"The story of the Batman the once thriving hero, from tonight on he will be forgotten. I'll make sure of it."
A man with half his face burnt off announces the Death of the worlds greatest detective. The Batman.
Harvey Dent. A once admirable man, reduced to a two-faced criminal.
As much as this city runs rampant with evil, it's my home. I intend to protect it until I die.
As I lurk in the shadows I analyze the biggest threats. All of Gotham's biggest criminals and villains were let go from Arkham asylum.
Harleys "plan".
Scarecrow is the most dangerous to get close to. I can use that to my advantage. I throw a remote controlled batarang, blowing scarecrows fear toxin before putting on a gas mask.
I jump down and snap banes venom tubes. His face changes shade as he screams. I turn around, and see Harley pull something out. A detonator.
"This is for you joker"
She's going to kill everyone here in a suicide bombing I grunt in desperation as I throw my batarang as quickly as possible, hoping to disarm her, but I'm too late.
I rest my eyes as my life flashes before them. I regret not being able to save more people. Give more. The limits of Batman. Laughable. I, the supposed savior of Gotham died such a miserable death. I was never good enough, should've pushed harder, done more.
The legend of Batman dies here.