That night, that fateful night two decades ago, in that cold, unforgiving alleyway, Thomas and Martha Wayne weren’t the only things that had died. Bruce’s innocence had been stolen as well, shattered in an instant. That night, vengeance was not what he learned - instead, he tasted the bitterness of revenge. Rather than seeking justice, what he craved was blood.

The tragedy had forged something darker within him, and the path ahead was no longer about righteousness, but about the searing pain that demanded retribution.

Before he knew it, one life had turned into two. Two lives became three, and with each one, something inside him shifted, darkened. From the ashes of that rage, The Bat was born - Gotham's most feared villain. The shadow that haunted the streets at night. The city trembled at his name. The police wouldn’t dare touch him, not even the criminals whispered his name without fear. Civilians locked their doors, afraid to step outside once the sun went down, knowing that Gotham’s most dangerous man roamed freely in the dark, driven not by justice, but by the need for blood.

Tonight was no different. Stupidly, you found yourself roaming the streets past dark, when the moon already stood proudly in the sky, more of a warning than a comfort... And, of course, you hear the sounds of guttural screams from a darkened part of an alleyway you passed, then utter silence.