The city of Gotham was shrouded in darkness as the rain continued to pour relentlessly from the overcast skies. The distant sound of thunder echoed off the towering skyscrapers, and the wet streets reflected the flashing lights of patrol cars and street lamps. The chaos and corruption that had long plagued this city seemed to surge with every drop of rain, but for Kian Mathis, it was all just noise. His thoughts were a storm of their own, a turmoil of emotions and decisions that had been building for weeks.
He sat in his office, the walls of his penthouse apartment lined with weapons and intricate designs of his new suit. He had spent hours refining it, integrating elements of Deathstroke's tactical gear with Deadshot's precision. But that wasn't where his mind was now. His mind was fixated on the one name that echoed in his thoughts with increasing intensity: The Joker.
Kian's fingers drummed slowly on the polished surface of his desk, each tap sending a slight echo through the otherwise silent room. The Joker. The name, synonymous with chaos and madness, had been floating through Gotham's streets for years. He was a symbol of everything wrong with the city. A sick, twisted criminal who had terrorized the population with no regard for life or reason. He was a cancer on the soul of Gotham, and Kian had had enough of it.
Ever since his arrival in this world, Kian had focused on his goal: bringing justice to a corrupt society. But he was no fool. He knew that justice could not be served without making an example. Some people needed to be shown that the world had rules, that there were consequences for their actions. The Joker was the perfect candidate for this. A man who thought he could get away with anything, simply because he could create chaos with a smile and a laugh. It was time for that to end.
He stood from his chair, his reflection in the glass wall before him a stark contrast to the persona he had cultivated. Kian Mathis, the Judge, had no room for mercy. Not when it came to people like the Joker. The insanity that the clown brought to the city was an affront to everything Kian stood for. He was not about to let a man like that continue to run rampant. It was time to deliver justice in the most public way possible.
The Joker's reputation had grown over the years. He had a strange form of influence over Gotham's underworld, and his ability to turn the city's heroes into pawns in his chaotic games was something that had baffled even Batman. But Kian saw through it. He knew that the Joker was a coward at his core. The true power came from control, from instilling fear, and Kian was ready to use that to his advantage.
"Kevin ," Kian called out, his voice a low command. The young man entered the room, his posture alert but his expression filled with the uncertainty of someone still trying to understand the full extent of Kian's power.
"Sir?" Kevin's voice betrayed the weight of his thoughts. He was still unsure of Kian's methods, but loyalty had begun to form, though he didn't understand it entirely. The boy was a weapon, and Kian was willing to use him.
"I want you to bring me the Joker," Kian said with chilling calmness, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Kevin brow furrowed as he processed the order, a mix of disbelief and confusion crossing his features.
"Bring him here?" Kevin asked. "Are you sure? He's… dangerous."
Kian's eyes narrowed, and a slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "That's exactly why he needs to be shown that no one is untouchable. Not even him."
Kevin hesitated. "But… he's Batman's responsibility. If we go after him, the Bat family—"
"I don't care about the Bat family," Kian interjected sharply, his voice cold. "They've failed to deal with him time and time again. They've coddled him, treated him like some kind of joke. If Batman and his people can't do what needs to be done, then we will."
He stepped forward, his voice growing colder, more resolute. "I need him alive. For now. But I want the world to see what happens to people like him. I will make an example of him that will shake Gotham to its core. The Joker needs to be shown that chaos has consequences."
Kevin met Kian's gaze, and for a moment, he saw something more in the older man's eyes—a cold, calculating fire that refused to be extinguished. He saw the darkness, the ambition, and the ruthlessness that defined Kian Mathis. It was the kind of fire that burned without hesitation. Kevin wasn't sure whether to be afraid or impressed.
"Understood," Kevin said finally, nodding as he stepped back. "I'll bring him to you."
As Kevin left the room, Kian turned back to the window, his gaze fixed on the storm outside. The city was a beast, and beasts needed to be tamed. But sometimes, to tame them, you had to show them just how dangerous the hunter could be. The Joker was an aberration—someone who didn't understand the rules. And Kian Mathis was going to teach him.
The night passed slowly. Kian spent the hours reviewing the intricate designs of his suit, his mind racing through the preparations. He had always believed in efficiency. In planning. But this—this was different. This was personal. It wasn't just about bringing order to the chaos—it was about making sure that Gotham understood the price of disorder.
Meanwhile, Kevin was out in the field, tracking down the Joker. It wasn't long before he returned with a report, but Kian wasn't interested in details. He knew how this game was played. He knew that the Joker would not come easily. But he also knew that the Joker would eventually break.
Hours later, Kevin entered the room with a grim look on his face. "I found him, but he's holed up in one of his usual places—the old amusement park. He's got a small army of goons with him, and they're all armed. It's not going to be easy."
Kian nodded slowly, his mind already working through the plan. "It's never easy. But we don't need a small army to make a statement."
Kian turned away from the window and walked toward his suit, his fingers tracing the material with precision. The suit was complete now—everything from the armored plating to the advanced tech had been integrated seamlessly. It was a perfect balance of function and form. But more importantly, it was a weapon. A tool for what he had to do.
He grabbed his gauntlets and strapped them on, feeling the familiar weight settle on his arms. These weren't just for show—they were designed for utility, for close combat and range. And then there were the weapons: the custom-made pistols, laced with Kryptonite rounds, just in case any of the so-called heroes tried to interfere. This would not be a simple capture. It would be a demonstration.
"Let's go," Kian said, his voice as cold as the steel of his suit. "It's time to make an example."
The amusement park was a dilapidated shell of its former self. The rusted skeletons of old rides loomed in the darkness like decaying giants, and the faint sound of creaking metal echoed through the air. It was the perfect place for someone like the Joker—a place that reflected his madness, his chaos.
Kian stood at the edge of the park, his presence almost invisible in the shadows. Kevin was already scouting the perimeter, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of movement. Kian's mind was already focused on the task ahead. The Joker would be here soon enough, but it was the goons he had to deal with first.
Kian's lips curled into a cold smile. This was where the world would see what true justice looked like. Not Batman's form of justice—where the line between good and evil was blurred. Not the Joker's twisted view of the world, where chaos reigned supreme. No. This was justice in its purest form. Swift, decisive, and without mercy.
As Kian and Kevin advanced into the heart of the park, the sounds of gunfire and shouting filled the air. The Joker's men were scrambling, trying to secure the area, but they didn't know who they were up against. They didn't know the judgment that was about to be brought upon them.
Kian's movements were a blur of efficiency. His gauntlets crackled with energy as he tore through the goons, each strike precise, each movement deadly. There was no hesitation, no mercy—only the grim satisfaction of making sure that these men would never harm Gotham again.
"Kevin," Kian called, his voice calm despite the chaos around him. "Make sure none of them escape. This is a message."
Kevin nodded, his eyes cold as he dispatched another wave of goons. The kid was learning fast, adapting to the violence and the precision that Kian demanded. It wouldn't be long before Kevin was ready for bigger things. But for now, he was just another weapon in Kian's arsenal.
And then, through the smoke and chaos, a familiar laugh echoed through the park—a high-pitched, maniacal sound that sent a chill down Kian's spine. The Joker had arrived.
Kian turned toward the sound, his gaze locking onto the figure standing in the center of the park. The Joker, with his garish purple suit and wide, twisted grin, stood there like a king surveying his kingdom. He was surrounded by his men, but there was no doubt in Kian's mind—this was the moment. The moment he would make an example of the Joker, once and for all.
The Joker's laugh echoed through the abandoned park as he stepped forward, a sick, deranged grin stretching across his face. "Ah, Kian Mathis," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "I've been hearing whispers about you. So, what's this about? You want to take me down? You think you're the only one who knows how to have fun in this city?"
Kian stood still, unmoving, as the Joker's manic eyes locked onto him. The chaos around them seemed to fall silent for a moment, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The Joker took a step closer, his hands theatrically outstretched as if to embrace Kian's judgment. "Well, well, aren't you a fancy new player in Gotham? Tell me, what's your gimmick? What's the big idea?"
Kian's cold, expressionless gaze never left the Joker. His lips barely moved as he spoke, his voice calm and deliberate. "You're a disease, Joker. And Gotham is your playground. But every disease has its cure."
The Joker's smile widened, though there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something Kian recognized: fear. The Joker was never afraid, not truly. But there was something about Kian, something that struck at the core of the clown's madness.
The Joker's grin faltered slightly before he shook his head, returning to his usual theatrical bravado. "Ah, you're no fun. You really think you can stop me? I'm chaos incarnate, my friend! You can't just eliminate chaos with a flick of your wrist. You can't erase me."
Kian stepped forward, his posture as still as a statue, his tone never wavering. "Chaos is the symptom, Joker. The real disease is people like you. The ones who revel in destruction, who thrive on madness. I'm the cure, and you're going to learn the hard way."
The Joker's eyes narrowed for a brief moment, but then, just as quickly, his deranged laughter returned. "Oh, Kian, Kian, Kian… You don't get it, do you? You really think you can put an end to me like you did with the others? No, no, no. I'm special. I'm the Joker! No one—no one—can stop me!"
Kian raised his hand, signaling for Kevin to fan out and cover the exits. But the young assassin didn't need the command. He was already moving with purpose, securing their perimeter. Kian's focus never wavered from the Joker. He wasn't just going to kill him—not yet. He was going to make a statement. Gotham needed to understand what real justice was.
Kian took a step forward, his armored suit glinting under the flickering lights. "You're wrong, Joker. I can stop you. And I will."
With a sudden, lightning-fast movement, Kian threw a throwing blade toward one of the Joker's men, hitting him square in the neck. The man collapsed instantly, blood pouring from the wound. The Joker's henchmen reacted with chaos, pulling guns and shouting orders to each other, but it was too late. Kian was already moving, a blur of precision and violence.
His gauntlets crackled with energy, and he moved into the fray with cold efficiency. His movements were fluid and calculated, each strike knocking out a thug with brutal force. There was no mercy in Kian's actions. The Joker's goons were nothing more than obstacles in his path.
Kevin worked alongside him, his agile form darting between shadows, dispatching anyone who dared to move toward them. The two of them were a seamless team, a machine of destruction and control.
The Joker, who had initially been laughing in the chaos, seemed to grow more agitated with each passing second. His eyes darted around, his mind trying to figure out a way out of the situation. But he was no fool. He knew when the walls were closing in.
"You think this is the end, huh?" the Joker shouted, his voice rising in panic. "You think you can just sweep me under the rug and be done with it? Not so fast!"
Kian reached into his utility belt and pulled out one of his custom pistols, the barrel gleaming in the dim light. He aimed it directly at the Joker, but the gunshot never came.
Instead, Kian's voice cut through the air, calm and cold. "You're not worth a bullet yet, Joker. I want the world to see you. I want Gotham to see what happens when you let chaos run free."
The Joker's eyes widened, and for the first time, Kian saw true fear in the clown's eyes. "What do you mean?" The Joker's voice cracked, his facade beginning to crumble.
Kian stepped closer, his eyes burning with cold fury. "I'm going to show Gotham exactly who you are. A man who can do nothing but destroy. I'll make sure they see the kind of person you are, Joker. They'll never forget what you did to this city."
With a sudden motion, Kian grabbed the Joker by the throat, lifting him off the ground. The Joker's hands scrabbled at Kian's iron grip, but it was futile. The clown's laughter had ceased, replaced with panicked gasps for air.
"This isn't a game anymore, Joker," Kian said quietly, his voice cold as ice. "This is justice."
Kian raised his other hand, signaling to his men, and Kevin stepped forward, holding up a device that began to emit a high-pitched frequency. The device activated with a hum, sending a shockwave through the air. The Joker's body stiffened as the frequency interfered with his mental state, disorienting him.
Kian's gaze never left the Joker's eyes. "You've terrorized this city for far too long, Joker. It's time for the world to see what happens to men like you. People like you don't deserve mercy."
The Joker's laughter started again, but it was thin, desperate. His usual chaotic energy seemed to have been drained from him, and in its place, there was fear—raw and palpable. "No, no, no! You can't do this! You can't make me like them! I'm different, I'm special!"
Kian's hand tightened around the Joker's throat, his voice never faltering. "You're nothing special, Joker. You're just a man who's too afraid to face his own demons."
With a sharp motion, Kian slammed the Joker to the ground, pinning him with a force that shattered the concrete beneath them. The Joker gasped, his body shaking with a mix of exhaustion and fear. Kian stood over him, a figure of absolute authority, his eyes cold and unfeeling.
"We're going to make sure Gotham knows what happens to people like you. And we're going to do it in front of the whole city," Kian said, his voice carrying an undeniable weight.
Kevin looked on silently, his expression unreadable as he observed Kian's methodical brutality. He didn't question it. This was what Kian had promised: justice, delivered swiftly and without mercy.
The Joker struggled weakly beneath Kian's boot, his eyes wide with terror. "Please, please don't do this. You're making a mistake! I'm chaos! You can't stop me!"
Kian knelt down, his face inches from the Joker's. "Chaos isn't power. It's just a symptom of weakness."
And with that, Kian turned to his men, nodding toward the perimeter. They had one final task. Kian didn't need to say anything more. The message was clear. The Joker was done.
As Kian looked back at the Joker, he knew this wasn't just a victory for him. It was a victory for Gotham. It was a victory for justice. And with the Joker finally put in his place, the city would never be the same.
The thunder rumbled in the distance as Kian and his team made their way through the darkened streets of Gotham, leaving behind the remnants of the Joker's chaos. Kian was certain of one thing: Gotham would see the difference. They would see what true power, true justice, looked like.
But as they moved through the night, another thought lingered in Kian's mind: the city was changing, and with it, the rules of the game.
And soon, everyone would know that the Judge had arrived.