Rain lashed the city.
From atop the Gotham Clocktower, Draven stared at the flickering city lights, his cloak drenched and fluttering in the wind. Selene stood beside him, still shaken, her arm wrapped tight in gauze.
Between them, the encrypted data chip from Black Hollow glowed faintly under a protective case.
"He'll be here," Draven said.
"How do you know?"
"Because he's the last man in Gotham who remembers what justice used to mean."
Moments later, footsteps echoed on the metal stairs behind them. Commissioner James Gordon emerged from the shadows, older, weary-eyed, trench coat flapping, cigarette burning low.
"Draven," Gordon muttered. "Didn't think I'd see your face again."
"You said the same thing five years ago when you covered my tracks."
"And I regretted it every day since." Gordon's eyes moved to Selene. "Friend?"
"Ally," Draven replied. "One of the few I trust."
Gordon took the chip, slotting it into a secure drive hidden beneath his coat. He watched as files loaded—videos, names, corpses, funding trails… and a name that froze him in place.
Senator Harlan Grieves.
The same man funding Gotham's newest "reformation project." A man Gordon had shaken hands with just last week.
"Dear God…"
"They used the city as a testing ground," Draven said. "Halcyon was just the surface. The Ash Circle is still operating from the inside."
"And Joker?"
Draven's silence was enough answer.
Gordon ran a hand down his face. "There's a meeting tonight. Grieves, Falcone, the heads of GCPD's special unit. Location's encrypted, but I can find it."
"Then find it," Draven said. "We're going to burn their lies."
Gordon exhaled smoke into the storm. "You sure about this war, Draven?"
"No," Draven said. "But I know what happens if we don't fight."
—
Later that night.
The meeting was deep in the Narrows—inside a disguised textile warehouse. Armed guards circled the perimeter. Inside, Gotham's elite whispered in shadows. Harlan Grieves raised a glass.
"To order."
And then—
The lights shattered.
Smoke hissed in through the vents. Shadows danced on the walls. Screams followed as bodies dropped, one by one.
From the rafters, Draven descended in silence. Selene followed, back-to-back with him, her twin pistols gleaming.
A guard charged. Draven flipped him with brutal precision, landing a crushing elbow to the throat. Another raised a gun—Selene's bullet dropped him before he could pull the trigger.
Gordon burst through the side door with a squad of honest officers, shouting, "GCPD! Drop your weapons!"
But Grieves didn't flinch.
He activated a hidden panel. The floor opened, and from the depths rose a figure in an armored exosuit—hulking, red-eyed, stitched together like a living siege engine.
Codename: HAMMER.
Draven stepped forward. "They're using them again."
Grieves smirked. "You're obsolete, Draven. This one doesn't ask questions."
The cyborg roared and charged.
Draven met it head-on. Fists collided. Sparks flew. Selene ducked under a steel punch and fired point-blank into its knee joint.
"Draven, move!"
The monster slammed him through a wall. Draven rolled to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth. With a growl, he yanked a collapsed pipe and jammed it into HAMMER's power port—sparks exploded. The machine faltered.
Selene leapt, firing a shock dart into the exposed junction.
Crack!
The cyborg collapsed, smoking, twitching.
By the time the smoke cleared, Grieves was gone.
Gordon stood in the wreckage, silent.
Draven approached him, dragging the cyborg's helmet with him. "You wanted proof. There it is."
Gordon looked around at the broken room, the terrified elites, the flashing cameras.
"You just declared war, Draven."
Draven turned, eyes hard. "Then we fight in the dark… until light returns to Gotham."
—
Elsewhere…
Deep in the twisted corridors of Arkham Asylum's ruins, Joker stood before a cracked mirror. He smeared red across his face, humming a lullaby.
A child's toy train rattled along the broken tile.
Behind him stood three new figures—masked, deranged, and armed. His disciples.
He giggled, arms wide.
"Draven's making noise again, boys. And you know what noise attracts?"
He turned slowly.
"Fire."
The mirror shattered under his fist. Blood streamed down his knuckles. He licked it.
"Time to teach Gotham… how beautiful chaos really is."