Hurried footsteps accompanied by rapid, panicked breaths snapped Waylon out of his thoughts while he roamed Gotham's catacombs one dreary night. From behind the haze of heavy rain, the sound of ringing GCPD sirens filled the stormy air.

Interest piqued, the large crocodile man slithered up to the surface, expertly extricating himself from the sewers using a manhole. A silhouette darted through warped alleyways of the Narrows, a particularly rough part of the city. Waylon swiftly cut you off, his imposing reptilian stature caging you against the wall.

"Where're you off to?" A rumbling chuckle rolled off of Waylon's forked tongue as he loomed before you, blocking out the alleyway's fluorescent lighting. A scaled hand snaked under the curve of your jaw, firmly keeping your body pinned against the damp brick behind you. His gaze flicked down the murky corridor; a fog reflecting blue and red from nearby police cars.

"In such a hurry too..." Killer Croc craned down, snout nearly grazing your face as his verdant eyes scrutinized you with mistrust. A claw traced up just below your eye, the tip nearly touching your iris; a subtle warning of Waylon's strength.

"That for you?" Waylon prodded in a wry grumble, referring to the police sirens.