The city never slept. Not really. Gotham's streets hummed with a constant pulse — the flicker of broken streetlights, the distant wail of sirens, and the quiet whispers of those who thrived in the shadows. Tonight, Batman hunted those whispers.
Perched on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, he watched a group of thugs gather in a back alley below. The Joker's men. His lenses zoomed in, marking their faces against the GCPD database. Petty criminals, muscle for hire. But they'd do.
A grappling hook hissed through the night, silent and precise. The Dark Knight descended like a shadow. The first thug never saw him coming. A swift strike to the neck and the man crumpled. The second spun around, but a gloved fist caught him across the jaw, sending him sprawling. The last two barely had time to draw their guns before Batman stood between them, eyes glowing beneath his cowl.
"Where's the Joker?" Batman's voice cut through the darkness.
The first thug, a lanky man with sunken eyes, stumbled back, palms raised. "I—I don't know! I swear!"
Batman grabbed him by the collar, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. "Wrong answer."
"I don't know, man! He vanished after the docks went up in flames. No one's seen him since!" The thug squirmed, his boots scraping against the brick wall.
Batman held him there for a long moment before dropping him to the ground. The man gasped, clutching his throat. Batman turned to the second thug, a scarred brute with a crooked nose. "What about you?"
The thug hesitated, looking around as if the shadows might offer a way out. "Look… all I heard is he's after that magician guy. Hisoka."
Batman's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Word is, Hisoka took Harley and humiliated Joker in front of his men. Boss hasn't been the same since." The thug wiped his brow, eyes darting nervously. "Said he's gonna make the magician pay."
Batman processed the information, his mind already working through the possibilities. "Where's Scarecrow?"
"Probably at his lab, cookin' up some new nightmare juice." The thug chuckled nervously. "Crazy bastard loves his science projects."
Batman stepped back, letting the silence hang. The thugs shifted uneasily. Without another word, he vanished into the darkness.
From the rooftops, he activated his communicator. "Oracle. Joker's targeting Hisoka. Scarecrow might be involved."
"Got it. Sending you the lab's coordinates now."
As the Batwing's engines roared to life, Batman narrowed his eyes. Whatever game Joker was playing, it was only just beginning.
---
The Batwing sliced through Gotham's night sky, engines whisper-quiet against the wind. Batman's hands moved across the controls with practiced ease, eyes locked on the coordinates Oracle had sent. Scarecrow's lab sat nestled in the ruins of an old industrial district — a perfect breeding ground for nightmares.
The comm buzzed in his ear. "Batman, it's Ivy."
"Go ahead."
"I've been analyzing the toxin. It's complex, but not impossible to counteract." Her voice was cool, clinical. "Inhalation is the primary method of transmission. Prolonged skin contact might have effects, but I'll need more time to be sure."
"Could it contaminate Gotham's water supply?"
Ivy hesitated. "Possible. The chemical structure shows resilience in liquid environments. If Crane's refining it, he could create something more… enduring."
Batman's jaw tightened. "How long do you need for an antidote?"
"I'll know more once I analyze his latest batch. Bring me a sample."
"Understood." He cut the comm and angled the Batwing downward, the derelict factory looming beneath him. A soft thump marked his landing on the rooftop. The night air reeked of rust and decay. He slipped into the shadows.
The building groaned under its own weight. Shattered windows and corroded metal beams created jagged silhouettes against the moonlight. He moved silently, grappling to a second-story window. The flicker of a computer screen painted the lab in a sickly green hue.
Inside, Scarecrow hunched over a cluttered workbench, muttering to himself. Beakers bubbled. A centrifuge whirred softly. Crane's thin frame shifted in the dim glow, every movement sharp and twitchy. Batman slid through the vent, landing without a sound.
A few silent steps. A flick of the wrist. The Batarang sailed through the darkness, striking the breaker box. The lights died.
"W-What?" Crane spun, eyes wide in the gloom.
The screen's glow barely pierced the dark. A shadow moved. Silent. Relentless. The darkness itself seemed to breathe.
"Who's there?" Crane's voice wavered. He fumbled for something on his desk. The screen's pale light cast Batman's silhouette against the wall — a horned demon born from the abyss.
"What are you plotting, Crane?" Batman's voice rumbled low.
Crane gasped, backing into the workbench. "Batman… Always ruining my fun." He grabbed a glass canister, fingers trembling. "You wouldn't understand. Fear is the ultimate teacher."
"Last chance." Batman stepped closer. "What's your plan with Joker?"
Crane smirked. "Oh, you'll see soon enough."
He hurled the canister. It shattered at Batman's feet, erupting in a thick cloud of green gas. Batman's cowl filters hissed as they activated. He strode through the haze, unfazed.
Scarecrow blinked. "No… No, that's impossible!"
Batman lunged, grabbing Crane by the collar and slamming him against the wall. "Talk."
Crane clawed at Batman's grip, feet kicking uselessly. "Joker wants the magician. He wants the city to know there's only room for one clown."
"Where?" Batman demanded.
Crane laughed. "Do you really think anyone knows what goes on in Joker's mind?"
Batman's fist tightened. "You're helping him."
"I'm giving him tools. What he does with them… well, that's art." Crane grinned, teeth glinting in the dark. "But you're too late. Joker's already set his trap. Your little magician friend won't see it coming."
Batman growled. "We'll see about that."
Crane lunged again, flailing with a syringe. Batman knocked it aside and drove his elbow into Crane's gut. The doctor crumpled, gasping for air.
With Crane subdued, Batman moved to the computer. His gauntlet interface hummed as he downloaded every file. The progress bar crawled forward. He glanced at Crane, unconscious on the floor. The toxin vials clinked softly as he slipped a sample into his belt.
The download completed. Batman activated his comm. "Ivy, I'm sending you Crane's files. Work fast."
"Already waiting." Her voice was calm, focused. "And the sample?"
"On its way."
Batman secured Crane with a zip tie and hauled him over his shoulder. The trip to GCPD would be quick. Gordon needed to know what was coming.
As he carried Crane into the night, Batman's mind raced. Joker had a plan. Hisoka was in the crosshairs. And Gotham trembled on the edge of madness.
The darkness felt heavier than usual,
The Bat-Signal burned against the night sky as Batman landed silently on the rooftop of the Gotham City Police Department. Commissioner Gordon stood near the edge, trench coat flapping in the wind, cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He turned as Batman approached, hauling Scarecrow's body over his shoulder.
"Crane." Gordon exhaled, flicking his cigarette onto the rooftop. "What did he do this time?"
Batman dropped Scarecrow at Gordon's feet. "Tried to gas me. Didn't work."
"Lucky you." Gordon knelt, checking Crane's pulse. "Still breathing. Guess tonight wasn't a total loss." He stood and rubbed his temples. "You find out what Joker's up to?"
"Pieces of it." Batman's voice was low. "Joker's after Hisoka."
"Hisoka?" Gordon frowned. "The magician? Thought he was just another freak in town."
"He humiliated Joker. Took Harley. Made him look weak." Batman's gaze darkened. "Joker doesn't take kindly to humiliation."
Gordon sighed. "So, what? Another city-wide manhunt? Explosives in the sewers? Giant laughing balloons? What's the angle this time?"
"Fear." Batman gestured toward Crane's unconscious body. "Joker's using Scarecrow's toxin. Upgraded. Stronger. Ivy's working on an antidote."
"Ivy?" Gordon's brow furrowed. "Since when do you trust her?"
"She wants Joker out of the picture as much as we do." Batman's tone left no room for argument. "Right now, she's our best shot at countering this."
Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright. What do you need from me?"
"Lock Crane in Blackgate. Maximum security." Batman's eyes narrowed. "No Arkham transfers. No psychiatrist interviews. Crane's toxin is out there, and I need him off the board."
"Understood." Gordon nodded to a pair of officers by the rooftop door. They moved in, cuffing Crane and hauling him inside. Gordon turned back to Batman.
"What else?"
"Joker's plan isn't just about Hisoka." Batman stepped toward the ledge, gaze scanning the city skyline. "He wants to remind Gotham who the real king of chaos is. Expect carnage. Random attacks. Distractions."
Gordon exhaled slowly. "Another long night."
"Longer than you think." Batman glanced at the horizon. "Double patrols. Secure all water treatment plants. If Ivy's right, the toxin could be weaponized beyond gas form."
"Jesus." Gordon rubbed the back of his neck. "And here I thought we were overdue for a quiet week."
Batman turned, the shadows swallowing him. "Quiet doesn't last in Gotham."
Before Gordon could respond, Batman fired his grapple, vanishing into the night.
Gordon watched him go, pulling out another cigarette. "Yeah," he muttered. "Tell me about it."