The night is cold and crisp in Gotham City, the kind of night that makes the shadows seem deeper and the dangers more imminent. Red Hood, his iconic helmet reflecting the dim streetlights, moves silently across the rooftops of the East End, his gaze fixed on the courthouse below. It's a building steeped in history, once a symbol of justice, now just another relic of a city caught in the grip of chaos.

But tonight, it's more than just an old courthouse. It's a hideout for one of Gotham's most notorious criminals—Harvey Dent, formerly the city's crusading district attorney, now twisted into the villainous Two-Face. Red Hood knows Dent well, perhaps too well, and he's prepared for the danger that comes with hunting him down.

Red Hood crouches low on the edge of the roof, his eyes narrowing as he surveys the scene below. Two-Face's men are posted at every entrance, their guns at the ready, their faces hardened by years of working under Gotham's most unhinged criminal minds. But they're nothing compared to their boss—Dent himself. Somewhere inside that courthouse, the former DA is flipping his signature coin, deciding the fate of his next victims. And Red Hood is determined to stop him before that coin hits the ground.

With a silent leap, Red Hood drops down from the rooftop, landing in the alleyway behind the courthouse. He moves swiftly and silently, using the shadows to his advantage as he approaches the back entrance. The two guards stationed there don't even have time to react before he's upon them, his combat training making quick work of their defenses. A flash of red and black, and they're down, unconscious before they hit the ground.

Red Hood slips inside the courthouse, his senses on high alert. The interior is dark, the only light coming from the flickering bulbs overhead. The place is a maze of corridors and abandoned offices, but Red Hood knows exactly where to go. Dent would be in the main courtroom, where he once prosecuted Gotham's worst criminals—before becoming one of them himself.

As Red Hood makes his way through the building, he hears voices echoing down the hallway. He moves closer, his hand resting on one of his pistols as he listens in. Dent's gruff voice carries through the silence, punctuated by the sharp clink of his coin as it flips through the air.

Harvey Dent: "Life or death, heads or tails… it's all just a game of chance. And tonight, I hold the cards."

Red Hood's jaw tightens as he hears Dent's words. He's heard them before, too many times, and he knows what they mean. Two-Face is about to make a decision that could cost someone their life—and Red Hood isn't going to let that happen.

He bursts into the courtroom, his pistols drawn, his eyes locked on the figure standing at the center of the room. Harvey Dent, clad in his usual two-toned suit, stands behind the judge's bench, his scarred face illuminated by the pale light streaming through the broken windows. In one hand, he holds his infamous coin, the other a gun pointed at a terrified hostage—an unlucky citizen who had the misfortune of crossing Dent's path.

Red Hood: "Drop the gun, Dent. You're not killing anyone tonight."

Dent's eyes flicker to Red Hood, his scarred lips curling into a twisted smile. He doesn't lower the gun, but he stops flipping the coin, his gaze locked on the vigilante standing in the doorway.

Harvey Dent: "Jason… or should I say Red Hood now? Always one to crash a party. But you're too late. The coin's already in the air."

Red Hood doesn't flinch, his voice steady and cold as he takes a step forward, his guns trained on Dent.

Red Hood: "Doesn't have to end this way, Dent. Let the hostage go, and maybe I'll let you walk out of here."

Dent chuckles darkly, the sound reverberating through the empty courtroom.

Harvey Dent: "We both know that's not how this works. My life's a gamble, and the odds are never in anyone's favor. But you… you've always been one to take risks. So, what's it gonna be, Hood? Heads or tails?"

Red Hood knows better than to play Dent's game, but he also knows that trying to reason with him is a lost cause. He's dealt with Two-Face enough times to understand that once the coin is in the air, Dent's mind is made up. But tonight, Red Hood isn't going to let Dent's madness take another life.

Without warning, Red Hood fires a shot, his bullet knocking the coin out of the air before it can land. The sound of the gunshot echoes through the room, and Dent's eyes widen in shock as he watches his precious coin clatter to the floor. For a moment, the courtroom is silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

Dent snarls in rage, firing his gun at Red Hood as he dives for cover behind the judge's bench. The hostage, seeing an opportunity, scrambles to safety, leaving Red Hood and Two-Face to their deadly dance. Bullets fly as Red Hood moves swiftly, dodging Dent's shots and returning fire with precision. The courtroom is filled with the sounds of gunfire and shattering wood as the two combatants battle for control.

Red Hood knows he has to end this quickly. Dent is a skilled marksman, but he's also unhinged, his decisions driven by the flip of a coin rather than strategy. Red Hood, on the other hand, is methodical, his every move calculated to bring Dent down.

As Dent reloads, Red Hood takes his chance. He leaps over the bench, closing the distance between them in an instant. He knocks Dent's gun from his hand with a swift kick, sending it skidding across the floor. Dent roars in frustration, throwing a wild punch that Red Hood easily dodges. With a quick twist, Red Hood grabs Dent's arm, using his own momentum against him as he slams him into the ground.

Dent struggles, but Red Hood's grip is like iron. He pins the former DA to the floor, his knee pressing into Dent's back as he yanks his hands behind him, securing them with a pair of handcuffs.

Red Hood: "It's over, Dent. You're going back to Arkham where you belong."

Dent lies still for a moment, his breath ragged, his face twisted in pain and defeat. But even in his subdued state, there's a glimmer of defiance in his eyes. He may be captured, but Red Hood knows this won't be the last time they cross paths.

Harvey Dent (muttering): "You think you're any better than me, Jason? We're both just playing the odds. Difference is… I'm honest about it."

Red Hood tightens the cuffs, his voice low and edged with a mix of anger and sadness.

Red Hood: "Maybe. But I'm not the one flipping a coin to decide who lives and who dies."

With Dent secured, Red Hood stands, taking a deep breath as he surveys the wreckage of the courtroom. The hostage is safe, Dent is subdued, but there's no sense of victory—only the cold, grim satisfaction of a job done. As he drags Dent to his feet, Red Hood knows that Gotham's struggles are far from over. But for tonight, at least, he's made sure that Harvey Dent won't be making any more decisions based on the flip of a coin.

As they leave the courthouse, Red Hood casts one last glance at the place where Dent once fought for justice. It's a bitter reminder of what Gotham does to even the best of its citizens. But Red Hood has long since accepted the darkness of this city—and he's more than ready to keep fighting it, one criminal at a time.