A motley crew of villains stood before the Talons, their eyes glazed over, their expressions blank. Strong and weak, superpowered and ordinary, all were united under the control of the Mad Hatter's neural chip—and, by extension, Batman.
This crude control might dampen their individual abilities and dull their intellect, but it also made them a terrifyingly efficient force. They were Batman's puppets now, all except for Clayface, who stood among them, a silent, shapeless mass. It seemed logical; after all, how could a brainless mud monster be controlled by a mere chip?
But then, Adam realized why Clayface was there. He was a creature of pure theatricality, driven by the need to play a role. And in this moment, his chosen role was that of a mind-controlled Arkham inmate.
Adam couldn't help but chuckle at his own quick understanding of the madman's logic. He seemed to possess an uncanny ability to grasp the inner workings of deranged minds, no matter how bizarre or twisted. Perhaps it was a talent.
The Joker watched Batman, surrounded by his Arkham army, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
Adam waved his hand, and Mr. Freeze ceased his assault, walking towards him.
"Victor," Adam asked, "How is Nora these days?"
A Talon lunged at them, sword raised. Adam's black sand whipped out, bisecting the assassin in mid-air like a layer cake.
Adam grimaced, looking down at his hands with a pang of melancholy. When had his superhero image become so... grotesque?
He'd dreamed of being a suave, charismatic hero, greeted by adoring fans upon landing. Instead, he was a creature of shadows, wielding black sand and morphing into monstrous forms. He'd become the very thing he fought against.
Shaking his head, he banished the wistful thoughts and addressed Mr. Freeze.
"Victor, let's not mince words. You're already cold enough as it is."
"I need your help. I know knowledge is power to you. Believe me, controlling you like a puppet was never my intention."
"The regenerative compound in the Talons' blood is heat-sensitive. Extreme cold will slow them down, weaken them."
"You're a master of cryogenics. Only you can affect them without hindering us."
A flicker of life returned to Mr. Freeze's eyes. He glared at Adam, hatred burning within him.
He looked ready to pounce, but his body remained frozen in place. "What makes you think I'd help you, Batman?" he snarled.
"You're dreaming."
"All I want is to freeze you solid and shatter you into a thousand pieces," he continued, his voice rising. "To wrap my hands around your pathetic neck and squeeze until your eyes bulge and your lips turn blue as you beg for mercy!"
"I want you dead!" Mr. Freeze spat.
He paused, then added, "The Court of Owls stole my technology to preserve their Talons. If they want to control this city, they'll need more Talons, which means they desperately need my technology."
He looked at the cowering Scarecrow. "The Court values you only for your ability to manipulate us Arkham inmates. We bolster their power, make them stronger. We are valuable assets. So why should we serve you, our enemy, instead of selling ourselves to the highest bidder?"
Mr. Freeze's voice dripped with disdain. "Yes, you're controlling us with Tetch's little toys. But do you think that can sway me?"
His expression hardened. "Death doesn't scare me!"
Adam knew he spoke the truth. Mr. Freeze's heart was encased in ice, immune to the threat of death.
"The Court will shower me with rewards, even though I don't need them. Helping you? What could you possibly offer me?"
"My gratitude," Adam replied simply. "I beg for your assistance."
Mr. Freeze was taken aback by this unexpected plea, his words momentarily caught in his throat.
"That's it? Your gratitude? Your begging?" he laughed bitterly.
"You have more than enough money, Victor," Adam countered. "You've stolen enough to keep Nora alive indefinitely. You've received your payment for years."
"Money can't buy you anymore."
Mr. Freeze shook his head. "You think I'd give up the Court's generous offer for this?"
He gestured at the chaotic scene, the mind-controlled villains, Bane, the Joker, and the Talons locked in battle.
"You don't think we can handle the Court without the Talons?"
"Scarecrow told me how dangerous they are. Their offer is a thousand times better than yours!"
"So, will you help me, old friend?"
Mr. Freeze sighed. He was a mad scientist, a mercenary for hire, a devoted husband. But he was also something else, something he had been for a long time.
He was Batman's villain, his sworn enemy.
"You... beg me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"Yes," Adam replied. "I'm begging you. I need your help."
Mr. Freeze let out another sigh. "Alright," he conceded. "I'll help you."
Adam breathed a sigh of relief. His original plan had been to leverage Nora's safety, but he hadn't expected to sway Mr. Freeze with a simple plea.
Had his initial attempt at facial recognition failed, he would have resorted to threats against Nora. It would have worked, but it would have also bred resentment.
This peaceful agreement, allowing Mr. Freeze the illusion of choice, was far more preferable.