He had thought it was going to be simple. After the rockets launched onto the streets, he and Spoiler would take cover on a roof and regroup. Simple, right? There was just one teeny tiny problem: the guys on the roofs were expecting him.
Bullets whizzed by the pair of teen vigilantes, Red Robin doing his best to make sure A, neither of them were hit, and B, to keep them both up in the air. Spoiler was doing her best to hang on for dear life because, yeah, her life kinda depended on it.
Of course, naturally, when the bullets weren't meeting their marks, out come a few more rocket launchers. Seriously, where did these guys find those things? At this rate, they were going to have to land far away from this war zone and that was something he didn't want to do. Damn, he had spent too much time getting backup from people who could get to him in either a blink of an eye, or take out the guys down below while they were distracted with him. Nope, just mere mortals here.
"Hey Oracle, Spoiler and I could use some back up. We're in a game of air raid and I don't think we're winning," he spoke into his earpiece through gritted teeth. Spoiler's arms wrapped tightly around his neck and one shoulder, but it was making it a little tough to get the right amount of air he needed.
"Where the...I see you. Looks like Bane wanted the high ground too."
Very encouraging.
"Where are the others?" he demanded.
"I'm getting someone on the way, just keep yourselves alive."
Easy for you to say. Hey, wait a sec, the shooting died down. Had he gone up high enough that they couldn't target him? Nah, couldn't be. He was still within range, so what was with the ceasefire?
"TSSSSEEEEERRR!"
"Gah!"
A bird of all things came swooping through the air, leading with its talons wide open. Immediately, Red Robin went into a barrel roll, avoiding the screaming bird as it zoomed right where he had previously been.
Where the hell did that bird come from?! It was practically a brown blur and had it not been for that scream, Red Robin would not have been able to spin the two of them around to dodge those sharp talons.
Frantically, the masked teen tried to find it again, not wanting to lose sight of it. The dark night sky really made that difficult, and only with a few seconds remaining did he find it again, the avian coming for another go.
Jerking to a side at the last moment, Red Robin just barely dodged the bird's attack, the feathers from the bird's wing almost grazed the side of his face. Great, just what they needed, the animal kingdom was coming after them too.
"What's that thing's deal?!" Spoiler exclaimed, squirming and making it harder for him to keep both of them aloft.
"Don't know, but we need to find cover, fast." Looking over his shoulder, Red Robin hardened his facial features. "I'm gonna need you to try and make yourself as small as possible. I'm about to do something really stupid."
He could feel the look she was giving him, but right now they didn't have any other option. Unless she had a better idea, then he would be all ears to hear it.
He flipped them up so that his back was facing the buildings and streets below, Spoiler blocked from sight by both his body and wing-like cape. Then he began decreasing altitude rapidly, bringing the two down to the buildings quickly. He could hear the sounds of gunfire starting up against, bullets whizzing past the two of them once more.
He heard the sounds of something striking the cape, and what a time to find out it was bulletproof. He already had an idea it could, what with testing it out with the powers of his teammates back in Jump. From energy blasts, and fists clad in mystical metal, this cape had taken a lot of punishment. So yeah, he wasn't exactly going into this blind.
There was an agony to it, not knowing how close he was to the actual rooftops. Every second that passed was another that they hadn't crashed yet. It was both relieving and heart pounding at the same time. A sign that they were getting close was that the gunfire was getting louder and louder and louder—
Loud clang-like clunks struck directly against the cape, dead-center. They were rapid and only becoming more and more accurate by the microsecond.
"¡Mierda!"
And they were hitting something, or more likely someone. Red Robin's body jostled and then Spoiler's was gone. For a few seconds, the masked teen's body was stunned, which was not good. Maybe someone up above was looking out for him because no bullets came near him. Forcing his body into action, he rolled off of the mercenary he had landed on top of, and seemingly crushed, making sure to cover as much of his body with his cape while crouching low to the roof.
He spotted Spoiler on her stomach, the girl giving a groan. Quickly, he dashed over to cover her with himself, since he was the one with the bulletproof cape, all the while searching for the next threat.
And again, that bird scream. He ducked his head down as low as he could, feeling the air from the wing flaps as the feathered menace tried to claw and tear at him. Where does this thing come from? Well, let's see how it likes this.
Slipping a hand to his utility belt, he pulled out a pellet and threw it as best as he could over his head given his current awkward position. There was a crackling noise, followed by several rapid-sounded pops, and then an angry squawk. That sounded like the bird was flapping away.
Right now, he expected for the gunfire to resume, and waited a bit. There was...nothing? Alright, he would give it a couple seconds.
Aaaand still nothing. Now he was feeling brave—ahem, suicidal—and peeked his head around his cape. To his surprise, he found no one in sight, outside of the guy he and Spoiler had taken out. Where was everyone else? Sure there was still the gunfire from the streets, but none of those were a threat right now.
What was going on?
"Um…"
Looking down, he found Spoiler was looking over her shoulder and up at him. Thanks to the cloth she wore around her mouth, all he could see of her discomfort was her eyes.
"Do you mind...you know...getting off of me?"
Now there was another awkwardness.
"We have a problem, guys."
Those were not words Black Canary wanted to hear.
Pushing the button to the comm link, the blonde vigilante replied, "What's going on, O?"
"Bane's forces, they've brought bazookas," the hacker immediately responded. "The Batclan has been separated."
Oh shit. That was not good news—the bazookas, or the Batclan's separation. The fact they didn't know Bane had that kind of firepower was a mistake on their part. Instead of throwing themselves into this gang war, they should have scouted things out, find out how many men each side had, what kind of heat they were packing—just some sort of intelligence.
"What was their last known location?" Black Canary asked as she began walking, heading back the way she and Green Arrow had come. That way, by the way, was littered with unconscious mercenaries. They had run out of Italians and found a swarm of Bane's men, the men currently enjoying dirt naps.
"Outside, south side. From what I can gather Red Robin and Spoiler are on the rooftops, dodging gunfire. I see...two in the streets, the other guys. I can't find Bluebird. She's not showing up on any of the cameras."
"Let the others know," Canary ordered. "Arrow and I are on our way."
Bluebird pressed her back against the wall, holding her taser gun at the ready.
When she had started this journey of hers to become one of Gotham's vigilantes, she had never thought she'd be here, right on the front lines. Maybe further down the line perhaps, but not this early in her career. She had figured she would've worked on a lot of cases by now, even doing some leg work for Batman himself.
Instead she was here, picking off mobsters and mercenaries alike. She was on her own too, something she was pretty sure was giving Nightwing a heart attack. That couldn't be helped, especially with rockets being fired at them. She had no idea where the others were, but she was damn certain about their objective. She'd take out as many of these bastards as she could.
Edging towards the corner, Bluebird took a deep breath before she spun around it, pointing her taser gun down the hall in front of her. She saw no one, which left her standing there for a moment. Sure no one was coming, she turned her head around, seeing a small hallway that abruptly ended at a boarded up window.
No one was in front, no one behind; time to push forward. Walking down the corridor, the blue-haired vigilante soon reached an intersecting hallway and again pushed her back up against the wall, the corner mere inches away. With a deep breath, she shot around the corner, training the taser gun in front of her.
And abrupt went cold inside.
Lying on the floor were the bodies of men, their blood spattered on the walls, most of it pooling on the floor. One body had been decapitated, its head—oh God, the head was right by her foot! Jumping back from it, Bluebird began frantically looking all over the corridor for whoever had done this. Surely they couldn't have gotten very far.
There was a tremble in her arm, causing it to rattle her weapon. This wasn't the first time she had seen a dead body, or multiple for that matter. She lived in a bad neighborhood for all of her life, so that was damn near normal.
But those people were shot, stabbed, or beaten with bricks. None had been sliced or diced like these guys. Bluebird squinted her eyes as she got a closer look at them. Oh Jesus, these were Bane's guys. These were trained killers.
And there was someone out there better trained and deadlier than they were.
That's when she felt it; there was a presence behind her. Bluebird froze on the spot, resisting the urge to stiffen her body. This had to be the person responsible for this. They were right behind her. The next second would determine if she lived or died.
Rock and roll.
Finger firmly against the trigger, Bluebird spun on her heels, leaning backwards in case her target here took a swipe at her with a knife, or sword, or whatever really sharp object they had. Her taser gun swung through the air, pointing dead ahead, her finger pulling on the trigger.
Katana caught the barrel of the stun gun and pushed it to aside, an electrical blast firing out and striking the wall, singing the sheetrock black.
"Jesus Christ!" Bluebird exclaimed as she backed up a couple steps, heart pounding in her chest. "I almost cooked you alive!"
Katana stared at her for a moment, but that was all the response she gave. Instead, her head tilted slightly before she seemed to glide across the floor, moving around the younger girl and came to kneel next to one of the bodies.
The older woman pressed a hand to the body's shoulder, pushing against it so that she could get a look at one of the wounds on it. "This was caused by a sword," she spoke, eyes narrowing.
"How do…" Bluebird began to ask before she stopped herself. Of course Katana would know what a sword wound looked like; she made them all the time with hers. That thought made her blue-clad girl blink her eyes owlishly as another thought occurred to her. While she knew Katana was good with her sword, surely she knew how to use it to kill someone. Was it possible that she knew how those wounds were caused not because she knew what they looked like, but because she had made them?
"Did you do this?" she asked, her voice a whisper.
If Katana was taken back by the question, she didn't show it. She merely shook her head in the negative. "I did not." She then leaned her head closer to the body, running her finger along the side of a cut. She then held the finger up to her face as she seemed to study it, going so far as to press her finger and thumb together and rub them against each other. "Whoever did though, they coated their swords with poison. I can feel the residue of poisoned tissue."
"Mind running that by me? You know, out of professional curiosity."
"Poison infects the body, including the skin," the red-and-yellow-clad woman told her as she stood up. "The cells are destroyed, which leaves them more like a paste-like substance."
Well, that was good to know. "Do you think they're close by?" she questioned, feeling her unease return.
"Possibly, but these wounds are fresh. Minutes, possibly ten or so ago. You will stay with me until we finish this."
Those words made Bluebird feel a hundred times better. Though she was confident in her abilities and tech, having someone as experienced as Katana watcher her back was insurance like none other. Nightwing knew his stuff, but it was Katana she had first seen in action and it was clear she knew what she was doing.
Besides, she was pretty sure he would agree with hanging around a Bird.
The knife raced through the air on a collision course with Manhunter's face. It was implausibly fast and made the distance between her and it vanish in span of a heartbeat.
It was pure instinct that allowed Manhunter to twist her wrist and swing an end of her bo staff up, the knife colliding with it an instant later, the tip embedding itself into the weapon. It wasn't the only one either as their were three other daggers sticking out of the staff, two at the opposite end and one closer to the vigilante's hand.
The moment the brunette moved the staff out from her face, her eyes widened even as she jerked to a side. Zombie had appeared right in front of her, stabbing at her face with another of his daggers. The blade passed right by her head by centimeters.
However, if she wanted to counter the thrust, she didn't even try. Instead, she bolted back several steps, even as Zombie gave chase. She had learned early on that the bald man was a damn master with knives, whether that was throwing them, or using them in close combat. Some strands of her hair lay somewhere on the floor from a surprised side slash following a stab to her chest.
It didn't even seem to matter that she was the one with the weapon with the longer reach. You would think that she could keep out of Zombie's blood circle—the area within the man's reach, knife included—with her staff, but no, the guy seemed unfazed by her attempts, always worming his way up close and personal.
Case in point: as Zombie drew his knife back, preparing for another attack, Manhunter suddenly dropped down into a crouch, swiping her staff low to knock the man's feet out from under him. Without hesitation, the bald man shot a foot up and blocked the low sweep with the bottom of his foot. Using his momentum, he turned his block into a stepping motion, using the staff to boost him up into the air while swinging his other leg. The toe of his shoe slammed into Manhunter's face, causing stars to burst into her vision, her head jerking back from the blow.
Fortunately—for her—Zombie flew over her head to land behind her, even as she recovered from the kick. Teeth gritted, she maneuvered her staff with one end extended out in front of her, the other hovering by her hip. Shooting up to stand, she jerked the staff backwards, feeling the blow hit home as the end collided with Zombie's back, the man giving out a startled cry.
Spinning around, Manhunter was ready for another thrown knife, a second later thanking her fortune as Zombie had not retaliated that way. Instead he was twisting around, keeping his knife in front of him, holding it about chest level with the tip pointed towards her. It was a stance to keep her at bay, one she was glad to do.
And then the man changed tactics. See, even though Zombie had been holding a gun upon the start of their fight, he had yet to fire a shot at her. He had been more content with using his daggers and they had been keeping him on top of this fight. Now though, he suddenly pulled his knife hand back while extending the one with the gun in front of him, pointing it at her.
Immediately, Manhunter dove to a side, going into a roll down her back and onto her feet, even as a gunshot rang out. She didn't pay any mind to where the bullet went since it hadn't hit her, but that was only the first shot. As she rolled, she pressed a small button on her bo staff, one that caused the end in front of her to start glowing yellow. By the time she was back on her feet, legs crouched beneath her, she had the staff end pointed right at Zombie.
The bald man must have realized this was not normal—and really how could it ever be considered normal?—as it was his turn to look surprised. A moment later, Manhunter fired an energy blast from her staff, the yellow beam burning its way towards her opponent.
Zombie dove out of the way, the blast racing by him a moment later. The beam ended up colliding with a wall shortly after, an exploding ringing out as the wall was blown apart.
Though it was a miss, the knife-wielding man was for once vulnerable. Spinning her staff in front of her as she changed her dominant grip from her right hand to the left, she left go with her right had as she reached to her belt, pulling out a throwing star. Turning her body so that her profile was facing Zombie, she crossed her right arm over her body before whipping it back across, throwing the star.
Her aim rang true as she watched it spin towards its target. Zombie was on his feet by then, turning to face her when the throwing star collided with his gun-holding hand, knocking it out of his grasp as he gave a yelp of pain.
Immediately, Manhunter took off running at the man, swinging her staff at the last moment, aiming for his head. Unlike the usual thugs she fought, Zombie wasn't so consumed by the pain in his hand to get hit, instantly jerking backwards to avoid the blow. Undeterred by this, Manhunter did a backswing, also missing as Zombie danced out of its reach. Changing tactics, the brunette started thrusting her staff at him, which caused the bald guy to lean from side to side even as he backpedaled.
And then he countered. After avoiding a jab, Zombie shot his free hand up, pushing his forearm up to effectively block any side-sweep she could've performed. Simultaneously, he was thrusting his knife towards the brunette's face.
Again, Manhunter jerked her head to a side, but wasn't fast enough to feel the edge of the blade bite into her check, leaving a long cut in its wake. She hissed from the sharp pain, but didn't let that stop her from dropping her staff altogether. By the time it clattered on the floor, she had both of her hands grabbing onto Zombie's extended arm, one hand on his forearm and the other on his bicep.
Leaning backwards, she pulled on the man's arm, using Zombie's momentum against him as they both fell to the floor. Though Manhunter landed on her back, her attempt to drive her foe's head into the floor failed as the man hit the floor with his shoulders,, squirming his arm out of her grasp as he went into a roll. He was on his feet faster than the vigilante even as she had rolled onto her stomach.
And yet, he still didn't throw his knife at her. That was starting to puzzle her. He had been pretty liberal with his use of throwing knives, now and the time they had first met, so why was he being so conservative?
This hesitation gave Manhunter the time she needed to get back onto her feet, just in time to avoid another stab of the knife. Copying Zombie's earlier move, she moved an arm up to block against a side slash and went for broke, throwing a punch at the bald man's face. Her blow connected and Zombie stumbled back a step from the hit.
Seeing he was open, Manhunter went in for another punch, landing one, then two hits to his side—kidney shots that Zombie definitely felt. He cringed from each blow, actively moving away to get out of her reach.
This gave her a brief respite, one she was more than willing to use. Silently, she cursed she had been cut, especially on her check. Already she was fearing the worst; she remembered the last time she had been cut by his guy. She had ended up locked up in Dr. Thompkins' clinic and that wasn't a place she wanted to be a repeat customer to.
And yet, that had been a dagger coated with poison and Zombie had still thrown it at her. Even now as he recovered, he wasn't trying to throw it. There had to be a reason for it. Going from throwing knives willy-nilly to hanging onto one only; that was was drastic change unless...
Unless he was down to this one knife. That made a ton of sense, actually. Zombie seemed like a guy that bet on sure odds, ones that he was sure he'd one. Throwing knives from a distance kept him safe while putting his opponent on the defensive fit into that mindset. He was bloody accurate too, so he could predict where his target would be.
He had to be on his last one, he just had to be.
"You are skilled," Zombie said then, his tone stoic, devoid of emotion. "Perhaps not at my level, but close."
"Gee, should I take that as a compliment?" she replied sarcastically.
"Unfortunately, I have wasted too much time here." At this, he reached within his suit jacket, pulling out a grenade. "We shall have to revisit this at another, more opportune moment."
With his thumb hooked into the grenade pin, he then pulled it out with practiced ease. He then tossed the grenade underhand at the vigilante, which caused her to bolt, running for the nearest cover. That turned out to be the doorway she had used to enter this room, one she dove through even as the grenade exploded behind her.
The force of the blast rammed into Manhunter, causing her to cry out as she was forced further down the hallway, landing hard on the floor as she skidded across it until she came to a stop. There was a ringing in her ears, one that caused her to wince. Leaning her body so that she could look behind her, she could only see a cloud of smoke wafting through the open doorway. As wishful as she was, she highly doubted the explosion caught Zombie. No doubt he found another way out.
Fan-freaking-tastic.
Whatever awkwardness that had occurred between the two teen vigilantes didn't last long. When bullets start hitting the area around you, you have to snap out of it and move.
It this case, it was Red Robin shielding the pair further with his cape. "You got anything on you to knock guns away!" he shouted at her so he could be heard.
"I got these!" Spoiler answered helpfully, pulling out a couple—Goddamn it—birdarangs.
"Throw them!"
"I don't have that good of aim!"
Now she tells him. "I think there's a guy—" he paused as he did his best to detect which direction the bullets were coming from, and a few happen to strike where his back was, "—directly behind me. Throw'em!"
And Spoiler's arm was doing its best to get around his head and throw the birdarang, drawing her hand back once she had. "I think I got him!" the female told him.
The bullets that pelted his cape said differently. "You missed."
"It's not easy trying to throw around you!"
"Just give me the other one!"
She handed it over to him, and he waited for a lull before snapping into action. For a second, he stopped the current running through the cape so that it wasn't this hard, unyielding shield that impeded movement, and spun around, throwing the projectile with the kind of accuracy he was proud of. He continued to spin and reactivated the cape before gunfire from another direction could take advantage. And it was coming from his left, nice.
"How do you know he's not going to pick it up?" Spoiler asked, and that was certainly a logical question.
"'Cause I know how those things work," Red Robin quipped, picking out the sounds of a man crying out and cursing. "The explosive should have taken care of the rest."
"These things can blow up?!" Spoiler squeaked.
"Only if you activate them. Now I need to think how we're going to deal with the others. Wherever the hell they are."
Pausing, he noticed they were in the middle of a lull. That meant someone was in the middle of reloading, and knowing their luck was probably finishing up. Best to wait for the next one.
Without warning, something hit the side of his cape and pushed with enough force to throw the masked teen off his balance. Spoiler was already twisting and looking up to find one of Bane's men over them, lower his foot back to the roof and his machine gun aimed point blank at her.
Crap, the cape was making it difficult to move around and shutting off the current at this point would make them way more exposed than either of them was comfortable with. Plus, there was no telling if he would have enough time to run the current through it in time to reactivate it.
The man in military fatigues yelled, or said something in Spanish, and it was real easy to tell what he was going to do next. Fortunately, neither of the teens would ever find out how true that would be because a boxing glove stuck the man in the side of the head and sent him down into a crumpled heap. The glove fell down as well, revealing that it was attached to a thin, metal shaft that suspiciously looked like an arrow.
"You kids in one piece? No holes I need to be aware of?" And there was Green Arrow with the quip.
"Yeah, yeah, we're good. Good timing," Red Robin replied.
"Why don't you make that thing go limp? Canary and I got the rest of them," the archer said, looking over to the blonde woman as she came to stand next to him.
Shutting off the electric current, Red Robin did just that. "Thanks for the rescue. Where are we heading next?" he asked as he got up to his feet.
"We're going to stick together and try to regroup," Black Canary stated, putting a little emphasis on the word "we." "This whole thing is a mess." Then she activated her comm link. "Oracle, we got Red Robin and Spoiler. Where do you need us?"
"If you can start going north, I'm seeing some activity over there. Runners, but we can't let them get away. Odds are, they're going to be chased as well so best to head them off."
"We're on it," Green Arrow stated. To the younger vigilantes, "Hope you two are fast. We need to move if we're going to catch up with them."
"Speak for yourself. Bet you'll be eating my dust," the younger vigilante challenged.
"Oh? You think you can beat me?" Red Robin had the impression that the older man was raising an eyebrow at him. "Alright, hope you're willing to let this old man here put you to shame."
Behind him, Black Canary shook her head while Spoiler threw her a look, the kind that only girls gave each other when they saw two guys doing, you know, guy things. As if girl things made any more sense.
"Put it back in your pants, boys, before someone shoots them off," the blonde-haired vigilante stated. Turning to Spoiler, she added, "Let's go and get something done."
"Right!" Spoiler agreed, punching a fist into her hand and following after the Bird.
"Hmm, get the sense we might be in the doghouse here?" Green Arrow asked mildly.
"Probably, but let's not let them get too far ahead." And with that, the teen made chase, intentionally not saying aloud that he was leaving the other vigilante in his dust.
Mario Falcone was not a happy man. Once all the action had started, his boys had rushed him out of there as quickly as possible, even though what he wanted to be doing was join in with the fighting.
Sometimes the Falcone name was a bad thing. In this case, it meant people were shoving and touching him in ways he did not like being shoved and touched. Plus they were doing a lot of screaming and it was giving him a damn headache.
As some point, though, he found himself all alone and with no one beside him. Well, they had gotten him this far, right? He might as well make sure they didn't die in vain and all.
But this was just a setback, mark his words as a Falcone. Bane might be winning now, but Gotham only belonged to those who had bled for it, who had killed for it. No one had done as much bleeding and killing for it as the Falcones had, and weirdos in capes aside, he was going to get it back.
One way or another.
Bullets struck the brick walls of the alley he was running down, and Mario swore to himself. Those guys couldn't keep those Spanish-speaking freaks busy long enough, could they? Maybe those assholes deserved to die. Good thing he was just getting out of this place and onto an open street.
An open street without any cover to speak of.
Oh shit, there was nowhere to hide out here and try to do a last stand against those punks. No, no, no, he could not die here. Not yet. Not when he hadn't put a bullet in that wrestling reject's head.
Headlights caught his attention as a car was slowly driving down the road. Well, well, well, looks like his luck hadn't given up on him yet. Here was his way to get out of here.
He began waving his arms in the air, calling out to the car, and yes, the heavens were being very good to him now as the vehicle came to a stop, the passenger side door opening. While he would have preferred to drive, a beggar couldn't be a chooser, right? He was taking it. Besides, he had a gun and he could get the driver to step on it quick.
Running over, he slipped around the opened car door and slid into the passenger seat, all the while shouting, "Move, move, move!"
The driver, a man with a pair of glasses that had light reflecting off them and a short, yet thick beard, replied, "As you wish."
Immediately, the car lunged forward. Whoa, this guy could move. He was stepping on it and they were flying down the street. Looks like he didn't need to use his gun yet.
"Man, you're a lifesaver," Mario commented, throwing out a little praise.
"You seem to be in some trouble. Far be it from me to provide some aid. If you don't mind, would you tell me about what is happening?" the driver asked, not in the least bit nervous or afraid. He must have been one of those guys who could be calm in any situation.
"Just a load of shit. Nothing you need to be putting your nose in," Mario retorted, not even minding when the driver drove past a stop sign without stopping. Heh, screw traffic laws.
"You might be right," the driver agreed. "Though, if you don't mind me saying, you look very tense. Perhaps you would like something to relax you."
"What I would like is if you could get me out of town," Mario retorted, turning his head to snap at the driver because he was not in the mood for any chitchat. He had retaliation to plan.
However, he soon found his body freezing up, a syringe needle sticking into his neck while the driver pushed down on the plunger. "There, there, that will relax you," the driver chuckled, and that was not a noise that boded well for the Falcone scion. "Close your eyes and give in. Do not worry, I...wak...er...eep…"
And by then, everything had gone black.
It had taken some time, but finally Nightwing had found a relatively safe place. He and Red Hood had managed to find a courtyard-looking place. It was surrounded on three sides by two building, an alleyway separating the two on one side. The remaining side was bordered by a street. There were stone seatings that surrounded wood chip bedding with little thin trees growing out from them. There were benches scattered about as well.
It was eerily quiet here, assuming you didn't count the random burst of gunfire, all of which was happening in the buildings. None of it was here, which was the main thing.
That changed fairly quickly.
Out of nowhere, gunfire erupted from somewhere across the street, the bullets hitting the cement walkways around the two vigilantes. "Move! Move!" Nightwing ordered as he put a hand on Red Hood's back, forcing the kid to run as fast as he could. The two ran as small pieces of cement burst into the air around them coupled with clouds of dust. Heading right for a stone seating, the two leapt onto the portion covered in wood chips before diving behind it, putting the miniature garden between them and their shooters.
"This just keeps getting better and better!" Red Hood exclaimed snidely as he crouched behind the stone seating, pieces of wood chips raining down on him as bullets pelted it. "We gotta do something other than letting them run out of bullets!"
"I know, I know," Nightwing retorted, the older man on his elbows and knees. They were in an "out of the frying pan and into the fire" situation. While the dark-haired boy was right, they couldn't wait, but there wasn't really a lot of choices either.
Edging his way to a corner of their stone cover, Nightwing peaked around it, spying several mercenaries walking across the street and entering the courtyard. A few were removing empty magazines and replacing them with new ones while others were firing away. Quickly pulling back behind the cover, Nightwing pulled out a shuriken, waiting a moment to steel his nerves. Taking a deep breath he then swung his arms out from behind his cover and threw the shuriken, pulling his arm back as soon as he could.
There was a yelp of pain, followed by some swearing, or at least what he assumed was swearing. It was said in Spanish, but the dark-haired vigilante was pretty positive those words were swears. He sensed Red Hood moving behind him, almost as if he were trying to stand before jerking himself down. "Nice shot," he said snidely. "You got one of them. Only twenty more to go."
"Well, I don't see you coming up with any big ideas," Nightwing replied. "Unless you can come up with something, keep your opinions to yourself."
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his ankle, causing the older vigilante to turn his head to look at his partner. Red Hood had wide eyes, as if he were trying to listen for something. "Do you hear that?" he whispered.
Nightwing began to focus on his hearing, listening before he came to a conclusion. "They stopped firing."
Immediately, he peeked around his corner and felt his stomach drop. While the mercenaries had stopped their gunfire, it wasn't because they were unconscious—that would be asking for too much. No, the reason was because of a giant hulk, who had appeared out of thin air, and stood in front of the group.
Bane.
Nightwing felt his stomach drop, the blood in his veins freezing. This...this was the guy responsible for all of this. The mastermind behind Gotham's current spiral and the sole reason for the fall of Gotham's Dark Knight. He was standing there, bulky arms crossed over a chiseled chest. It was like he was waiting for something.
Or someone.
"You can come out," Bane called out. There was no question who he was talking to. Nightwing glanced to Red Hood, who was looking right at him.
"What do we do?" the younger vigilante hissed.
Honestly, Nightwing wasn't sure. This had to be a trap, it just had to be. The moment they poked their heads out, they'd be shot.
"Come out now, or I will come to you," the hulk added.
"Alright!" Nightwing shouted. "Alright, I'm coming out!"
"Don't do it," Red Hood said. "It's a trick, you idiot."
"What choice do we have?" he responded. Then without further hesitation, Nightwing stood up.
The most surprising thing was there was no gunfire. In fact, all the mercenaries had lowered their weapons, keeping them at the ready, but no longer pointing them in the two vigilantes' direction. Slowly, Nightwing walked out from behind the stone seating, putting himself out in the open.
Apparently, Red Hood noticed the lack of gunfire and he too stood up. Carefully, he stepped out to join the older vigilante. "Children," Bane remarked. "Is this all that Gotham has left to offer?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Red Hood bristled, puffing himself up to look bigger. This, of course, didn't close the gap in size between him and Bane. "You wanna say that again?"
"Shut it, Hood," Nightwing ordered, his tone low and harsh. This caused the younger man to look at him, not the least bit humbled.
"You're just going to let him talk about us like that?" he demanded. "He's looking down on us! We can't let him get away with that! Think about it! We can take this guy down and end this invasion of his, or whatever he's doing."
The street logic aside, Nightwing had to admit that Jason had a good point. If they beat Bane here and now, Gotham would be saved. They could drive him and his men out with their tails tucked between their legs. This could very well be the end.
It was definitely an opportunity he couldn't pass up.
"Listen to me carefully," Nightwing began, not once taking his eyes off of Bane. "I'll handle Bane. You stay out of it."
Red Hood gave him a disbelieving look. "You want me to—how can you ask that? I got into this gig for a chance like this! I'm not gonna sit on the sidelines while you hog all the glory!"
The older vigilante shot him a look. "This isn't about glory, Hood. This is about safety. That guy over there, the one the size of a mountain, he beat the Batman. Last I checked, Batman was the best fighter in the city. You're nowhere ready to take on someone like that. Between the two of us, I stand the best chance. Now you will follow my orders. Got it?"
The dark-haired boy stared at him before he grunted his disapproval. He then crossed his arms over his chest, looking away with a scowl on his face. "Just beat this guy, alright?"
"That's what I'm going to do." With that, Nightwing began walking towards Bane, his hands balled into fists at his side. At the sight of this, Bane dropped his arms to a side, holding his ground as the smaller man approached him.
Picking up his pace, Nightwing was at a full run, rapidly closing the distance between them. A moment later, Bane began to walk towards him, drawing a fist back and throwing it at the last second. Immediately, Nightwing ducked, allowing the blow to go flying over his left shoulder. An instant later, he shot both of his arms up, wrapping them around his opponent's bulkier one. Using his speed and momentum to his advantage, the vigilante pulled down on Bane's arm while swinging both of his legs up, his feet ramming against Bane's chin, causing his head to snap back as he stumbled back a step.
As Nightwing continued to move upwards, his body upside down in mid-air, he suddenly felt Bane's arm twist against his, the larger man's hand suddenly clamping down on his smaller arm. Suddenly, the younger man felt himself be whipped to a side, Bane spinning around in a circle, the circular momentum causing him to lose his grip on his foe's arm. The next thing he knew, Bane had thrown him through the air, the dark-haired vigilante careening through the air until his back crashed against the side of a brick wall.
A choked cry came from his lips as the air in his lungs were forced out, gravity causing him to drop onto the ground, landing on his head and shoulders before collapsing onto his stomach. Good Lord, that hurt! Nightwing coughed as he sought to breathe again, sucking in precious air back into his lungs.
"Look out!" he heard someone cry out. Jerking his head around, Nightwing caught sight of Bane approaching him. Though he wasn't fully recovered, the vigilante force himself onto his feet, spinning around to face the masked man.
That was when Bane planted a foot down on the ground, rearing back as he raised up his other leg. Seeing what was going to happen, Nightwing spun to a side, dodging the kick Bane sent at where he previously stood, his foot colliding with the wall of the building. To his shock, the brick barely withstood the blow, a spider's web of cracks instantly forming as thousands of small pieces chipped off.
Undeterred, Bane brought his foot down even as he threw a punch with his left fist. Again, Nightwing continued to spin, avoiding the blow as it too cracked and shattered solid brick when the fist collided with the wall.
And then Bane performed a sideswipe with his arm, swinging his arm out and delivering a backhand blow to the side of Nightwing's face. Pain exploded throughout his head as he was once again sent flying through the air. It wasn't until his feet touched back on the ground that he began to stop, the young man miraculously managed to stay standing even as he skidded to a stop on the ground.
Jesus Christ! What is this guy?! rang throughout his mind. He had only been hit twice and both times felt like he had been hit with a sledgehammer. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to further worry what that all meant as Bane came charging at him, arms pumping at his sides with each stride his legs took..
Alright, no more dodging. He needed to get in some hits too. In response, Nightwing began running towards Bane, running at a slight angle to the wall. Jumping, he pressed one foot down on the brick surface and used it to spring higher into the air, extending a leg out as he performed a flying kick.
Bane didn't seem fazed by the approaching kick, immediately jerking to a side to avoid the attack, his body twisting to follow along as the lithe man flew by him. Then with unnatural speed, Bane shot a beefy hand up and grabbed onto the back of Nightwing's neck. Using his momentum against him, Bane continued to spin, throwing the vigilante through the air again, only this time towards the center of the courtyard.
Thankfully, he wasn't out of control when he was thrown and Nightwing managed to land on his feet. He bounced off the ground once so that he could get a better foothold. Mentally, he went over what had happened. Well, to be more precise, he was realizing he wasn't getting anywhere with this fight. Bane had successfully countered everything he had thrown at him so far.
Fine, it was time to take off the kid gloves.
Spinning around, Nightwing pulled out his escrima sticks, giving them a quick twirl in his hands, even as Bane stormed towards him. Hardening his expression, Nightwing went running at his foe, who came to a stop at his change in tactics. Letting out a war cry, he swung his right escrima stick at Bane, who shot an arm up and blocked the stick with his forearm. Undeterred, Nightwing began swinging his other one, receiving another forearm block.
Over and over, Nightwing swung his escrima sticks, right, left, right, left. Each time, Bane blocked them, though he was backing up a step with each successful block, which only caused the vigilante to press forward with each swung he made.
That all changed when after another successful block, Bane reared back again, bringing up his leg and performing another front snap kick. Immediately, Nightwing spun to a side as the leg sailed in front of him. Bringing up his right escrima stick, he then swung it down, landing a hit on top of Bane's knee, which forced it back to the ground. Then with the same arm, Nightwing swung a backhand sweep, one Bane dodged by stepping backwards, leaning as he did so. Undeterred, Nightwing then swung his left escrima stick, aiming for Bane's head.
The masked man dodge again; however, this time he ducked the swinging stick, leaning forward as he stepped forward. The escrima stick flew over his head as the vigilante passed right by him, Bane pivoting on his feet as he straightened out his body. His pivot allowed him to swing another fist, one that slammed right into Nightwing's back.
Again, Nightwing was sent flying, and again he crashed against the same brick wall, only this time it was with his face and chest. He felt the brick surface cracked beneath his body just before he fell to the ground, landing on his back.
This...this was insane. Madness! No wonder Batman had been wrecked by this guy; he was inhuman, insanely fast, and with monstrous strength. Nightwing's body ached and throb from the thrashing he had received so far. His face felt like sandpaper, though that was expected after his face had slammed and rubbed against damaged bricks.
And then two feet slam down by his head, both covered in combats boots. "It seems you have given me your best," Bane's deep voice rumbled above him. Looking up to the man, all he saw was his hand reaching down to him and then wrapping around his neck. Bane then picked him right off the ground single-handedly, the dark-haired vigilante feeling his body twist around until he was facing Bane, his body dangling from his single hand. His escrima sticks laid on the ground, dropped out of his weakened grasp.
"Your best is not good enough."
Nightwing wanted to say something clever; maybe deliver a zinging one-liner right out of an 80's action movie. All he managed to do was groan and cough at the same time.
Bane didn't seem finished with his insulting of him, however. "Your Batman, wounded and exhausted from his battle with the Plant Lady, he managed a better fight then than you have given me at full strength tonight. Before I end your suffering, know that this is what happens to all that oppose Bane."
And then his hand clamped down harder on Nightwing's throat, causing the young man to gag and choke, both his hands weakly moving up to grab at Bane's wrist in a vain attempt to stop being strangled.
That was when he heard a yell, followed by Red Hood swinging some sort of wooden club at the back of Bane's knee, causing him to yelping with pain. The brute dropped to one knee, shaking Nightwing in his grasp.
This gave the vigilante a better look at his young friend's weapon, which turned out to be a broken tree branch, one he no doubt broke off of one of the trees. Pulling it back, he swung it again, hitting Bane against his back. Again, he yanked it back to swing again.
However, as he swung his tree branch, Bane twisted his body around, catching the branch with one hand and stopping it cold. Raising himself to stand once again, subsequently lifting Nightwing up into the air, the dark-haired man felt himself be pulled to a side and the next thing he knew, Bane was spinning around to face Red Hood.
And then threw the older vigilante right at his comrade.
Nightwing's back slammed right into Red Hood, causing both vigilantes to go flying backwards through the air. Hood cried out from the hit, the two sailing through the air until they dropped down to the ground. Red Hood hit first, went sent Nightwing bouncing off of him, skipping around the pavement of the courtyard until he skidded to a stop.
"Oww," he moaned, taking a moment to rest even though his body felt as if he went through a grinder. Slowly, he rolled onto his side, spotting Red Hood lying unconscious on the ground nearby through cracked eyelids.
Of course, that's when he also spotted Bane approaching them. "Attacking an opponent's blind spot," he remarked as he strolled towards them. "Such bravery from someone so young. It will be a shame to have to crush it out of him."
"No…" Nightwing said weakly, even as he reached a hand out, attempting to crawl towards his younger partner. "Stop…"
Bane did come to a stop; however, it was right next to Red Hood. Even from where he laid, Nightwing knew the large man was going to stomp the boy until he was nothing but bloody paste. He couldn't move, couldn't react—he couldn't stop this.
And then a shadow appeared, which caused Bane to hesitate. The masked man suddenly twisted his body around, his head jerking upwards. Nightwing merely tilted his own head to look up, spotting Huntress falling towards the large man, her legs coiled beneath her and her hands at one end of her bo staff, holding it above her head.
"HAAAAAAA!" Huntress roared as she swung her staff down. In response, Bane jumped to a side, dodging the strike as the staff smacked down on the pavement, Huntress' feet touching down an instant later.
Her dark-haired head turned to keep Bane in her sights, her face twisted with anger. Adjusting her grip, she then swung the staff up off the ground and right at her opponent. Shooting both of his hands up, Bane caught the staff with his palms, his beefy fingers wrapping around the weapon.
Immediately, he spun on his heels, pulling on the staff and subsequently yanking Huntress off the ground. Bane spun in a circle, though whatever he was planning to do, it was cut short as Huntress let go of the staff and went flying backwards through the air. She landed on her feet a couple seconds later, one hand crossed over her chest.
The moment she skidded to a stop, she suddenly swung her crossed arm out and across her body. There was a flash of light from what Nightwing was able to detect; Bane too as it turned out as he suddenly moved his arm up, three thin hilt-less knives embedding themselves into his forearm one after the other.
There was a moment where everything stopped. Slowly, Bane rotated his forearm and studied the thin blades in his arm. Then he looked back at Huntress. "You are the woman at the Bat's side," he stated, dropping his arm to his side.
"I'm the woman that's going to kick your ass," the purple-clad woman retorted.
Bane didn't seem affected by her words. Instead he held her staff in front of him gripping it with both hands. It only took a second, but the staff snapped cleanly in two, the masked man tossing both ends away as he jerked his arms to his sides. The two broken pieces clattered on the ground.
"Like your staff, I will snap you in two," Bane promised, beginning to approach the dark-haired woman. Huntress held her ground for a moment, her fists held out in front of her like a boxer. Then she seemed to change her mind as she took off running at Bane, her cape billowing behind her.
Leaping off the ground at the last moment, Huntress held a leg back before swinging it for Bane's head. In turn, the large man raised an arm up, blocking the kick. Bouncing back, Huntress landed, only to immediately lunge at her foe, throwing a fist to his face. With the same arm he had blocked her, Bane merely shifted it from his side to in front of him, stopping the fist with his palm.
Undeterred, Huntress threw her other fist, only for Bane to catch that as well. Suddenly, he lunged forward, ramming his head against the purple-clad vigilante. Huntress cried out as her head jerked back, a blob of blood flying out of her mouth.
That was when Bane adjusted his grip onto her forearms, then yanked them—and her—up into the air. The moment she reached her zenith, Bane then twisted his body to a side and swung Huntress downward, smashing her onto the ground. Turning his body in the other direction, he once more pulled Huntress off the ground, this time throwing her through the air. Nightwing watched the woman careen towards him, hitting the ground again and going into a roll, rolling over and over until she came to a stop near him.
Bane paused as he stared at Huntress, though it was possible he was looking at all three of them—it was hard to tell due to his mask. "This is a disappointment," he grumbled, straightening out his posture. "If this is the last resistance this city can offer, then it is already mine."
Huntress groaned as she shifted on the ground, turning her head to look at the hulk. "I'm not done yet," she seethed.
"Perhaps, but you are done wasting my time." Then Bane deliberately turned his back on them and began walking towards his men. "Finish them," he ordered as he passed by them, not even pausing to stop.
The men looked to each other, many of them smirking. Collectively, they raised their guns and slowly approached the three vigilantes. "Looks like we have ourselves some gringos to waste," one of them said.
Before any of them could fire, something hit the ground in front of them, causing them to stop. Looking to it, Nightwing saw an arrow sticking out of the ground, some sort of canister attached to the shaft towards the tip.
Suddenly, a bright light erupted from the arrow, causing everyone looking at it to cry out as their eyes were burned. Nightwing jerked his head away as he squeezed his eyes shut, the normal blackness his eyelids provided turning into a bright, dangerous red.
"Tally ho!"
Nightwing knew that voice and he couldn't have been happier to hear it. When he noticed the redness fade back into black, the young man began to open his eyes, a painful sensation burning into his eyeballs. However, his vision came back in time to see Green Arrow crashing down on top of two...no, three of the mercenaries. At the same time, Red Robin's birdarangs came whirling through the air, striking the hands of a couple of the gunmen, causing them to lose hold of their weapons.
The teen himself came swooping through the air with some sort of glider on his back. Nightwing narrowed his eyes at the sight of it. It seemed someone had been receiving some damn good equipment while leaving his friends high and dry. He was going to have to have a talk with his supplier.
As if that wasn't enough, Katana joined the party, the Asian woman seemingly appearing out of thin air, sword in hand, and slashing at the barrels of the remaining guns. She was a blur of red and yellow as she darted from man to man, cleaving their guns in two before moving to the next.
That was when he heard gunfire go off, but not in front of him—behind. Snapping his head around, there were more of Bane's men. When had they gotten there? The only logical way was they slipped around during his fight with Bane so as to cut off an escape route to that alleyway. Either that or they had used the alley, effectively blocking it either way. Currently though, Black Canary was in midair between two of the men, a fist embedded in the face of one, her legs wrapped around the head and neck of another. She was falling too as she hit the ground, bringing the man in her leg-stranglehold down with her. A blast of blue electricity came down then, striking another gunman. Turning his attention to its source, he found Bluebird up on a rooftop, taking aim and firing another electrical blast. Spoiler was next to her, looking as if she were throwing birdarangs, or throwing stars. He wasn't sure how much luck she was having to be honest.
However, seeing all the other vigilantes getting in on the action, Nightwing felt he needed to keep up his end of things. His body protested as he began to move, forcing himself gingerly up onto his feet. Seeing as Green Arrow, Red Robin, and Katana were handling the majority of the gunmen, that left Black Canary on the ground on her own.
"Hey, take it easy." Tilting his head to a side, he found Manhunter right next to him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. It seemed as if everyone was coming out of the woodwork. "You look like you've been through hell."
"Well, it wasn't that much fun," he replied to her. "But I have a little juice left in the tank."
"Bad idea," she told him. "Stay here with H and the new kid. We've got this."
Then, as if their conversation was over, Manhunter turned and went to help out Canary, rushing towards the nearest mercenary she could find and slamming her fist into the back of his head.
Nightwing was sure the others could handle this. They were professionals. Yet, there was something inside of him that demanded that he needed to help, regardless if the smart move was to sit tight and let them do the heavy lifting. Gritting his teeth he began trudging towards Black Canary and Manhunter's side. He could take down one, just one. He could do this.
He had to do this.
As luck would have it, one of the gunmen darted right in front of him and Nightwing took that as a sign he was doing the right thing. Jumping, he wrapped his arms around the man's waist, tackling him to the ground. The man cried out as he was tackled, grunting when he hit the ground. Pushing himself up over his target, Nightwing drew back a fist and threw it, slamming it into the mercenary's face. Over and over, he hit the man until he was sure he was unconscious.
Of course, things couldn't be that simple. The next thing he knew, something hit Nightwing against the back of his head, a cry flying out of his mouth as he collapsed to the ground.
A hand then roughly grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn onto his side. The barrel of a gun was pressed into his forehead. "Okay, Gringo, tell your friends to stop," a Hispanic man ordered him. "Do it, or I paint the ground with your brains."
Stupid, stupid! Why didn't you listen, Dick?! he cried out in his head. Here he was, damn certain that he was less than one hundred percent, and what did he do? Put himself in a position that he had warned his three trainees never to get themselves in. What a poor example he was making.
Suddenly, the gun was removed from his temple and a gunshot was fired. A moment later and the gun returned. What followed was the sudden quiet that took over the previous commotion of violence. Looking throughout the courtyard, Nightwing could see the others had stopped their fighting, freezing in place where they stood, or laid.
"Okay, you bastards, no fast moves," the mercenary called out, moving to stand by Nightwing's head. His hand then tightened around his upper arm and he began dragging the vigilante across the ground, coming to a stop by the mouth of the alleway. "I think you all know the drill. Any of you so much as move and I put one in your friend's head."
Again, Nightwing felt his arm be pulled out and soon he had been forced into a kneeling position, albeit a wobbly one. Somehow, he ended up facing the mercenary rather than his friends, not that he wanted to. He could only imagine just how worried they looked, or even expressing their annoyance with him.
There was movement, the sound of someone shifting on the ground. "Don't give us that crap," he heard Huntress call out. "Everyone here knows you're going to shoot him and us."
The man glared towards the vigilante before he glanced down to Nightwing. "Well, when she's right, she's right," he admitted to the dark-haired man. A grin best described as evil appeared on his face then. "Might as well get it over with, right, Ese?"
That was when the end of a sword burst through his chest, sending blood splattering all over Nightwing. Both men looked to the sword, blood dripping from its edge before looking back to each other. The mercenary looked shocked while the vigilante was in astonishment.
And then the man was roughly yanked to aside, the sword sliding out of his body as he went tumbling to the ground. Standing right behind where the mercenary had stood was a man in a green cloak. He held a bloody sword in one hand, holding it at shoulder height and to a side. This allowed a visual of a green business suit beneath it.
Steely blue eyes bore into Nightwing, a stern mouth framed by two puffs of dark hair on either side of his chin. It was the same color as the groomed haired on his head, save for the white streaks emerging from his temples and running along the sides of his head. "I see we are not too late," he said, speaking as if he were making a comment about the weather.
As he lowered his sword, one of the mercenaries exclaimed, "He killed Pedro!"
The mysterious man shifted his attention to the speaker. "He will not be the last." Raising up his other hand, he had two fingers extended up, which he rapidly waved.
An odd sound was made, one that was repeated over and over. It honestly sounded like thwick. However, when Nightwing turned his head to look behind him, he saw mercenaries seemingly freezing where they stood before they dropped to the ground. Soon, the only people standing were only the vigilantes.
What the hell was going on here?
"I must commend you," the mystery man spoke again, forcing Nightwing to return his attention to him. "It is not often someone risks their own life for the protection of others."
"Thanks?" the dark-haired man responded hesitantly. "Umm, who are you...exactly?"
The man tilted his head back slightly. "I am known as Ra's al Ghul, Mr. Grayson."
The very blood in Nightwing's veins froze. How...what...this man...he knew who he was. And the way he had said his name was so casual. There was no mistaking that he knew.
"You have no need to fret, young man," Ra's al Ghul told him, his voice never once changing in strength or volume. "Your secret, as well as the ones of your compatriots, are safe with me. As for your city, that I must say is another matter."
Finding strength, Nightwing forced himself to stand up on his feet. Already he was getting a bad feeling about this guy despite him saving his life mere moments ago. "What about Gotham?" he demanded. Faintly, he was aware of the others beginning to approach the two of them.
"Do not play coy, it does not suit you. Gotham is under attack by a foe you cannot win against. You have just suffered defeat at his hands."
Well, that was one way to bring up a sore—literally—subject. Nightwing couldn't help the scowl that appeared on his face. "I'm still standing," he responded, resisting the urge to growl. "And there will be another time."
"As commendable as it is, there is only one true guardian of this city and he had been fallen by this same man, this Bane," al Ghul countered. That was when the younger man caught movement over the man's shoulder, his right one to be specific. A large, bald man in red pants and a black vest emerged from the darkness of the alleyway, coming to a stop at its mouth.
"This city is in need of a new guardian,"al Ghul continued, even as someone else appeared, this time over the left shoulder. This one was of a woman and a beautiful one at that. Her dark hair cascaded over half of her face, revealing only one eye.
Yet, she was not alone. One of her hands was resting on the shoulder of a young boy, one dressed in a blue-and-white bodysuit. If it weren't for the woman's hand, Nightwing would've said there was a chip on the boy's shoulder.
"And though I am a poor substitute for the Detective, I intend on upholding his legacy in the way that he was taught." This time, there was movement from all around. It wasn't just the alleyway, but the buildings that created the pathway. Men in head-to-toe bodysuits appeared, round goggles indicating where their eyes were. They seemed to flood out of the alley, along with growing right out of the rooftops, lining their ledges.
"Gotham City will now be under the protection of the Demon's Fang."