From my spot on the rooftop, I looked down at the city below, my heart racing with a mix of adrenaline and nerves. This moment had been a long time coming, a culmination of all my hard work and preparation. I was ready for whatever lay ahead.
I shouted into the night, my voice slicing through the quiet with unwavering determination. "Alphonse Capone!!!!" The words felt like a challenge, a direct confrontation with the danger that had gripped the city. I imagined them hanging in the air, daring him to come out and face me.
And then, I saw him. Alphonse Capone emerged from the warehouse, his presence as commanding as his notorious reputation. He wore a sleek suit that oozed authority, his cold, confident smile suggesting he found my challenge as an insult.
As he stepped into the moonlight, our eyes locked. I could see the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior, a frustration that I was back again. It was clear he wasn't just annoyed; he was genuinely infuriated that I had the audacity to confront him once more.
"Nightwing!!!!" His voice cut through the night, laden with a mixture of recognition and barely concealed rage. There was a dismissive quality to it, as if he saw me as a persistent thorn in his side. Yet, beneath that veneer of contempt, I could sense a flicker of intrigue.
To understand why we've come to this moment, let me take you back to the events that led up to this confrontation.