He stumbled away from the control room, his breathing haggard. A hand was gingerly pressed against his raw throat. For a decrepit old man, Bruce sure had a steely grip. The confrontation they had in the control room only lasted for a few seconds, but it was still reeling through his mind as he distanced himself from that place. The Arkham Knight wasn't worried about being followed; he had left a squadron of men to keep Batman busy.
It was clear that the missile launcher was lost. Now was the time to push forward and activate the Cloudburst.
At the thought of the Cloudburst, the Knight suddenly remembered something else. Back at the control room, he was certain that someone had passed by him. And that only meant one thing: she was still in the city.
He hated everything in his past. All the people he knew, the memories he had, and especially Gotham. He wanted this damn city to drown. But he had never wanted her to be a part of this.
And before he knew it, the Arkham Knight realized that his feet had taken him to a peculiar place. He was not back at command. He was standing at the entrance to a very long and dark tunnel. Without hesitation, he plunged into the black.
He had no idea if she would even be here. But he knew who would be.
As expected, the retina scanner had been deactivated. The door was sealed, and if he tried to open it by force, it would bring the whole tunnel down over his head. There was only one thing left to do. Raising a fist up, he slammed it against the hidden door. Then again. And again. The knocks reverberated through the tunnel.
When the knocks ceased, there was no answer. Only silence. But he wouldn't take that for an answer. The Arkham Knight banged against the door again.
Then there was a voice in his ear. "I assumed it was explicitly clear that you are not welcome here. Nor will you ever be," Verlix stated through the comms link.
"You two need to get out of my city. Now. Or else she dies." He didn't want to mention the Cloudburst, or sound overly concerned about her.
"What's the danger? Surely it wouldn't be an explosive dispersion of fear gas, would it? These schematics for this nuclear farting machine are quite… interesting." Suddenly, the AI's tone turned dark. "You disappoint me. Really, you do, Mr. Todd."
Underneath his mask, the Knight's face tensed. "I don't think facial recognition helped you this time."
"I didn't need your face. Just your eye."
"You're not connected to the retina scanner."
"I don't need to be. You didn't hack or disrupt the scanner. You merely used it. I just need to know that much." There was a pause, and then Verlix continued, "She thinks you dead, just like everyone else. I'm not going to tell her otherwise."
"You think I care what you tell her?"
"Of course not. But I care what you tell her. It would be better if she continues to believe that Jason Todd is dead, because as far as I'm concerned, he is. This villain before me just happens to share his name."
The Arkham Knight's hands tightened. "You have no idea what I've been through. What I'm doing is justified."
"Yes, I'm sure Signet shared your philosophies." The mention of that name sparked rage within him. He drew a fist back and punched the wall with all his might. The boom cracked the air like a gunshot.
"This city is going to burn, along with every last hero that tries to stop me!" he roared. "I've warned you. If you get caught in the flames, my back stays turned." He turned and marched away. Verlix said nothing. It didn't matter. That stubborn machine could rot in his cavern for all the Arkham Knight cared.
There was an incoming call from Scarecrow. "What is delaying you?" his impatient voice demanded. "If the launcher has been compromised as you say, then we have precious little time before Batman locates the Cloudburst." The Arkham Knight gave a little frown. Crane's obsession with the Cloudburst often bordered on annoying.
He opened another channel to one of his lieutenants. "What's the status on alpha target?" he asked.
"The Batwing has been spotted patrolling the skies over Founder's Island," the lieutenant responded. "Judging by its continued orbit, it still hasn't located the Cloudburst yet. I'm not sure how long that'll last, though. Alpha target himself has gone missing."
The Arkham Knight switched back to Scarecrow's channel. "Batman's distracted. The Cloudburst isn't in any immediate danger."
"We still have a schedule to keep."
"Rest assured, we'll choke these streets."
"Don't keep me waiting."
She had heard enough. When she had first seen him exiting the tunnel from a distance, she decided to keep an eye on him. But hearing him say those words infuriated her. He was nothing but a terrorist.
As soon as the Arkham Knight cut his channels, she sprang out of the cloak and tackled him. He let out a grunt as they hit the ground. Her robotic arm gripped his neck. One of his arms was pinned by her other arm, the other by her foot. The Arkham Knight let out a few choked breaths as he pulled at her bionic limb. He was never going to budge it.
The Specter didn't say a word as her robotic hand slowly clenched. A bit more pressure, and his windpipe and arteries would be completely obstructed. A little more, and they would be crushed. Then, just a little bit more, and his spine would shatter.
But she kept her hand at a place that would allow him to sputter. Now that she had him here, how should this monster die? Perhaps she could melt a hole through his helmet with her laser? Or maybe bleed him out with her hidden blade?
"You don't deserve the luxury of a quick death," she hissed down at him. "Before you do in hell, I want you to suffer among the living."
The Arkham Knight's gasps started to change. It sounded like he was trying to say something. "J-J…. J…."
The Specter's hand tightened. All sound was cut off. "Batman might've showed you mercy, but you don't deserve any. You'll never hurt anyone again."
One of the Knight's hands left her arm and scrabbled at the side of his helmet. Finally, it seemed to hit its target. The Specter watched as the blue helmet underneath her slide away to reveal the face underneath. And what she saw scared her more than anything.
She immediately let go. Rising to her feet, she stumbled back. The Arkham Knight let out a few weak coughs and pulled in deep breaths. With shaking arms, he pushed himself up. The Specter blinked, but the illusion wouldn't go away. She looked down at her open hands.
"Jo," the voice was hoarse, but it was his.
"Wh-what are you trying to do?" she demanded tearfully. She couldn't look up at him. It wasn't real; it was just a bad dream.
Whirling around, she raced away. Her legs brought her to the shelter of darkness. She phased right through the hidden door and raced down the stairs. When she finally reached the ground, she collapsed onto her knees.
"What happened?" Verlix didn't sound shocked, only sad.
Jocelyn pulled her helmet off, and the lights illuminated her wet face. "I… I think I was gassed again," she stammered. "I didn't think it could get any worse."
Verlix's voice was soft. "You weren't."
"I was!" Jocelyn insisted.
There was no reply from Verlix at first. Then, one of his screens lit up. It showed the schematics of a Cobra tank that was taken from one of the stolen chips. "I've finished my analysis," he announced, changing the subject.
Jocelyn rose slowly to her feet. "So what have you learned?"
"Very little, to be honest. But it was enough." The schematics zoomed into the Cobra drone, highlighting a small little chip that was located just above the underbelly of the tank. "As you know, everything out there is operated via signal. They are all remotely operated from a control board that feeds commands into this little chip. The chip and the signals are designed with the highest security measures, however. I'm sure Batman didn't break a sweat trying to find a way to disrupt these signals, but an old machine like me takes a while. I think these schematics have told me how to override these drones. Block out the signals from the militia, and direct my own influence into that chip."
Jocelyn placed her helmet back on and walked over to the screens. "So basically, you know how to take over one of their drones?"
"Not just any drone. The mother of drones," Verlix said smugly.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
"The right time. The less time the enemy knows about a secret weapon, the better," Verlix answered. Jocelyn dropped her head and turned away. She took a few steps before something caught her eye. Something was on the ground—a photograph.
Her breath caught in her throat. The picture's faded surface showed two faces. One of them was what she had seen underneath that helmet. But it was only a nightmare; it had to be! She rushed over the picture and snatched it up. Her tense hands gripped the top of the photograph, prepared to tear it apart. But her hands loosened. Then she just held it, looking down at the image.
Suddenly, she pressed it against herself. "How long has it been, Verl?" she whispered. "And I'm still trapped like this."
"Hush, hush," Verlix soothed. "Now tell me what you saw out there."
"I…" Jocelyn began. "I was going to kill him. And then the Arkham Knight was… he was…" She looked back down at the photograph. "But that can't be possible. After I woke up, they told me what happened. I sat in front of his grave! What's going on?"
"And despite what I said, I knew this was inevitable," Verlix sighed.
"You knew?"
"I… had an idea."
Jocelyn placed the photograph facedown on a nearby table. "I just wish it wasn't true," she said. "If it's really him… What has he become?" She closed her eyes. "Maybe I really was gassed."
"There's only one way to find out," Verlix said. "But now is not the time. I fear they are almost ready to detonate the Cloudburst. Even phasing won't be able to save you from that." Jocelyn heard metal clicks and hissing coming from the top of the stairs. "I'm securing the doors as best I can."
"So what? I sit down here until the gas clears up? Who knows how long that will take!"
"If you would rather stay up on the surface and claw your eyes out, be my guest," Verlix replied dryly.
Nightwing heaved a sigh as he watched another one of Penguin's weapons trucks drive off. The routes of these convoys were starting to become painfully obvious. He lowered himself over the edge of the roof, his legs dangling down. He watched the delivery truck drive away. Every fiber in his body wanted to go after the truck, but he couldn't without Bruce. That was Batman for you—such a control freak.
Looking around, the city looked almost peaceful. Well, if one was to exclude the smoking remains of the chemical plant, the giant, freakish mutant trees, and that weird burning bat signal in the distance. What was that about? Did Bruce make that? He always had a flair for the dramatic.
A voice echoed down from the streets. Nightwing looked down. Far below him, a weak straggler wandered down the sidewalk. He was a sorry sight to see.
"What's the point?" the straggler was crying out. "What's the point anymore? The streets are empty; the good are dead! They've won! What's the point?"
Nightwing frowned as he listened to the man's lamentation. He looked back up at the city skyline. Gotham sure looked peaceful—the way a corpse was.
Addendum: This chapter took a while again. Sorry. I had three exams in the past week. You could stick a fork in my brain; it's done.
The Arkham Knight got choked out twice in the span of a few hours. Cheryl would be jealous.