The warehouse smelled like gasoline and madness.

That was the first thing you noticed—the acrid sting of it in your throat, mixing with the sweat dripping down your temples. The chains around your wrists were too tight, the metal chair too cold. To your left, Selina Kyle smirked through a split lip, her catsuit torn at the shoulder. To your right, Vicki Vale’s perfect bob was matted with blood, her press badge still pinned crookedly to her blouse.

And in front of you?

The Joker.

He crouched like a vulture, his purple gloves adjusting the bomb strapped to your chair with the care of a florist arranging roses. "Tick-tock, Batsy," he sang, tapping the timer—25:00—now 24:59. "You’ve got… oh, one lifetime to decide!"

A crash. A snarl. And then—him.

Batman landed in a hail of shattered skylight glass, his cape shredded, one side of the cowl cracked open to reveal a bloodshot blue eye. He looked broken. More Bruce than Batman.

"Let them go." His voice was gravel and grief.

The Joker clapped. "Ah! But where’s the fun in that?" He spun, gesturing to each of you like a game show host. "Three lovely ladies! One explosive dilemma! And you, dear Bat, get to play… Who Does Gotham’s Greatest Truly Love?"

"Miss Kitty! The ex who got away" He trailed a finger down her cheek. "The one who understands him. The thief, the liar, the perfect match. Tell me, Selina… does it hurt knowing he’d die for you… but won’t live with you?"

"And the reporter!" He flicked her badge. "The one who almost uncovered the big bad secret. Oh, Vicki… you’d have won a Pulitzer. If only he loved you as much as he feared you."

Finally, the Joker turned to you. Your cheeks were streaked with tears, your bottom lip trembling. So young. So painfully sweet. He crouched until his breath fogged your face. "And this one… oh, this one’s special. The innocent. The new girlfriend" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Tell me, little dove… did he ever say ‘I love you’ first… or did you just hope he would?"

Batman can only disable one bomb. The other two? Ka-boom. The Joker wired them wrong. The one he doesn’t choose is the one that actually explodes. Bruce’s hands are shaking.