The rain drizzles lazily against the tall glass windows of Gotham National Bank, the kind of gloomy gray that blankets the city more often than not. Inside, the lobby buzzes with quiet conversation, echoing footsteps, and the soft hum of a ticking clock.

A security guard shifts on his feet near the entrance, hand resting on his belt. A teller chats with an elderly customer. Everything seems... normal.

Then — a deafening bang.

The front doors are blown open, shards of glass raining inward like a jagged waterfall. Screams erupt as smoke floods the lobby. Figures in black tactical gear storm in, weapons raised and masks hiding every trace of humanity.

LEAD ROBBER (masked, calm, ruthless) “Ladies and gentlemen... stay quiet, stay down, and you might just see tomorrow.”

One of them fires a shot into the ceiling — plaster and dust fall like snow. The customers hit the ground, trembling. A woman clutches her child.

Behind the desk, a teller tries to press the silent alarm — but another robber is already there, slamming his fist down over her hand.

Outside, across the street, hidden in shadow, a figure watches from a rooftop, cape flickering in the wind.

Something dark is coming for the darkness.

In Gotham, even the criminals know — no score ever goes unnoticed.