Gotham's Story

Things have not gone as planned. You though the Joker was done for good, but you could not have been more wrong. Almost as soon as you began to make appearances again, the Joker came out of his catatonic state in Arkam. His killing spree traced across Gotham until you traced it to a carnival. You can still see the tortured smiles on the deceased children's faces whenever you close your eyes. It took some dong, but you got the Joker alone with you in the tunnel of a water ride.
It must have been your old age that allowed it to happen because that mad clown jabbed you with his knife and you started to bleed. Bad. All he did was laugh at you and run. He shot off randomly when he would see another innocent and you began to lose control.
"No more!" you said. "No more deaths!"
You leapt at him and grabbed him by the chin and turn his neck swiftly until you hear a deafening crack. You haven't completely lost control, however, because you didn't kill the clown; you just paralyzed him. In a maddening turn of events, though, the Joker reared his muscles and snapped his own thread of life. You look around and realize that there are no witnesses. No one to confirm that the Joker killed himself. It looked like you killed him, and though no one would blame you, you've crossed a line. You've crossed a line that no superhero should take the liberty to do.
Now, as you sit on the Wayne estates, a blazing word made by heat vision appears on the field- right on schedule.
'Where?'
You and Clark- or Superman as Metropolis calls him- have always known that you would never turn in your cape easily. You know the rules: if a hero crosses the line, it's up to the rest of them to put him down. It's going to be a fight. And a big one at that.
"Crime Alley," you whisper. "Midnight."

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