tying it off at the bolted down heater across the room from the door. Batman turned his attention back on Gordon, who was turned over and training a weapon on him. Batman quickly ran and kicked the firearm from his hand, sending it tumbling away. He then punched Gordon in the face and lifted him to his feet.

"There never was any tape" Batman yelled, "was there?!"

"Batman" Gordon pleaded, out of breath, "please!"

"Answer me" Batman shouted, "Damn you!"

"No" Gordon admitted, "there was never any tape!". At that, Batman flung him backwards into the filing cabinets behind Gordon, who banged the back of his head against the steel frame. Gordon slumped to the ground.

"Commissioner" a cop outside yelled, "what's going on?! Let us in!"

"Why did you betray me" Batman demanded to know. "Why did you betray justice! You know what I stand for! Yet, you lied to me and made me into an actual criminal! I will never forgive you!"

"They threatened my wife" Gordon shouted, trying to gather himself. "They threatened my daughter! They threatened my son! They threatened my career! The night outside Ballard Hall! Remember that night?! They saw us together!"

"Who" demanded Batman.

"Two agents" Gordon said, choking as he crawled to his knees, "Flanagan and Montoya. When I first met them, they introduced themselves as FBI. They had licenses, proper jurisdiction, everything. They're not FBI."

"Then, what the hell are they" Batman asked.

"I don't know" Gordon admitted. "Some kind of black-op, government-sponsored police unit or something like it. These guys go to extreme means. That Catwoman you keep facing, probably gave you that scar. She's one of them. You're one of their main targets, along with the terrorist cell and somebody else."

"And you sold me to them for your own well-being" Batman said. "The one cop in this city that I truly trust turns out to be just as selfish as the rest of them. Tell me why I'm not surprised."

"Go to hell, Batman" Gordon said, looking up now, "you don't know what its like…"

Batman became so enraged at those words. He had lost two parents in a brutal killing long ago. He deatl with rigourous hardship all over the world, punishing himself for someone else's sins. He sacrificed his mind and his body to the first ideal he could believe in, and destroyed it. He had sacrificed any possible attempt at a normal, satisfying life when he donned the cape and cowl. He had been shot, stabbed, beaten and scarred in the name of this city that was falling apart as he was helpless to stop it. He had made a name for himself as the terror of the night and the streets, while a beacon of justice and light to the just. He had sacrificed his newly gained legacy to save the legacy of someone who had truly fallen to darkness. Gordon hadn't lost anything, not yet. He didn't know what it was like.

With that, Batman threw a crunching straight into Gordon's lower jaw, cracking his head to the side and knocking him unconscious. Still steaming, Batman restrained himself to go to the window sill. He shot a blade from a slicer gun, manufactured by Lucius Fox, at the grappling wire, severing it. The police were able to push themselves past the desk, where they found Gordon, crumpled in the corner and an otherwise empty room.

Batman had a monster growing inside of him. He could feel it. He had to release it or purge it somehow, or it would destroy him and others close to him. He was at the construction site where Wayne Manor was being rebuilt. Alfred was right. It was looking just like he remembered it was. It also had a few new additions. He stood perched on a rare goblin statue from Italy. It supported his weight evenly. Lightning slashed across the sky. The wind picked up to a torrendous pace, causing his cape to flutter, wildly in the wind. Thunder roared in the night like a lion finding its mate for life. The rain was pouring down, like a monsoon. Batman didn't care. It put out the fire that brewing in his heart now. It drenched his stitches and he would need them redone, but he didn't care. He stood on the roof of his family's legacy, looking out into the night sky, wondering if maybe there was somebody somewhere else looking at the same sky from the other side that had things better off than him.