The electronics store was quiet. Too quiet. The soft whimpering and the occasional chuckles, the buzzing and flickering of broken screens, cut through the silence. Batman moved carefully, boots crunching over shattered glass. The store had been torn apart—shelves overturned, merchandise scattered across the floor. The walls were smeared with streaks of blood and desperate claw marks.
The bodies told the story. One man slumped against a display case, fingers curled like claws, mouth frozen in a twisted grin. Another lay face down, his hands gripping his own throat. Near the back, a couple sat pressed against each other, arms intertwined. Neither moved. Their eyes were wide open, frozen in terror.
Batman pressed his lips into a thin line. He stepped carefully over the wreckage, scanning for survivors. That's when he heard it—the soft, wet sound of someone gasping for air.
He turned.
In the corner, a man huddled against the wall, knees pulled tight to his chest. His chest heaved with each ragged breath. Sweat soaked his shirt, and his eyes darted wildly, tracking invisible threats. His mouth stretched into a grin far too wide, but there was no joy in it. His face twisted with fear.
Batman knelt beside him. The man flinched, curling tighter into himself.
"Hey," Batman said quietly. "You're safe now."
The man trembled. Tears streamed down his face, cutting through the grime. He choked back a sob. Batman rested a hand on his shoulder, grounding him.
"Breathe," Batman said. "Focus. Who did this?"
The man's mouth opened, but no words came out. His body convulsed with dry heaves, fingers clawing at the floor. Batman tightened his grip.
"Look at me." His voice was firm, cutting through the haze. "Who did this?"
The man gasped, eyes locking onto Batman's. His lips moved soundlessly, his throat bobbing as if trying to force out the answer. Then he started to laugh. It was dry, broken, more like a wheeze than anything else. He slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but the laughter wouldn't stop. It spilled out in uneven bursts, tears streaming faster down his face.
"Please…" the man whispered between gasps. "Make it stop… they won't stop laughing."
Batman frowned. The man wasn't laughing. His body shook with fear, but his face was locked in that unnatural grin.
"Fear and… laughter?" Batman muttered.
He stood, scanning the bodies once more. Some had clawed at their own faces, fingernails cracked and bloody. One man had bitten clean through his lip. The couple near the wall… they held each other tightly, but their faces were frozen in smiles.
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Batman."
He turned. Commissioner Gordon stood near the entrance, trench coat trailing behind him. His face was pale under the flickering lights.
"You're here," Gordon said, glancing around the carnage. "Come—we don't have much time."
Batman followed him to the back room. The security monitors cast a sickly glow, their flickering screens showing frozen glimpses of the store in chaos. Gordon hit rewind, eyes flicking to Batman before pressing play.
The footage crackled to life. The Joker strolled into the store, hands in his pockets, whistling some off-key melody. He paused near the counter, pulled out a small canister, and held it up like a prize. Then, with a theatrical spin, he tossed it into the air. The gas exploded in a greenish cloud.
People screamed. Some dropped to the floor, clutching their heads. Others laughed uncontrollably, eyes darting around in terror. Joker danced through the madness, arms outstretched, cackling as bodies fell around him. Then, as casually as he'd entered, he strolled out the door, still whistling.
The footage cut off. Gordon rubbed his eyes.
"Every time I think I've seen the worst of him…" Gordon shook his head. "He finds a way to make it worse."
Batman stared at the screen. His jaw tightened.
"It's not just Joker."
Gordon frowned. "What?"
Batman didn't answer. He turned and walked toward the exit. Gordon hurried after him.
"Hey! What do you mean 'it's not just Joker'? What the hell is going on here?"
Batman kept moving, eyes scanning the scene. "I'm not sure."
"Not sure?" Gordon snapped. "The Joker is your specialty. You must have some idea!"
Batman stopped. "I need the canister."
"The canister?" Gordon blinked. "What for?"
Batman turned, meeting Gordon's eyes. He said nothing.
Gordon ran a hand through his hair. "Fine. But you owe me answers."
Batman took the canister, its surface still cold to the touch. The green residue inside shimmered faintly under the lights. As he turned to leave, Gordon called after him.
"Hey!"
Batman paused.
"What do I tell the families?" Gordon asked quietly. "What do I say to the people of this city?"
Batman looked back. For a moment, there was silence. Then he spoke.
"Tell them I'll stop him."
Before Gordon could respond, Batman disappeared into the night.
The Batcave was silent, save for the low hum of computers and the distant drip of water from stalactites. Shadows danced along the stone walls, broken only by the soft glow of the Batcomputer's monitors. Batman moved with purpose, each step echoing faintly as he placed the canister beneath a glass dome. The filtration system hissed to life, locking the contaminated object in a vacuum-sealed environment.
He activated the scanners. The machinery whirred, robotic arms gliding into position. Thin beams of light swept over the metal surface, feeding data directly into the Batcomputer. On the screen, numbers scrolled past in rapid succession. Molecular structures twisted and shifted, the computer deconstructing the residue down to its base components.
Batman stood motionless, eyes fixed on the screen. His mind raced, piecing together what he already knew, what he suspected, and what the evidence might reveal.
"Gas," he muttered, voice low. "Compressed into liquid form. Released on impact."
From across the room, a voice broke the quiet. "Obviously."
Batman didn't turn. "Ivy."
Pamela Isley sat perched on the edge of a metal workstation, arms crossed. The plants around the cave shifted slightly in her presence, their leaves curling toward her like loyal pets. Her green eyes glimmered with amusement as she watched Batman work.
"I didn't peg you for someone who states the obvious," she said, leaning forward. "Next you'll tell me it disperses through aerosolization."
Batman ignored her, pulling on a pair of gloves. The scanner beeped, signaling the first round of analysis. He opened the containment dome and carefully extracted a small vial of residue from the canister. The liquid shimmered faintly under the lights—dark green, almost black. He placed it into a separate chamber, sealing the container before tapping a command into the computer. The machine hummed louder, analyzing the sample at a molecular level.
Seconds stretched into minutes. Batman watched the screen as chemical structures unfolded before him. His jaw tightened.
"There's residue," he said softly. "Enough for a sample."
"Well, that's convenient." Ivy slid off the table, her bare feet making no sound against the stone floor as she moved beside him. "Find anything interesting?"
Batman didn't answer. His eyes flicked across the data. The computer chirped softly. Results flashed onto the screen.
Batman stiffened. His brow furrowed.
"No… not possible."
Ivy arched an eyebrow. "Care to share with the class?"
Batman's fingers danced over the keys, enlarging the chemical readouts. Two molecular structures appeared side by side, rotating slowly. One was jagged and chaotic, shifting unpredictably. The other was more orderly, but no less deadly. His eyes narrowed.
"Two matches." His voice was quiet, almost disbelieving. "Two toxins. One altered."
Ivy leaned in, examining the data. "Okay, I'll bite. What am I looking at?"
Batman tapped the first structure. "Scarecrow's fear toxin."
Ivy frowned. "And the other?"
Batman hesitated for a moment. Then he tapped the second structure. The screen shifted, pulling up old case files and chemical records. A familiar grin flickered across the screen—frozen in time, skin bleached white, eyes wild with glee.
"Joker Venom," Batman muttered. "I knew it."
Ivy let out a low whistle. "Well, that's a party I wouldn't want an invite to."
Batman's jaw tightened. "They've combined them."
Ivy stared at the screen. "Fear and madness. The perfect cocktail."
Batman's mind raced. Fear toxin overwhelmed the nervous system, inducing terror. Joker Venom forced uncontrollable laughter, twisting the body's natural responses. Combining the two… it was insanity. Victims would be paralyzed with fear, unable to stop laughing even as they felt their minds unravel.
He turned to Ivy. "The chemical bonds have been altered. Scarecrow's formula has been stabilized with compounds found in Joker's venom." He pointed to the screen. "See these markers? Joker's toxin normally breaks down quickly in air. But this… this is reinforced. It lingers."
Ivy crossed her arms, studying the data. "So they're not just working together. They're improving each other's work."
Batman's eyes darkened. "They're weaponizing fear."
Ivy exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "Lovely." She leaned against the console. "So what's the plan, detective? Scowl at it until it behaves?"
Batman ignored the jab. His mind was already racing ahead, calculating possibilities. "I need a cure."
"Of course you do." Ivy tilted her head. "Lucky for you, you've got a biologist in the house."
Batman glanced at her. "You're offering to help?"
She smirked. "I wouldn't call it 'offering.' More like… evening the score." She gestured toward the canister. "I'll analyze the toxins further. Maybe even whip up a plant-based antidote. I am a genius, after all."
Batman hesitated. Trust wasn't a luxury he afforded easily. But right now, time was against him. He nodded.
"I'd appreciate it."
Ivy's smirk widened. "Let's call it even."
As Ivy moved to the workstation, Batman turned back to the screen. The Joker and Scarecrow… working together. He clenched his fists. This was more than chaos. This was calculated.
He tapped a control, sending the data to the Batcomputer's archives. Then he activated his comm.
"Alfred."
"Sir?"
"Seal the cave." Batman glanced at Ivy. "We're dealing with a biohazard."
"Understood. Shall I prepare containment procedures?"
"Do it." Batman's eyes narrowed at the screen. "I need to find them."
Alfred hesitated. "And if you do?"
Batman's voice was cold. "I'll make sure they never work together again."
The Batcave hummed with quiet tension. Ivy worked silently, plants curling toward her as she manipulated the samples. Batman stood watch, eyes locked on the screen. Somewhere out there, the Joker was laughing.
Batman wasn't.
The rain tapped steadily against the glass, the city beyond shrouded in shadows. The GCPD building stood like a fortress against the storm, its windows casting pale light onto the rain-slick streets below.
In his office, Commissioner Gordon sat hunched over his desk, eyes heavy with exhaustion. The precinct hummed faintly outside his door—phones ringing, footsteps echoing, officers barking orders—but in here, it was quiet. The only sound was the steady drip of rain trailing down the window.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The night had been long, and the reports scattered across his desk painted an all-too-familiar picture: chaos, fear, and the Joker's signature brand of madness. The store was a war zone. Twelve victims, two dead. And that wasn't even the worst of it.
He reached for his cold coffee, only to pause. A chill crept up his spine.
Something was wrong.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Slowly, he turned his gaze to the window. The rain smeared the glass, but behind the streaks of water… there was a shadow.
A shape.
Before he could reach for his gun, the window slid open with a soft hiss. The cold night air swept into the office. Gordon's heart pounded. He grabbed the desk lamp and swung it toward the intruder.
"Damn it, Batman!"
The Dark Knight stood motionless, half-hidden in the shadows. His cape billowed slightly as the wind whispered through the open window. For a moment, the only sound was the rain. Then, without a word, Batman stepped inside, boots landing silently on the floor. Gordon set the lamp down with a heavy sigh.
"You know, most people use doors."
Batman said nothing. He reached into his belt and pulled out a metal canister, setting it on the desk with a dull clunk. The Commissioner frowned.
"What's this?"
"Two toxins." Batman's voice was low, almost a growl.
Gordon squinted. "What do you mean?"
Batman turned the canister slowly, letting the faint green residue glimmer under the light. "Scarecrow's fear gas… mixed with Joker's venom."
Gordon paled. He sank back into his chair, running a hand through his thinning hair. "Jesus." He rubbed his eyes. "You're telling me those two psychos are working together?"
Batman shook his head. "Not yet. But someone's using their work."
"Great," Gordon muttered, rubbing his face. "Gotham wasn't bad enough already. Now we've got some new lunatic on the loose, wreaking havoc. And now we have maniacs joining forces?" He glanced at Batman. "Tell me the truth, Bat. How bad is this?"
Batman stared down at the canister, the green residue swirling like poison. His jaw tightened.
"Extremely."
Gordon let out a long breath. "Can you stop it?"
Batman turned toward the window, the rain pattering softly against the glass.
"I'll try."
Gordon stood. "Try?" He scoffed. "Since when do you 'try'?"
Batman paused, eyes narrowing. He could still hear the echoes of laughter from the store. The bodies. The fear. The smiles frozen on their faces. He tightened his fists.
"Even if I can't do this alone."
Gordon walked away rubbing his eyes...waiting for the Bat to elaborate.
Batman stepped onto the window ledge, his silhouette cutting against the night. He glanced back over his shoulder, voice barely more than a whisper.
"They can help."
Gordon's eyebrows frowned and as he was turning back he asked : "They!? who are you ta–... talking about..."
But when he turned, the office was empty. The rain blew in through the open window, chilling the room. Gordon sighed, slumping back into his chair. He stared at the canister, its green residue glimmering faintly under the flickering lights.
"God help us."