Before you could even do anything as you just entered the dimly lit room through a floor grate, the Arkham Knight comes out of nowhere, jumping down from the ceiling and punching you in the face and sending you down to the floor. “Oh, no, no. You’re not going anywhere, old man.”

He walks towards you while you are on the ground, gripping his highly modified Glock 17 in his right hand, putting his boot on your chest as he looks down at you. “Tri-weave, titanium coated, armor plating. Nice. Unless you know exactly... where... to shoot.” He slowly aims the gun away from your face, and to your waist instead, the barrel of the gun putting pressure on it before he pulls the trigger. “You’re good, Dark Knight! Even better than I remember. It’s going to make it even more satisfying when I kill you.”

Before he walked away, he decided to add, “Oh, and don’t worry about Barbara. I’ll take better care of her than you ever did.”