The rain was getting heavier.
The giant dark clouds were like the lid of a bubbling hot pot, steam kept rising up and then fell down due to the cold. The rain was cold as the water under a glacier, yet hot like magma shooting into the sky.
The heavy rain completely obstructed the view. The two towering pillars of Gotham Bridge looked like giant arms held high. The loud noise of the helicopter's rotor cutting through the rain was so loud that it almost drowned out the conversation in the cabin.
"Damn it, this place always has this hellish weather. I should have pretended to be sick tonight too," grumbled the helicopter pilot, adjusting his goggles. "Support Gotham? Don't be ridiculous. It is better for us to find a shelter until the storm ends. Then we can tell the HQ that our mission is accomplished. There's nothing worth saving in this city."
"Don't be stupid, Hank. We're here to retrieve something. Why would we need an armed helicopter if this city wasn't so dangerous? The weather is getting worse. Try to connect to Wayne Enterprises' radio and find us somewhere to land."
The pilot looked downwards through the window, but the rain was too heavy. He could not see much, so he raised his head to look forward again, only to see a pair of ominous eyes in the dense rain.
"My God! What is that?!!"
Upon hearing the pilot's exclamation, his two companions in the back rushed forward to look.
"Damn, I think I am hallucinating. Is that a car? Is it flying in the sky?!"
"Wait! What's that on its tail? Is it catching fire? ... Damn it, it's a missile! It's a missile! Dodge! Dodge!!!"
Zizzala-
"What's going on?" Barbara yanked her wheelchair forcefully, took off her headphones and tossed them aside, and looked out of the window.
"Why is the FBI's helicopter here?! The Batmobile fired at them?! What is happening?!!"
"There must be trouble in the city," Robin also rushed to the window as fast as he could and said: "Something unexpected has happened."
He took a weapon from his waist and said to Barbara: "Given the current situation, you should stay here. I'm going out to investigate. Contact me if anything happens, use the regular radio channel."
"Wait," Barbara stopped Robin by his sleeve and said: "Take this."
She handed a communicator to Robin, took a deep breath, unintentionally glanced at the group photo on the desk, and said: "You know, he won't stand back and watch when such a big thing has happened. Brude Haven is not far from here. You know what I mean."
Robin squeezed the communicator in his hand and said: "Yes, I understand. He has his own thing to do. I will inform you soon."
Barbara sat in front of the window, watching Robin jumping to the opposite building with his grappling hook, disappearing into the blurred rain and lead-grey color.
Barbara closed her eyes, exhaled deeply, tightened her jacket to keep her warm. She laboriously moved her wheelchair back to the computer. She believed that there was still something she could do.
After tapping on the keyboard a few times, she connected to the internal communications of the Gotham Police Department. As expected, she could barely hear anything through the usual channels. Barbara switched to several channels until she finally heard a desperate yell.
"We are finished! Gotham is finished! ... They are all dead, they are all dead, and I'll die too, oh God, please save us ..."
Barbara froze, she stared at the screen, confirmed that she did not click on the wrong channel. She pulled her hair with the hand that was not holding the mouse, then finally let go of it and dropped it on the keyboard.
Her trembling fingers pressed the buttons on the keyboard again, she connected to the channel of her father, James Gordon.
"Listen, this is James Gordon. I leave this message within the Citibank Vault in Gotham. We had to retreat here just to leave enough clues for the investigators."
"We only have enough oxygen in the vault for half an hour, and the air in Gotham has become a huge problem. Within just ten minutes, all the residents in Gotham who did not have time to evacuate have fallen."
"No one knows if they are dead or what, but listen to me. If you can't avenge us, at least let the truth be known."
"Approximately three hours ago, the notorious Scarecrow who escaped from Arkham Asylum claimed that he had planted over a thousand Fear Toxin Bombs in Gotham."
"He threatened everyone in this city, especially Batman, that if we did not take measures, the city would be destroyed in 24 hours."
"But obviously, he is not only mad but also a liar. He acted in only three hours. Just a few minutes ago, we watched our comrades fall one by one."
"This is hell. Let me repeat, Gotham City has become purgatory on earth. If you finally hear my message, please warn everyone that doomsday is about to come."
"If you are powerless to reverse the situation, please at least stay until tomorrow morning. Do not grieve for the sacrifices of your loved ones, at least we are still here holding off the night, then in hell, we shall meet again."
Beep–beep–beep–
Click!
The headphone slipped from her trembling fingers. Barbara gasped in disbelief, tears welled up in her eyes.
She suddenly turned her head to look at the clock behind her, then frantically keyed on the computer to check the time of the message—12 minutes ago.
"There is still time! There is still time!"
Barbara fumbled for her communicator, but remembered that she had already given the mobile phone with the special numbers to Robin. She pulled her hair with her fingers and tightly pursed her lips.
Suddenly, as if she had thought of something, she reconnected the communication and said: "Hello? Hello? Peter, Peter! Are you there? Hurry, hurry up, go to the Citibank Vault opposite to Gotham Police Department. A group of policemen is trapped in there. Their oxygen is running out!"
There was an eerie silence at the other end of the communicator.
"Hello ... Hello?!!"
"Who are you looking for?"
A deep and hoarse voice came from the other end, startling Barbara; she immediately grasped the microphone on her headset and said, "Who are you? Where is Peter Parker? Answer me!"
"Batman's new assistant is with me. If you want to save him, tell Batman everything."
"What? You..."
Beep—Beep—Beep—
Bang!
Barbara, consumed with anger, stared at the headset she had thrown onto the ground. Her arm then dropped listlessly and she closed her eyes, her neck muscles twitching.
She bent down with some effort, picking up the headset, pushed a familiar button, and then spoke.
"Batman! Please, stay cool, or you'll lose everything, we'll lose everything."
"James is dying, the kid named Parker has been kidnapped, I don't know where Robin is, I don't know where Nightwing is."
"Tell me, Batman, how can we get through this night, how can we…"
Barbara's voice gradually faded, and the side missile port's fire illuminated Batman's pale face.
Through the dark rain, he saw the Joker's face behind the helicopter cockpit.
"That's right, Batman, finish this, let the nightmare end this night, you need to rest."
Batman slowly closed his eyes, but just as the feelings of weariness and emptiness surged in his heart, he released the missile launcher button he was pressing and decisively pushed the communication button.
"Listen, those in front, this is Batman, immediately land on the nearest rooftop and disarm voluntarily, otherwise, I will open fire immediately, I repeat..."
On the top floor of Wayne Tower, at the Gotham Weather Control Center, Peter is standing in front of the control panel, Poison Ivy looks back at the fallen man behind her, then turns back to look at Peter.
Poison Ivy thinks the man Peter just knocked down should be at least twice her weight, wearing what looks to be a black, grey, metal armor similar to Batman's, appearing strong and advanced.
But just a few minutes ago, Peter had knocked this man straight down with just one move through her—the gleaming filament had already flown out even before this intruder had hit the ground.
"What are you doing?" Poison Ivy's adam's apple bobbed as she looked at Peter walking towards the man.
Peter didn't reply but instead walked straight to the man lying on the ground, after a closer look, Poison Ivy noticed that the man wasn't dead, his chest rising and falling. She guessed he might have been knocked out by the mysterious filament Peter had launched.
Peter, kneeling beside the man, looked up at Poison Ivy and said, "We need to figure out how to escape, you don't think Batman will let us off the hook after going through all this trouble, do you."
Poison Ivy choked, she stared blankly at Peter and said: "You knew and you still dared to do it?!"
"It's because I'm confident I can get away." Peter said, while groping around on the man's armor, "how an ambitious plan is conceived and executed doesn't matter, what's most important is how to escape after you've carried out the plan and caused a huge mess. That's what the doctor has repeatedly emphasized."
"Now we have to run quickly, otherwise we surely won't be able to, come and help, let's flip him over."
Eventually, Poison Ivy walked over and helped Peter flip the man over, as she took off his mask, she looked slightly moved.
The face was younger than she imagined, more importantly, there was a capital letter 'J' on his cheek.
"What do you plan to do with him?" Poison Ivy asked hesitantly, she took a deep breath, and reluctantly said: "Alright, Batman did save me. I owe him this much."
"Listen, this guy was probably once Batman's assistant, but he disappeared and now he's back. I advise you not to kill him, otherwise it won't be as simple as getting a beating."
"You've got the wrong idea, I'm not planning to kill him." Peter said, kneeling on the ground, shaking his head: "I don't kill."
"You wouldn't have deceived Batman with this lie, would you?" Poison Ivy gritted her teeth: "You damn rascal, you dragged me into this, if you dare to run without me, I'll let Harley smash your head to pieces!"
"Stop talking, steady his body."
Peter put one hand on the man's chestplate, Poison Ivy steadied his head, then a scene that almost scared her to the ground happened.
Red fluid started to surge from Peter's arm, spreading across his chest. A handful of sticky fluid first wrapped around the man's face, then flowed into him through his mouth and nose, disappearing almost instantly.
Then, the man's eyes snapped open. There were no pupils or whites in his eyes, only red.
His limbs twitched, and he staggered to his feet like a zombie, returning to normal within seconds.
At the same time, Peter's communicator rang, Barbara's anxious voice came through from the other end.
"Hello? Hello? Peter! Peter! Are you there? Hurry! Go to the Citibank Vault across from the Gotham Police Department…"
A hand covered with a black gauntlet took the phone, and a deep, hoarse voice came from the communicator.
"Who are you looking for?"