The "World Of Heroes" DC RPG Season V

Luthor contacts Governor Gatling and asks, "So Governor have you given my options concerning Gotham any thought?"

Governor Gatling replies, "Well Mr. President not many of my collegaues here are going to like these options. They are basically out of the loop."

Luthor replies, "I understand that however these are desperate times,and they call for extreme measures."

Gatling says, "I need more time sir."

Luthor says, "All-right I'll give you some more time."

He hangs up the phone and contacts CIA director Albert Simmons. He says, "Albert I need a favor...your best black op agents within 20 miles of Gotham send them to Gotham. Do not engage the Bat, but I want you to capture...capture only...the Joker."

Simmons replies, "Capture the Joker? What you ask is difficult."

Luthor says, "Do it Albert your job is riding on this one."

He hangs up the phone.
 
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His heart stops. His heart feels cold. His heart is dead...He wasn't there to witness his first son's death. When he left to chase down Black Manta, he thought his baby had already died...but he wasn't there when Artie Jr. actually died back in the palace after the doctor's tried everything to get him to start breathing once more...He wasn't there.

Sometimes, in hindsight...he thanks the gods that he wasn't. The thought of seeing his baby son struggle to live on and breathe...would've ate away at his heart completely, forever changing him. He fears he would've wanted to taste vengeance just that much more; to the point where he would do anything for it. One death would turn into few, and few would turn into many...until, perhaps even his own friends and allies would have to come to stop him. Stop him from his undying rage and anguish. But they are not here now, and he is here this time...as he loses yet another son.

He begins to swim, without even thought, his heart still cold and dead; it's as if he feels nothing at all. Not joy, not sorrow, not even the friction of the waves as he picks up his speed. He is an animal, savage and wild. He is a hunter, only focusing on the target ahead of him; his prey.

"Fa...fa...father..."

Even in ancient times, at time of war...there was an understanding concerning the dying and the dead. Some would say it was about respect an honor amongst enemies, others would call it just a courtesy from one side to the other when a comrade has fallen. But when it came to the death of royal blood, a death of say...a prince in battle? It is without question, without any thought...that his remains be given back to his country and his kingdom; allowing his family to once more see him, and to hold him in their arms before they prepare for his funeral.

But Triton does not plan on giving Orin the right. His smile widens, and the trident begins to glow as he summons forth power...power to blast Koryak into oblivion.

"I told you not too long ago I'd have you cry out for your father! Hahahaha!"

Triton's laugh amplifies in volume as his attack is almost ready, with Koryak's lifeless body hung over. But Orin is just in the nick of time, as he attacks Triton, pulling his arm back and thrusting it forth with a mighty punch. The impact disrupts Triton's spell, and as he is pushed back, so is his grip on the trident.

King Shark, who became as savage as his own kin and ancestors was even among the ranks when Orin called out aid. Before it was as if he had lost all types of intelligence; his mind went truly lost in the pools of blood in the water. But the lust that fueled him had faded, making his mind as vulnerable as any other shark. So there he is, like an average shark among many, as they slowly begin to swim towards Koryak's dead body. But even the most dangerous of sharks do not attack Koryak, not even with all the blood pouring from his flesh. A higher power now commands them. All the sea creatures in the vicinity of the battlefield now open up a path for an unknown figure; a path leading to Koryak.

Orin doesn't allow Triton just take the impacts of his attacks to fly backward into some far off building. Orin picks up his speed as Triton flies back, only to come face to face with him once more, and punch him with his other hand. He continues to do so, never giving Triton time to recover from the blows, nor allowing him the possibility of striking or countering back.

He never pulls back a punch, and he never thinks of the consequences. He is fueled by rage and anger alone, giving Triton everything he's got. Were it possible underwater, his tears would be flying back from the intense speed, rather than drop downward, as this father of the deep avenges his son. He is relentless, and as Hades said it to him oh so long ago...he is as relentless as the tides. Just as the waves smash against the rocks over and over again, so do Orin's fists.

Even the impact of his blows seems to echo throughout the destroyed city, and with Triton crashing through building after building, it grabs Vulko's attention in the hospital wing of the royal palace. Mera awakes from her sudden faint from earlier, and finds Vulko looking out the window.

"Is...is the battle still being waged, Vulko?"


"I--I...."

Orin was afraid this could happen to him. At one point, any hero, king, or guardian would be faced with such a trial of temptation. He just witnessed the death of someone close to him, at first hand. He always told himself not to push himself to this state, that he would not allow himself to enter this fit of raw rage and power. But, as are all things, this came unexpected.

"Vulko. Is that fighting I hear outside of these walls? Still, the battle continues?"


To call what is going on a fight, would be lying. For in a fight, there is always someone fighting back; what this is is a slaughter. Triton's body comes crashing into the royal palace, and it seems that for a few seconds, he finally finds time to recover, if only for a few seconds. Triton tries to get up, grasping the arm of the royal throne to help him up, when Orin enters the palace throne room. He kicks Triton down, and goes down on one knee, gripping Triton's neck with both hands.

Gods. Orin starts to think about what it means to be a god, as he has this godling's neck wrapped around his hands. He's faced the wrath of the gods before, and he's met them face to face. In the surface world, some people look at the Justice League themselves and think of them as gods. And when on missions and adventures, he could always rely on his friends in the Justice League, to help keep each other in check, as well as himself. It would take a God to stop Orin from killing Triton now. But they are not here. The Justice League...is not here.

"STOP THIS AT ONCE!"



All the sea roars and from above them, it seems as if they can here the very storm clouds crack with thunder and lightning as Poseidon, clasping his trident in one hand, enters the throne room from the very same hole Orin made as he knocked Triton back. Behind him, follow the entire league of sea creatures, and within their ranks, Koryak's dead body; two sea manta rays allow Koryak to lie on their backs. And through the large and tall doors of the throne room, Mera enters with Vulko assisting her.
 
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Orin looks around, and finds himself surrounded by familiar faces. It isn't Poseidon's face that shocks him most; it is Mera's. The horrid expression, a result from what Orin was about to do, is all Orin needs to release his grip and stumble as he falls into his throne room. There are no words, say for Triton's faint whispering.

"Fi--Fi...Finish it..."

Orin covers his face in shame, and then quickly removes his hands as he inhales something most disgusting. He looks at his hands, and they are stained red with blood. For a few seconds, that's all he looks at. He doesn't even look down at Triton as he wishes Orin to end his pain; he is too taken aback by his own actions. Poseidon swims over to Orin, as if handing Orin his trident. Still, Orin's eyes are fixated on his own two hands.

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"I believe that is yours."

"Actually, as I recall I gave it to you. And that is only the beginning of my gifts, Sea King."


"Don't call me that."

"But that is who and what you are, Aquaman. Do you remember something I told you when we first met, all those years ago? I believe it was the day your first born son came into this world."

"Of course."

"I believe I said that 'the people believe in you, Aquaman. They call you Sea King. If mortals are in trouble, they pray for you to save them, not me. You are legendary while I am relegated to myth.'...yes those were my words."

Orin now looks over at Poseidon, his face almost changing with anger as he tries to keep calm.

"How can I ever forget? You made me choose...forced me into a position i didn't want any part of. The cries of Pakuul calling out to me will never cease to echo in my mind. Ever since the day you've placed that title upon my shoulders, my life began to spiral downward. And now I've lost my second son."

"Yes...but think about all the good you have accomplished. Just think. Wouldn't you agree it was time you earned something from it all? Earned something for all your struggles to be a selfless hero? Earn something in return for all your sacrifices?"

"What could you possibly be talking about now?"

Triton, weary and weak, tries to summon enough energy to merely look up at his father, barely able to even see. His eyes are swolen as they are bloody; beaten like a pulp.

"I offer you, Aquaman, the gift of immortality. such a--"


"NO! FATHER!"

Poseidon's head snaps back at Triton as he looks upon him in disgust.

"You never did learn to know your place, son. Now silence! We made a deal, and sadly, I am not surprised."

"You...you were counting on my failure?"

"All you have ever been to me is a thorn in my fin. How could a God such as I accept a son as you? Did you really think that after all you previously did, I would forgive you? The tides do not bow to you as they have never done, even when you betrayed me and claimed my power for your own. You knew the consequences, and you still took the risk. You have never proved you were able to compete with one such as Aquaman, and yet you continued, even in your 'matured' nature as you say, to think otherwise. Yes, my son. I had no faith in you. I wasn't counting on you to fail. I knew you would fail."

Triton is speechless as he takes in all that Poseidon says and before Poseidon can continue, Orin stands from this throne.

"All of this...you allowed all of this...just to prove something to your son?"

"Zeus decreed--"

"I DO NOT CARE WHAT ZEUS DECREED! THAT DIDN'T STOP ATHENA, DEMETER, AND HERMES FROM DOING WHAT WAS RIGHT IN THEIR MINDS, NOW DID IT? BUT YOU! YOU DID THIS FOR YOUR OWN PERSONAL GAIN!"

Mera moves forward to come to Orin's side, but he puts his arm out, and she stops. He sighs, takes a deep breath, and tries to calm down.

"You let him roam the seas like a violent storm...just for this? A game? A lesson to be learned? My kingdom...my...MY SON IS DEAD!"


"The events that took place were necessary to happen! Yes, the tragedy that has fallen upon your son was not intended. Nor do i think of it and feel anything other than sadness, but there were more important matters at hand."

"More...more important matters at hand? DO YOU NOT HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I'VE LOST?"

"Look at my son, Aquaman! Look at him! Surely, this is no legacy any father would pray for the morning they watch their son enter the world. I cannot have my legacy passed on to a son that isn't worthy! And you, overtime Aquaman, will age like all mortals do...and then you will die. Oh it well take time, for you Atlanteans do not age normally as most mortals...but you will die one day."

"So...this is what this is really all about then? Sons and legacies? I am not your son."

"No, you aren't. But you are the son I should've had. And I couldn't simply make you a diety, Aquaman. You had to earn the right and accept it."

"Earn it? A second ago you were speaking of all the things I've done to try to be a 'selfless hero' and defend all that I care about and that wasn't enough? You had to push me that much more over the edge? Well you wasted your time, old god. I have no desire for what you offer. A water diety? Some, guardian of the sea for your amusement so you can forget about your failure as a father? I should've known. A decision made by the gods is as worthless as the Gods themselves."


Orin sits back down into his throne. Posiedon glares at Orin in response to his rudeness, but does not react back. He merely takes a deep breath, and continues what he was saying earlier.

"Listen to my words, so that you will find the truth in them...such a thing, is rarely given to the likes of man. For man experiences his own type of immortality, oh yes. Immortality in man, comes from his children, and his children's children. But alas, there is a flaw."

"Yes, and I've been reminded that flaw now a second time."

"Exactly. But not the immortality of a God. No. You shall find no flaws in such a thing! And how would it feel to be the Sea King forever? For all eternity! Forever to be one with the sea as you watch over it until the world's end! And then...all shall known and fear your name...for you will truly be the King of the Seven Seas, never to step down from your throne. You could protect the ones you love without worry..."

Something happens to Orin, as his eyes seem to open wide, and something comes over him. The trident in Poseidon's hand glows, but not to the extant where it would becoming blinding or obvious that he is casting a spell; he has entered Orin's mind.

Orin's eyes close, and then they re-open, finding himself in his palace, but...something is different. The palace is in tip-top shape, and decorated beautifully. He looks down at his hands, and they are not scarred with blood. He is wearing his green gloves in fact. But what is most peculiar is when he removes his left glove. He sees his hand. It's as if he never lost it to the Charbydis all those years ago. He quickly puts the glove back on, still unable to believe it. That isn't all. He hears a baby crying in the distance, and walks over.

"Oh my--"

"He's beautiful, isn't he?"

Orin looks to his side, and sees Mera. She smiles, and embraces him in a hug. Orin smiles in response, and looks down at the baby as a tear runs down his face.

"He has his mother's eyes."

"But he has his father's strength and love. Orin! I finally decided a name for him. Arthur Junior, do you like it?"

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"Yes...it's perfect."

 
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Struggling to his feet, and spitting out a wad of floor, The Joker's face twisted into a leering grin.

"Oh you know me. I'd love nothing more than to share a giggle."

With a flick of the wrist, The Joker produced a stiletto knife from under his sleeve.

"I'll make you smile yet, Brucie...even if I have to cut the grin into your face myself!"

With a burst of maniacal laughter, The Joker lunged at Batman.

I move as fast as I can around Joker's swipes with his blade. As he pulls it back and stabs forward in a jab, I duck down and grab his hand between my arm and shoulder and twist, making him drop the knife. I throw a sharp uppercut, and he leaps into the air before dropping on the ground.

I turn back, grab the knife, and take it the blade, examining it.

"It would be hard to do that without a knife, wouldn't it?"
 
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I move as fast as I can around Joker's swipes with his blade. As he pulls it back and stabs forward in a jab, I duck down and grab his hand between my arm and shoulder and twist, making him drop the knife. I throw a sharp uppercut, and he leaps into the air before dropping on the ground.

I turn back, grab the knife, and take it the blade, examining it.

"It would be hard to do that without a knife, wouldn't it?"


Stumbling to his feet, spitting out blood, The Joker pulled out a large revolver from inside his jacket. He pointed it at Batman, flashing a devious grin.

"Tsk Tsk. Brucie, Brucie, Brucie. Always bringing a knife to a gunfight, eh? HA!"

The Joker pulled the trigger.
 
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Stumbling to his feet, spitting out blood, The Joker pulled out a large revolver from inside his jacket. He pointed it at Batman, flashing a devious grin.

"Tsk Tsk. Brucie, Brucie, Brucie. Always bringing a knife to a gunfight, eh? HA!"

The Joker pulled the trigger.

As Joker speaks, I take the knife and toss it straight, heading towards the barell of the gun. I leap to the side as I hear him laugh and the click of the trigger being pulled.
 
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As Joker speaks, I take the knife and toss it straight, heading towards the barell of the gun. I leap to the side as I hear him laugh and the click of the trigger being pulled.

With the chamber blocked, the gun was forced to backfire. Fragments of bullet and shrapnel sprayed backwards, lodging in The Joker's gut.

"..."

The gun dropped out of his hands, clattering against the steel platform. The Joker looked down at his stomach. His green waistcoat had now turned a dark red, with blood seeping out, and dripping in spatters onto the platform.

He looked up at Batman, with shock in his eyes, sheer surprise. He looked like a child who had just broken a toy.

"Heh. Joke's on me."

The Joker staggered backwards, and toppled over the guard-rail, plummeting into the chemicals below.
 
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With the chamber blocked, the gun was forced to backfire. Fragments of bullet and shrapnel sprayed backwards, lodging in The Joker's gut.

"..."

The gun dropped out of his hands, clattering against the steel platform. The Joker looked down at his stomach. His green waistcoat had now turned a dark red, with blood seeping out, and dripping in spatters onto the platform.

He looked up at Batman, with shock in his eyes, sheer surprise. He looked like a child who had just broken a toy.

"Heh. Joke's on me."

The Joker staggered backwards, and toppled over the guard-rail, plummeting into the chemicals below.

I watch as the gun explodes and tears holes into Joker's stomach. He drops down and I run after him, and watch as he plummets into the vat in a gruesome smash.
 
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I watch as the gun explodes and tears holes into Joker's stomach. He drops down and I run after him, and watch as he plummets into the vat in a gruesome smash.

The Joker splashed and sputtered, struggling to stay above the surface. The chemicals were already burning his skin, just like they did last time. But that was the least of his problems. All around him, a red pool was forming. His blood, his life-force, draining out into the chemicals. He could already feel his strength slipping.

Where the hell was Batman?

Surely by now, he'd have swooped down to the rescue, ready to send him packing back to Arkham. But there was no sign of him. Though his vision was starting to go blurry, The Joker could just about make out Batman, looming over the guard-rail, watching his last, futile grasps at life.

And then he understood.

Though it hurt like hell, though he felt his gut ripping as he did it, he couldn't help it. He laughed. A rasping, wheezing laugh that brought with it seeping blood that ran down the sides of his mouth.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The laugh was like ice, like his black soul escaping from his body. And it continued, even as he lost the energy to struggle, and his head began to sink under the murky surface of the chemicals. Finally, he was submerged entirely, and disappeared.

And then the laughter died.
 
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The Joker splashed and sputtered, struggling to stay above the surface. The chemicals were already burning his skin, just like they did last time. But that was the least of his problems. All around him, a red pool was forming. His blood, his life-force, draining out into the chemicals. He could already feel his strength slipping.

Where the hell was Batman?

Surely by now, he'd have swooped down to the rescue, ready to send him packing back to Arkham. But there was no sign of him. Though his vision was starting to go blurry, The Joker could just about make out Batman, looming over the guard-rail, watching his last, futile grasps at life.

And then he understood.

Though it hurt like hell, though he felt his gut ripping as he did it, he couldn't help it. He laughed. A rasping, wheezing laugh that brought with it seeping blood that ran down the sides of his mouth.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The laugh was like ice, like his black soul escaping from his body. And it continued, even as he lost the energy to struggle, and his head began to sink under the murky surface of the chemicals. Finally, he was submerged entirely, and disappeared.

And then the laughter died.

I looked down as Joker laughs, looking straight into me. His wound is fatal, he's drowning, and I can't risk going in without drowning myself.

I can't save him--even if I wanted to.

He starts dropping into the vat. The only thing that comes back is his flower and jacket, which bursts into flame from the chemicals. Then the vat, apparently automatically, operated by machine, empties into a pit.

He's dead. The Joker is dead.

"Good," I whisper, and spit into his chemical grave.
 
Bruce Wayne was alive.

Waves of relief swept over Gordon as he drove to the Ace chemical plant. Bruce had called him, said he was okay, and told him where to find him. He'd specifically asked for no back-up. He wanted to pick Bruce alone. Reckless? Possibly. But Gordon and The Joker were both in on Bruce Wayne's secret. The truth about who he really was. Who knows what The Joker had done that might endanger that secret if too many people were sniffing around...

And so Gordon was alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company. He hadn't been home in 2 days now. Would Barbara still be waiting for him when he got back? He couldn't afford to worry about that now. There were larger issues than his own personal affairs to deal with right now.

He brought the car to a halt outside the chemical plant, where Bruce Wayne was waiting. Gordon got out of the car.

"Bruce? Where's The Joker?"
 
It was hours before Joe heard signs of life coming from behind the door again. With his throbbing head feeling several sizes too big, he looked up to see who was paying him a visit. His utter surprise stirring him back to his senses, Joe honestly didn't know what to say at the sight of the small teddy bear walking into the room on its own. Toyman? he wondered. He watched with captivation as the toy bear slowly walked to his chair and unfastened his restraints.

Flexing his hands to get the blood flowing after hours and hours of disuse, Joe reached down and picked up the bear. He squeezed it gently to feel for any explosives or death machines concealed inside, and, satisfied, turned it to look at its cute stuffed face.

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"Run."

For a moment, Martin simply stared at the toy in his hands as the single word it spoke seemed to chill the heart of the Atomic Skull. Without wasting another second, Joe dropped the bear and ran to the door, quietly poking his head out to see if the coast was clear. Not seeing anyone in either direction, he closed the door behind him and ran down the hallway to his right, coming to a grate in the upper wall leading to a ventilation duct. I'm a sitting duck out here in the hall, he thought, as he climbed into the duct and pulled the grating back in place once he was in. Looks like I got in here just in time. More voices were coming his way from down the hallway.

"No, no, no, Tryon took one of the Riot copies along with him for backup."

"They're trying to track Mongul through China, though. I mean, c'mon, it's not exactly like either of those idiots knows the lay of the land around there. Plus, who's to say that either of them'll come back alive?"

The voices only sounded vaguely familiar to Joe as he listened in.

"I still say that Neutron should'a taken along Barrage too, and maybe that witch Misa. I could do without having to work with her for a few days."

"Oh, ye have little faith, my compadre'." Joe suddenly felt like such an idiot for not recognizing the voices before as the two men came in sight of his place in the vent: The Prankster and Anomaly, a psychotic ex-children's television host and a man whose body could take on the properties of any substance he came in contact with.

"Neutron and Riot have enough entertainment value all by themselves to prove worthwhile for that big yellow ape. If firepower were all we were interested in sending to impress Mongul with, then we would've sent Bizarro or the Silver Banshee instead. No, my friend, we just want to whet his appetite and peak his interest. After that, he'll come on his own accord," laughed the maniac as he patted Anomaly on the back.

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"But Prankster, I really don't kn--"

"Listen!" Loomis cut off his companion. "This doesn't come from me. You know as well as I do that Noble's calling the shots around here. Not you. Not me. What he says goes, and I'm not about to question it."

Noble? Joe raised an eyebrow in confusion. Who the hell...? Never heard of him, but he must be some player if he's got these guys following his orders.

After waiting for the two villains to leave the scene, Joe crawled further into the vent, still pondering to himself. They've got a new Blackrock, Metallo, the Prankster, Riot, Neutron, Anomaly, and apparently Bizarro, Misa, Barrage, the Silver Banshee, and an unknown named Noble on this team. Plus they're trying to recruit Mongul from the sounds of it. I dunno where the Toyman fits into this with that Teddy Bear, and I still can't seem to use my powers thanks to Metallo's dampeners, I assume. He stopped in his tracks as the thought occurred to him, "Metallo. What was it he said before? They're just 'making a few extra bucks?'" Joe could almost hear the gears in his head turning. "There's got to be more to this than money, whether Metallo and the others know it or not. This Noble fella's probably the answer."
Joe waited for more than an hour, holed up inside the cramped air vent, patient for whoever roamed these hallways to go on their lunch break, go back to their homes or bunks, or whatever. As it stood, though, he could hear people walking close by, stomping, or running almost constantly. Flexing his muscles every so often to keep the blood circulating, Joe's mind was always drifting, wishing for his pills or a drink; and despite the cool air flowing by him, he was sweating heavily. Goddamn, I need my meds!

Time seemed to pass like a blur from then on. The nausea alone was almost unbearable. Finally, like a gift from Heaven, silence came from the corridors. Dripping puddles of sweat, Joe cautiously peeked out from the vent. Seeing no one in either direction, he crept out and silently walked to his right. He had no idea if that direction would lead to a way out, but it was better than sitting in one place for any longer. Turning a corner, Joe came face to face with a closed steel door. Swallowing hard, he pushed it open and walked into a dimly lit room with the far wall filled floor-to-ceiling with television screens. The screens were one on top of the other, reaching up for what looked like almost thirty feet. Approaching the monitors in overwhelming curiosity, Martin saw what was being played on some of the closer ones: Superman fighting some punk in a red helmet; the Martian Manhunter flying through Metropolis, apparently to Superman's aid; the Joker kidnapping Bruce Wayne in Gotham; news coverage of Lex Luthor's announced nuclear strike; and others that just seemed to be watching unknown figures sitting or sleeping in random rooms.

"Surveillance," the Skull noted to himself. "They're keeping tabs on certain heroes and villains." What the hell was going on here? From what Joe could piece together, this Noble character, whoever he was, was assembling villains, selling power sources and weapons, monitoring metahuman activity, and keeping himself off the radar pretty successfully.

That's when one of the screens caught Joe's eye. Being shown was a man facing away from the camera, and behind him was a glowing wall featuring a myriad of images.

Oh God

Spinning around, Joe stared in awe at the camera filming him. The simple blinking red light above the lens made his heart sink and he spine shiver.

Suddenly, a screen made of hard light materialized in the air in front of the Atomic Skull. The grinning face on screen made Joe want to vomit even more.

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"Surprise, Bone-head! You're on Candid Camera!"
 
OOC: Sorry I haven’t posted in a while guys.

Gotham Cemetery:

Harvey Dent staggered across Gotham Cemetery. Tired drained and weak. He made his way to the graveyard, It was raining and Harvey’s cloths were muddy.

So tired….

Then why are you here?

Harvey ignored Two-Face, It was the anniversary of Harvey’s father’s death, Even after all the abuse and torment that Harvey endured from Jonathan Dent, Harvey still loved his father a lot.

Harvey made his way to his father grave staggering across and landing on his knees.

“Hello….”

Harvey said standing up right.

“I’ve been…thinking about the last few years of my life…what’s happened to me since then, I…”

Harvey stopped in mid sentence thinking.

Say it Harv!

Harvey lowered his head and started crying.

“Come on Harvey ACT LIKE A MAN!”

Harvey pressed the dirt of his father’s grave.

“Shut up!”


It was just what his father would say, His father would be proud of either of the two.

Harvey started punching the ground harder and harder and harder.

“DAM YOU, DAM YOU WHY! I WAS HAPPY I HAD A STABLE LIFE A WIFE WHO LOVED ME AND WHO I LOVED! BUT IT WASN’T THE ACID THAT CREATED THIS MONSTER……….IT WAS YOU!”

Harvey said crying to himself.

“Gildia………..Gildia………………….Gildia……………”
 
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Bruce Wayne was alive.

Waves of relief swept over Gordon as he drove to the Ace chemical plant. Bruce had called him, said he was okay, and told him where to find him. He'd specifically asked for no back-up. He wanted to pick Bruce alone. Reckless? Possibly. But Gordon and The Joker were both in on Bruce Wayne's secret. The truth about who he really was. Who knows what The Joker had done that might endanger that secret if too many people were sniffing around...

And so Gordon was alone, with only his thoughts to keep him company. He hadn't been home in 2 days now. Would Barbara still be waiting for him when he got back? He couldn't afford to worry about that now. There were larger issues than his own personal affairs to deal with right now.

He brought the car to a halt outside the chemical plant, where Bruce Wayne was waiting. Gordon got out of the car.

"Bruce? Where's The Joker?"

"He tried to shoot at me, but I blocked the barrel. Shrapnel went in his stomach and he dropped into the same vat he went in all those years ago. I looked all around and I couldn't find him.

"I think this time he really is dead."
 
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"He tried to shoot at me, but I blocked the barrel. Shrapnel went in his stomach and he dropped into the same vat he went in all those years ago. I looked all around and I couldn't find him.

"I think this time he really is dead."

For a moment, there was no reaction. Gordon just stood there, his expression blank. But then, his whole body seemed to tremble violently, a spasm that carried from his head to his toe. He staggered back, leaning against the hood of his car for support.

He let out a long sigh, that was almost like a sob. It was like the crushing weight of all these years had finally been lifted off his shoulders. At last, his loved ones were safe. A shadow over Gotham had lifted at long last.

"I hope the f**ker burns."

And let that be your epitaph, you sick bastard.

Gordon stood up, opening the passenger seat of his battered old car.

"Get in, Bruce. I'll take you home. Then maybe I can get home myself..."
 
Luthor receives a phone call from Albert Simmons.

Luthor answers, "Yes Albert tell me you succeeded in capturing the Joker or it's your job."

He answers, "Negative sir. We couldn't locate the target. Given more time though we....."

Luthor hangs up the phone and calls Assistant Director Foreman. He says, "Edward this is the President. I think if you stop by my office tomorrow you'll be very interested in some materials that I have on your boss. Materials that are certainly in violation of National Security."

He hangs up the phone and dials Governor Gatling and says, "All deals are off and by the way expect me to campaign with a vengance...for your opposition."

Luthor slams the phone down.
 
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For a moment, there was no reaction. Gordon just stood there, his expression blank. But then, his whole body seemed to tremble violently, a spasm that carried from his head to his toe. He staggered back, leaning against the hood of his car for support.

He let out a long sigh, that was almost like a sob. It was like the crushing weight of all these years had finally been lifted off his shoulders. At last, his loved ones were safe. A shadow over Gotham had lifted at long last.

"I hope the f**ker burns."

And let that be your epitaph, you sick bastard.

Gordon stood up, opening the passenger seat of his battered old car.

"Get in, Bruce. I'll take you home. Then maybe I can get home myself..."

I nod and sit up, walk over to the car, sit in and close the door.
 
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I nod and sit up, walk over to the car, sit in and close the door.

The drive to Wayne Manor was a silent one. Neither man said a word. Neither needed to. The police reports, the statements, that could all wait. Right now, all that mattered was that...finally...it was over.

The car pulled to a stop outside Wayne Manor. Bruce swung open the door, and stepped out. It was at this point that Gordon finally broke the silence.

"You gonna be okay?"
 
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The drive to Wayne Manor was a silent one. Neither man said a word. Neither needed to. The police reports, the statements, that could all wait. Right now, all that mattered was that...finally...it was over.

The car pulled to a stop outside Wayne Manor. Bruce swung open the door, and stepped out. It was at this point that Gordon finally broke the silence.

"You gonna be okay?"

I wished like hell he wouldn't ask that. I hope that I wouldn't even think it; but now, I do.

Will I be okay?

"...All these years, I thought that when he did die, I would feel...relief. But now..."

I think back to that platform in the chemical plant, the Joker firing his round, the gun exploding and the sharp edges stabbing into his stomach. I think of his leering, grinning face instantly changing to shock and pain. I remember watching him drop over the railing, flailing around like a meat puppet and slamming into the chemical bath. I watch his mutated face slowly drop down the vat and feel a part of me shocked and another grinning.

"...Nothing," I truthfully lie. "I don't feel a damn thing."
 
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I wished like hell he wouldn't ask that. I hope that I wouldn't even think it; but now, I do.

Will I be okay?

"...All these years, I thought that when he did die, I would feel...relief. But now..."

I think back to that platform in the chemical plant, the Joker firing his round, the gun exploding and the sharp edges stabbing into his stomach. I think of his leering, grinning face instantly changing to shock and pain. I remember watching him drop over the railing, flailing around like a meat puppet and slamming into the chemical bath. I watch his mutated face slowly drop down the vat and feel a part of me shocked and another grinning.

"...Nothing," I truthfully lie. "I don't feel a damn thing."


Gordon nodded grimly. Revenge is sweet, the old saying goes. They forget to mention the bitter after-taste.

"Get some sleep, Bruce," Gordon said, "You need it."

And with that said, he drove off, heading back towards the GCPD.
 
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Things are exactly the way they should be; the way he wants it to be. Orin's life used to be so pure and happy, and it is at moments like this that he cherished most. The woman of his life in his arms, and his baby son laying peacefully in his crib. Mera lets go of Orin, and walks away. Orin remains however, looking down upon his son.

"You're just as I remembered you..."

Orin touches his son's belly, and the baby giggles, grabbing one of his fingers, and pulling. Orin smiles, and he picks up his son. As he looks into the boy's eyes, it's as if Orin completely loses sight on reality.

"...Strong little fella you are."

Before he knew something wasn't right. But when he saw his son, all of that didn't matter. He brings his son close to him, softly hugging him as he lays him against his chest, never wanting to let go. Mera comes back into view, from what appears to be nothing. It's as if nothing but what Orin looks at is shadow; but she appears before him again. And as she speaks, its as if the entire city of Poseidonis comes into view as well.

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"Arthur? There's a shark here for you."

Orin walks over to where Mera stands, and outside Orin sees the shark she was talking about. The shark doesn't call out to him, and he cannot seem to enter its mind to see what it wants for some odd reason. But it just looks at him, for a good amount of time, and then swims away.

"What did it want?"

"I don't know. But I think I should follow it. Here. Watch our son for a moment."

As Orin exits the domed city, and follows the shark as it swims away, heading somewhere. Again Orin tries to communicate with it, but nothing happens; so he continues to follow it. He takes a turn around a reef, and suddenly...the shark is gone. He looks around, amazed he could've lost its trail when it was just right there in front of him. A thundering voice enters Orin's mind as he views the scenery before him, at first taking Orin by surprise. The scene before him would be familiar, were he not enchanted by Poseidon's spell.

So you don't seem too surprised at what you see before you, Sea King.

"What? Who said that? Who's there?"


I am the one to thank for this spark of joy you now feel in your heart. The scene you see before you? It's Poseidonis.

"No! That can't be! I was just--"


What you saw before was nothing more than a mere illusion, carved and engraved into your mind. I merely re-created one of your fondest memories for you. The ruined buildings, the toppled towers...it's the real Poseidonis. None of what you saw was real.

"What are you talking about? No! I have a son! A strong young lad. And I have the most beautiful woman in all the oceanscape!"


A beautiful woman, you may have...but your son is dead, Aquaman.

"No! I was just holding him! I--"


Orin stops, his expression turning from confusion to sadness to anger.

"...Who are you?."


In the real world, outside of Orin's fantasy, the others do not notice it, for what has passed in Orin's eyes have only been so short in their time. But suddenly, his teeth start to grind together; all do not see it except Vulko. Something cannot be right; it's as if Vulko just knows something isn't right. Vulko's voice echoes as he panics through the doorway and into the hallway, and guards come rushing in.

"What do you want?! Why are you doing this?!"

This is what you could've had all along, Sea King...it's something you could still have.


"What? Have what?"

True happiness. As a god, you would know eternal happiness.

"What are you talking about? Get out of my head!"


Orin finds himself shouting at nothing but the open sea. The voice in his head ceases, and he shrugs it off. He looks around frantically, looking for who he was speaking with. He finds that he was talking to himself, and swims away. As he swims, he tries to place a face with the one he could've sworn he was speaking to...because it sounded so familiar.

Later that night, Mera sleeps safely and soundly in their bed. Orin stands over her side, smiling as she slumbers. He admires her beauty, and he appreciates her love for staying with him for so long. He than kisses her on the cheek, and whispers her a thank you. He thanks her for giving him a healthy and wonderful son, and then he walks over to him. Giggling and smiling as Orin picks him up, he walks over to his throne with Artie Junior.

As he holds him, he looks at him closely. He thinks about what the voice inside his head was saying. Before he accepted he was hallucinating, because there was no way that shark could've just vanished. But whenever he looks at his son, he knows something isn't right; something is there that shouldn't be. After a few seconds, he knows. Sitting in his throne, he brings his son close to him, and hugs him gently. A tear rolls down his eye, and as he pulls his son away from him, he wipes it away as he gazes upon him. And as he brings his hand back down from wiping away his tear, as before, Artie Jr. grabs it, tugging it forward. Orin smirks, trying to hold back another tear.

"...Strong little fella you are."

He looks over to his side, where he sees Mera sleeping through the doorway. He closes his eyes, and reopens them as he sighs. He sees sharks appear out of no where in the distance again. He wants to shout out and curse the gods. He wants to yell out their name in damnation. But he doesn't.

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"I have to go, Mera."

She doesn't answer for she isn't awake. And then he looks back at his baby, and gives him farewell as well.

"See you, boy."

And with those words, the world around Orin seems to wither away and crumble. The earth feels like it shakes, and the city comes tumbling down. His baby son cries; his screams becoming almost as loud as the destruction of Poseidonis itself. Orin brings his son closely to him, and sheds tears.

"There there...you'll always be with me, son...you'll always be in my heart."

It's black. The world around him is black. All Orin can see is him standing in the darkness, and as he looks down, his son is no longer in his arms. He turns his head towards a direction, as if looking at something; but nothing is there.

"...Poseidon."

Suddenly, Orin's eyes open wide. He looks around, seeing Mera and Vulko in the doorway, and Triton's beaten and bruised body still laying on the floor. As he looks to his left, he sees a group of sea creatures, with Koryak's dead body among them. And as he slowly turns to his right, he sees Poseidon's trident as the glow around it fades away.

Their eyes meet, but Orin doesn't say anything. He would love nothing more than to strangle Poseidon around his neck, if such a thing were even possible to do to a real god. For all Orin knows, Poseidon would dissappear into water vapor, and escape; but he doesn't care. Just knowing that he tried would be enough.

But then something suddenly hits Orin in the back of the mind. He looks past Poseidon, and from the other window...he sees the now ruined city of Poseidonis. His vision came true. Despite all of Orin's efforts...his vision came true. And here he was, sitting in his throne room, as angry and depressed as he envisioned.

He remains silent. As his and Mera's eyes meet, he quickly turns away. He feels sick in the stomach. The water in the city is drenched with blood; he wants to escape it all; but he cannot. All he tried to do was save the ones he cares for...and he cannot even do that. That's when he looks back at Poseidon, and he sees Poseidon nod at him for some reason. Orin doesn't nod back, but he suddenly he notices the guards at the entrance of the doorway with Mera and Vulko.

"Guards, take Triton and place him into a cell. I want all of Atlantis' most finest sorcerors to start working on a containment spell to make sure Triton cannot escape. He will not die by my hand...not today. Mera, Vulko...you go as well. I need some time alone here with Poseidon."

Everyone is struck with shock and in result speechless. The guards obey their orders, and Vulko does the same. But Mera...Mera out of them all, finds the most difficulty to listen. Vulko tries to nudge her to follow him, and at first she doesn't. But then Orin looks up, and she looks into his eyes and examines his face. She covers her mouth, and swims out of the palace doorway, with Vulko trailing behind her.

 
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The guards quickly escort the beaten end bruised Triton to his cell as part of Orin's order. Vulko slowly swims down the hall with Mera, as she stumbles along the floor; as if just waiting to crash down. From the looks of it she looks injured; her legs weak. But that is not the case. She is hurt, yes...but inside. She abruptly stops.

"Something amiss, Lady Mera?"


"Why wouldn't he let me stay, Vulko? Why? Just please...give me a reason why."

"...I--I...I don't know, Mera."


"You don't think he's actually going to--going to...do you?"


"...I don't know, Mera."


Mera starts swimming once again down the hall, with Vulko following right behind her. As they turn the corner, they bump into Deep Blue, Tsunami, and Neptune Perkins; Man O'War isn't too far behind. When he sees Vulko, he swims closely, and lifts him up as he gives him a bear hug.

"Whoa! There, there my old friend. I missed you too. So the battle is won, is it?"

"Yes. The last of Black Manta's men have fled the battle. After all the struggling, we taste victory!"


Deep Blue looks at Mera, and notices her expression.

"Where's Orin? We could've sworn we saw him in battle. Course, with all the chaos and fighting we could've been seeing things. He was...thrashing at an unknown foe. Have you guys seen him?"

Orin sits in his throne, still looking at the door where Mera once stood. He'll never forget the look he gave her; but he understands her confusion. He himself is confused right now. Part of him is telling him to take Poseidon's offer, so that nothing as devastating as this can ever happen again. Poseidon floats, now impatient.

"Does this mean you will accept my gift, Sea King? Come. Learn the ways and rejoice as a God."

"Do not think that because I have requested a silent audience with you means that I am going to do what you wish, God. You entered my mind...played with it...toyed with my emotions. You thought you could persuade me with false images?"

Poseidon is silent once more, and Orin let's out a telepathic command to the two manta rays where Koryak's body rests. They bring him forth, and Orin continues to look Poseidon in the eye. For a split second, Poseidon turns away as the body is brought to him, and then he looks over at Orin once more.

"I'll tell you what, Poseidon. Before I give you my final answer; I wish an audience with the rest of the Gods. So call upon your Council, 'oh great and powerful' Lord of the Sea."

The sea almost thunders as Poseidon takes Orin's rude insult at the end of his sentence. But alas, the God of the Sea stays calm. He simply raises up his trident, and it starts to glow; he then extends his hand outward towards Orin.

"As you wish, Sea King."


Orin stands up from his throne, but he doesn't grab Poseidon's hand just yet. He smirks, turns, and picks up Koryak's dead carcass, and instantly Poseidon objects.

"You must be joking. He cannot come."

"I must be joking? I'm afraid if you want me to even consider your offer, you're going to have to bring Koryak along for the ride."

"I--I simply cannot allow this! You expect me to just bring your son's dead body, and lay it across the table for the Council of the Gods to see? What good will that do? Do you wish me to shame myself in front of them as I bring a dead boy's body to their presence?"


"...that would be a plus, but no. Do we have a deal?"

Orin, holding Koryak over on of his shoulders, and keeping a grip with his arm around Koryak's waist, extends his other arm outward towards Poseidon. Their eyes meet for a while, and Orin keeps his expression the same; calm yet serious. With much reluctance, Poseidon grabs Orin's hand, and the two vanish as they teleport to Mount Olympus.
 
Now they're just playing with me.

I grab my broken ribs and try to form a shield to block Major Force's attack. It barely works, and I'm knocked back to the ground. I cough, and the pain racks my body. I cough up blood and spit it on Major Force's foot. He picks me up by my hair and punches me across the face.

"Ready to join us now?"

"W-why...?"

Major Force looks back as the others keep the law enforcement at bay. The humans don't stand a chance as police cars are flipped into the air and chunks of buildings explode. He looks back at me with that damned smug smile of his.

"Why not just take the ring off your finger?" I nod. At least, I try to nod. "I guess I could. Hell, I could probably just rip your whole damn hand off." He grabs my hand and begins squeezing it. I grimace in new pain. "This is a lot more fun."

"You...can't kill...me."

"No. We need you to use the ring. But I can still break you." He pulls his hand back and launches it at my face. I close my eyes, but feel nothing. I open them to see Major Force arm locked by a green clamp.

"Wha-!" A giant hand uppercuts Major Force high into the air.

I land on my knees and try to suck in air despite the pain. The man lands next to me.

"I..was expecting...Jordan. Or...maybe Rayner."


Alan Scott smirks. "I could always leave."

"STOP!" Fatality shouts. A blitz of blasts strike against a brick wall Scott creates.

"You had a problem with these guys?"

"They caught me by surprise. And they're tougher than they look." The streaking figure of Major Force slams into Scott's chest. "See?"

Fatality and Amon Sur take aim at me. Arkillo roars and runs at me, but a yellow clamp grabs him by the throat and I toss him over my head into a building. My ring glows brightly with fury.

"BRING IT!"


I fly at Amon and Fatality, their blaster fire bouncing off my shield. I hurt all over, but I no longer care. In the sky, Scott and Major Force fight. And between MF's training and Scott's sheer experience, the match seems to be even.

I slam a giant fist into the ground, but Amon and Fatality fly to safety before the blow lands. I quickly turn, grabbing Amon foot in a claw and spin him around. I slam him into Arkillo just as the creature leaps at me. As the pair tumble away, I focus my attention on fatility. She tries to bring her lance down on my skull, but I deflect with a sword.

We swing at each other a few times, but I already know that, with my injuries, she'll quickly get the upperhand. And I know the other two will be on me in no time. So I create a construct to keep Fatality busy. A double-sword wielding warrior pushes Fatality back, keeping her pinned to the ground. Turning around, I see Arkillo back on his feet, ready for more. Amon seems hurt, or at least dazed, laying on the ground.

With a roar, Arkillo launches himself at me. I stand my ground in a ready stance. The ground pounds as he gets closer, picking up speed. Just as he gets to me I can't help but smile. A massive gold block of weight drops from the sky and buries Arkillo into the street.

An explosion behind me tells me my construct has failed. Fatality and I stare at each other. Explosions of red and green continue in the sky as Scott and Major Force give each other hell. Fatality presses a button on her collar. "Retreat," is all she says.

Arkillo digs himself out from the hole his body made. With a snort of disgust he walks over to Amon and picks him up by the back of his uniform. I keep an eye on them. The sky goes quiet as Major Force lands next to Fatality. Scott lands beside me.

"Next time, Sinestro."


"You'll not catch me be surprise again."

"Just keep telling yourself that."
The four take to the air and disappear into the sky.

With a sigh of relief I fall into a gold chair, letting my soreness fade a bit. Already my ring is working to heal my body.

"We've got to go," Scott says to me.

"There's not point in chasing them without backup," I reply.

"It's not that. Mr. Terrific has called the JSA to the Brownstone. There's an emergency. I'd be there already if not for your signal."

"Sorry to interrupt your plans," I say with sarcasm.

Scott lets it slide. "Come along. We can treat you there and probably use your help."

I sigh and think about it for a few seconds. Then I shrug my shoulders. "I've have no place better to be."

Scott smiles and we rise into the air. Next stop, Gotham City.
 
It's over.

At last, after all these years, it was over. The Joker was gone. Dead. And for now, the nightmare had come to an end. He'd held the press conference, put together his written reports, taken care of all that. There was still more to do, of course. Harvey Dent and Jonathan Crane still needed to be apprehended. But that could wait. Right now, all he wanted to do was go home.

And as he drove there, he silently prayed that Barbara and James would still be there waiting for them.

He prayed, but he couldn't give in to hope. 2 days. 2 days since he'd slipped out in the middle of the night to investigate Dent's escape from custody. That day had been one long onslaught, from the manhunt for Dent and Joker, to the siege in the police station when they joined with Crane and attacked them, to picking up the pieces after the citywide Fear Gas outbreak orchestrated by Crane, a job that carried him all through the night. And then today, Bruce Wayne gets kidnapped by The Joker! One catastrophe after another, but finally he could go home. But was it too little too late?

He really couldn't blame her. He couldn't hold it against Barbara for taking James away from this city, away from him. Mere hours after they had reconciled, and Gordon had already abandoned her, left her afraid and alone. He hadn't even called her. He couldn't, he didn't have the courage to, in case there was nobody there to pick up. No, he couldn't blame her one bit if she decided to take James on the first plane she could get back to Chicago.

And so, it was with a feeling of quiet, miserable resignation that Gordon exited his car, and stuck his key in the front door, letting himself in. Empty.

They're gone. For good this time.

Gordon slumped across the living room - letting his battered brown coat drop onto the floor - and then he collapsed on the sofa. He closed his eyes, bitterly regretting the mess he'd made of everything once again.

And when he opened them, Barbara was standing in front of him.

"Barbara!" he exclaimed, "I thought you were gone!"

"Shh!" she replied, "James is asleep. Don't wake him."

"Sorry. But...you're here...."

For a long time, Barbara said nothing. She clearly wasn't happy about her ex-husband's absense. Finally, she sat down on the sofa next to him.

"I'm not leaving. How could I? Someone has to tidy this dump up. Clearly you can't manage without me."

Gordon smiled.

"Clearly."

And the two of them sat there, content in the silence of each other's company, for several minutes. Eventually, Barbara stood up, taking Gordon by the hand.

"Let's go to bed, Jim."

"That's the best thing I've heard all day."

Soon afterwards, Jim Gordon was lying in bed, his arm wrapped around his former wife once more. After all he'd been through recently, it felt strange, being happy. The shadow of The Joker lifted from his life, his wife and son returned to him, this was like a dream come true. Hell, it was a dream. Tomorrow he'd wake up to the reality of corruption, violence and dead bodies, another day in the office. But for now, it was nice to lie back and dream.

With a smile and a sigh, Gordon closed his eyes, and drifted into a deep, long-awaited sleep.


THE END
 
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The sun shines bright, even through the thick window-drapes. I toss and turn in my bed, trying to get some semblance of sleep, but every time I close my eyes I see that damn clown staring deep into me and laughing as he drowns.

I sit up, alone in the mansion. Wayne Manor. For a while, I only considered it my father's house. After a while, I grew to accept it as my own. Now, it belongs to no one. It's only a cemetary for those I loved. I walk down into the cave and put on the suit. I can't stand the ghosts in my old home.

I add new logs into the computer. I exercise. I brave going into the manor, freshen up, put on a suit, and go to Wayne Tower, where I lived when Tim as the Red Hood and Parasite destroyed the manor. I might come back here--the manor is too big for one man to live. I sit in my office, going through paperwork, going into meetings, until finally, the sun goes away, leaving the night.

I put on the real suit and drive through the city. I divert from my usual patrol, just moving through the city, stopping muggings and robberies when seen. It isn't until the hard pavement turns to gravel that I realize I'm driving towards Gotham Cemetary.

I stop, open the door, and leap out, realizing what I'm here to do. I walk through the gates, going through a path I could do with my eyes closed. A few rights and lefts, and I walk up to a hill to see them.

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Thomas and Martha Wayne. My parents.

I stand near them, nearly touching the stone. I think of everything I can remember about them. I remember the night, of pearls and gunpowder. I remember the hours before, seeing Zorro on the big screen slicing up the bad guys with the wit and charm only those in swashbuckling movies can achieve. I remember my mother holding my hand in the dark, and I turn to see my father, enwrapped by the screen, with the same grin I had. I try to think of birthday parties, dinners, my mother's scent and my father's brief but powerful showings of love when he was at home, and not at the hospital...but it's mostly a haze. I close my eyes, and think as hard as I can, and I realize--I almost remember nothing about them besides their murder.

Have I done this intentionally? Did I sacrifice my memories, along with so many other things, for my War?

I wish...I wish to remember something good around them, if only one thing. At this moment, I could give up everything else, if only for that.

I kneel down to the headstones, empty, grasping them for...wholeness, only finding cold marble.

Suddenly I hear a scream, a loud, gravelly scream.

"DAMN YOU!"

I turn to the direction of the sound, I walk towards it, lightly, through the shadows.

"DAMN YOU--WHY?!"

I see the back of a man, slamming his fist to the ground.

"I WAS HAPPY! I HAD A STABLE LIFE! A WIFE WHO LOVED ME! WHO I LOVED! IT WASN’T THE ACID THAT CREATED THIS MONSTER! IT WAS YOU!!”

I look at the gravestone, the words "Johnathon Dent" carved in. The man collapses into a heap, whispering a word I cannot hear. I walk silently, closer to the man, when I heard it.

"Gilda."

Two-Face.

"Harvey?"
 

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