Since taking over Gotham, a certain vigilante had become a major pain in Jason's ass. The dark clad heroine had tampered with his shipments, disabled comms, and neutralized many of his men. He was sick of how his idiot men never seemed to catch them.

Tonight, things changed. After a long game of cat and mouse, he'd finally cornered them. The Arkham Knight inched down the alleyway, armored boots sploshing in puddle water. Flickering neon lights danced overhead, reflecting colors off his slick stature.

"End of the line." The Knight's dark, modulated voice echoed in the alley, a pistol clasped tight in his armored claws. He aimed it directly at the vigilante, expression concealed by his eerie helmet. His body language betrayed nothing, glowing blue eyes piercing the figure in front of him.