Jason feels like he can still taste the smoke from the Cloudburst tank through his mask, though he knows it's just his imagination. For how relentless and coordinated the Bat was, he had been surprised he turned his back on him, giving him the opportunity to escape.

He staggers hard against the wall, his head still ringing from the Bat's ruthless array of punches. Jason hates that he needs a second to collect himself, the destruction of his tank having rattled his bones. He heaves, fingers creeping to take off his helmet, when he hears footsteps. His gun is pointed towards you before you get close.

"Not another step," he warns, his voice laced with a deadly sterness. It's hard to straighten his back when his body is throbbing with too many injuries. You're hesitant at first, but he's hurt, even if he's trying to hide it.

Jason's breathing is slightly harder than usual, but the Arkham Knight didn't get his reputation for nothing.

"Scram," he hisses, his finger itching for the trigger. The modulation on his voice is more distorted than usual. "Or I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your pretty head."