The first shot was shaky and bounced with every step that the holder took. The camera was in someone's hands, pointed down at their feet as they walked. After a while, the shaking stopped as the holder came to a halt. He stood there, probably fiddling with the camera.

"What's with that?" a voice asked from off the side. "You're gonna film this?"

"Don't get the wrong idea," a louder voice, the camera holder, replied. "The clown asked for this. He said he wouldn't go along with the plan if we didn't do it."

"Sick fuck," the other person remarked.

"Yeah, well it'll also send a good message." The audio crackled as the camera was set down. It was quickly rotated until it faced a nearby table. Bound to the table was an unconscious Jocelyn Drei. "The heroes of Gotham, and the world, will see what happens when they fuck with us."

Jason's heart stopped when he saw her. He could hardly draw in breath. The sight of her terrified him. It made him cold, and he wanted so badly to stop watching so he wouldn't have to see what he knew would happen next.

"S-stop," he pleaded in a shaking voice. "Stop the tape. Don't make me watch."

"Shh!" the Joker hushed sharply. "It's about to get to the good part! Don't tell me I have to gag you with barbed wire."

The camera was shifted a little until Jocelyn was in full view. Three separate ropes bound each of her arms. Her left arm extended over the edge of the table from the shoulder. "Wake her up," a harsh voice barked.

Water was thrown onto Jocelyn's face. Her eyes flew open and she let out a shuddering gasp before coughing up spurts of water. She tried to sit up, but to no avail. Jocelyn looked wildly around at the men around her before her eyes focused on something above her. An expression of pure horror crossed her face.

Someone walked next to her. It was one of the Signet members, but he could only be seen from the chest down. "Do you understand now?" he asked as he reached up to something above the camera's view. He tapped on something that sounded metallic. "What's about to happen to you?" Jocelyn didn't answer, but her breathing was so harsh that even the camera could pick it up.

"It's not going to be quick," the man continued. "We'll be going in an order that delays death. First your arms. Then your legs. Then we'll work our way up until you finally die. After that, we'll remove your head and place it somewhere he'll see. Today, the human body is your enemy. It will want to survive and remain alive for as long as it can, whereas you will pray for death." He suddenly raised a fist and slammed it into Jocelyn's stomach. Her body jolted and she cried out. Jason's hands tightened, and he pulled against his own restraints.

"You… won't get… the chance," Jocelyn growled. "They'll be here."

"If only," the man taunted. "But they aren't even aware. And if they somehow managed to find out, they won't make it in time. Now, is that adrenaline running? Good." He took a step back. Something above Jocelyn whirred to life. She stared up at it, eyes wide with panic. The whirring quickly became a shrill shriek.

"No… No… NO! No, please!" She began pulling desperately at the ropes. A silver blur came into the camera's view, slowly descending from the top. It was a spinning carbide saw. The movement of the saw was painfully slow as it headed straight for Jocelyn's exposed left arm, right at the shoulder.

"Don't! Please don't!" Her voice was growing more and more hysterical. The saw was only a foot away. "Stop! STOP! PLEASEDON'T! NO! HELP ME, PLEASE!" Only a few inches left.

He couldn't take it any more. And then he heard her say it.

"Jason!" she sobbed. "HELP ME, JASON!" The saw blade was at her arm.

He squeezed his eyes shut just as she began to scream. But it was quickly drowned out by the sound of the saw cutting through something. He couldn't stand it. He didn't want to hear it anymore. He just wanted to die.

Suddenly there was a loud crash. Then a shout. Jason opened his eyes. He shouldn't have. For a split second, he saw her pale, agonized face. And her shoulder, just the shoulder, pouring blood over the edge of the table. Then the image quickly disappeared as the camera was knocked over and crashed onto the ground. The video stopped there.

The Joker let out a huff of disappointment. "What a load of bull," he said as he meandered over to the projector to turn it off. "I tell you, directors are a dime a dozen these days. Those monkeys he calls crewmembers didn't even pay attention to the camera! And now look! They've robbed us of that quality cinematic experience." Jason suddenly felt the maniac clasp a hand over his shoulder. The Joker leaned in closer towards his ear.

With a dark, sinister voice, he said, "The only redeeming aspect of it was the actress, wouldn't you agree?" Then he pushed off of Jason's shoulder and spread his arms out wide. "Someone give that girl an Oscar!"

Jason pulled against his restraints. "How dare you, y-you son of a bitch!" he snarled. The Joker placed a hand thoughtfully on his chin.

"Why Jason, you're looking a bit pale. That can't be too healthy. Let's get some color back into those cheeks." In an instant, Jason's vision flashed white and a loud ringing roared in his ears when the Joker hit him across the face. He gritted his teeth against the pain.

"Fuck you!" Jason roared. "You murderous bitch! You did this to her! I swear… I swear I'll kill you!"

"Me? Oh, Jason, Jason! I think you're missing something here." The Joker quickly stepped behind the boy and placed both hands on his shoulders. "Didn't you hear it in the tape? Clear as day, the actress was calling out for her knight in shining armor." In a phony, high-pitched voice, he squeaked, "Jason! Jason, help me! Aaaaah! And where in the world was the supporting actor? Oops, looks like he missed his cue! But the show had to go on, didn't it? Oh well!" He patted Jason's shoulders. "Maybe next time you'll get your role right."

"You're… you're wrong," Jason stammered. But before he knew it, he was alone. He looked around, but it was just him in that room. There was nothing there to stop the Joker's words from manifesting his head.

"Where were you when she needed you the most?" the small voice in his head accused. "She was counting on you, and now she's dead because of you. It is all your fault."

"Jo…" he whispered hoarsely into the darkness. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there."

"She'll never forgive you. And now you'll die alone in here."

Jason lowered his head. He began to cry. Only the dead silence was there for him.

Gotham City. Present Day.

The control center for the missile launcher's blast shields was currently being guarded by a swarm of the Arkham Knight's militia. That wouldn't be a problem. They were more of a hindrance than an obstacle.

He knew what he had to do. Get up to the control center, take down the missile launcher, send out the Batwing, and find the Cloudburst. After that infernal thing was destroyed, he'd be able to go straight after Scarecrow and make him pay for what he did to Barbara.

Batman glanced up at where the control room was as he laid another unconscious militiaman down. He was getting close; there were only a handful of men left standing between him and his goal.

Running to a corner, he crouched down next to the wall and listened. His detective vision had told him that there had been a few men around this corner, yet he couldn't hear anything. He risked a peek. Beyond the corner, a few knocked out men law sprawled across the floor. Batman rose to his feet. He knew that he had not been in this area before. Someone else was here. Tim was still at the movie studios, and Dick was currently tracking down Penguin's weapon caches. He knew exactly who it was.

"I didn't think you would come back," he said to seemingly no one. "Still, it's too dangerous. You should limit your involvement."

"Since when did I start taking orders from you, Batman?" a female voice answered. She appeared in front of him. He took a brief moment to study her. She was just as he remembered, and yet this was not the same Jocelyn Drei he remembered from those years back. Her robotic left arm was a harsh reminder of that.

"You're heading up to the control panel, right?" Jocelyn looked up at where it was above them. "Go on ahead. I've taken care of the last of them."

"You need to get out," Batman ordered as he walked past her. "Once the Arkham Knight realizes this unit isn't responding, this place will be hot with militia presence. They'll be looking for me, but they won't spare you."

The Specter walked after him. "Ah, the Arkham Knight. I had a run-in with him earlier tonight. I could've offed him right then and there if he hadn't cheated."

"You're in my city now," Batman reminded. "And you'll play by my rules if you want to remain an ally."

"Of course," the Specter sighed. "Why do you think I spared these morons?" As they entered the control room, she looked around. "These guys aren't playing around. It looks like someone had money to burn. Hordes of drones prowling the streets, advanced weaponry, and now these crazy things. I've never faced a group this well off before."

Batman paused for a second, and then continued lowering the blast shields. "What have you been up to these past couple of years?" he asked. "After you left Gotham?"

The Specter watched from the window as the missile launcher's blast shields folded down. The blue glow from her mask reflected sharply off the glass. "Axiom," she answered. "You ever heard of them?"

"No."

"Then we did our job well. We were an international anti-terrorist group. An anti-Signet, if you will."

"Were?"

"The organization disbanded half a year ago. Nothing good ever lasts, I suppose."

Suddenly, Verlix spoke over the comms link. "Heads up," he warned. "You've got company headed your way."

"Who is it?" the Specter asked.

"Our good friend."

The Specter looked over to Batman and opened her mouth to tell him the news. Then she stopped. Who was she kidding? He probably already knew.

"You should get out of here," Batman said, still operating the Batmobile. "They'll be expecting just me. They won't notice you if you get out now."

"And you?"

"I have some unfinished business."

Predictable. It was almost disappointing how easy it was to read the old man's movements. As soon as the first radar tower went down, he knew Batman would eventually make his way to the missile launcher. Now all that was left was to corner him and take him down.

The Arkham Knight briskly made his way up the stairs to the control room. A few men were already waiting by the door. A tingling, feral feeling crawled its way through him. Scarecrow wanted the Batman to be taken in alive, but now that he was so close… Well, he couldn't guarantee anything.

With a kick, he sent the doors flying open. Immediately, he saw that the room was empty. The Arkham Knight walked in and looked around. The blast shield controls showed obvious signs of tampering. Other than that, the room looked deserted.

In an instant, his head turned sharply to the side. It had felt as though something had moved past him. He glanced over his shoulder at the open doors.

"Sir?" one of the men asked hesitantly.

"Raise the shields," the Arkham Knight snapped, looking ahead. He decided to let it go. It was not her he was after tonight.

Bringing a hand up to his ear, he spoke into his communicator, "Sir, the launcher is secure."

Addendum: Alright, alright, alright! And we're back!

What? A new chapter? What? It didn't take a lifetime and a half to get posted? WHAT? IT'S THREE IN THE MORNING AND I SHOULD GO TO SLEEP?

... Actually, that sounds like a good idea.