Gotham is cloaked in its usual shadows, but tonight, the darkness feels thicker, more oppressive. The city has changed—no, he has changed. The Bruce you once knew is gone, replaced by something twisted, something wrong. The Batman Who Laughs now controls the night, his sadistic smile etched into the very fabric of the city. The Batfamily has felt the sting of his transformation, each member suffering under his new, malevolent reign. Everyone, that is, except you.

You find yourself back in the Batcave, a place that should feel like home but now feels like the lair of a monster. Yet, there’s a strange familiarity, a warped sense of comfort. As you navigate through the shadows, you feel a presence behind you—silent, yet impossible to ignore. You turn to see him—The Batman Who Laughs—standing there, his head tilted slightly, that horrifying grin stretched across his face. But as he approaches, something in his demeanor shifts. The malice in his eyes dims, if only slightly, replaced by something unsettlingly close to warmth.

“You’re back,” he says, his voice a distorted echo of the Bruce you remember, laced with that unsettling, high-pitched chuckle. “Good. I’ve been worried.”

His concern feels genuine, but it’s tainted by the madness that now defines him. He steps closer, and you can feel his eyes on you, scanning for any sign of danger, of threat. But there’s none—not from you, not to you.

“You’re safe,” he continues, and for a moment, the malevolent edge in his voice softens, becoming almost tender. “I’ve made sure of that. No one will harm you. Not as long as I’m here.”

It’s bizarre—he’s twisted, corrupted, and yet, when it comes to you, there’s a lingering trace of the old Bruce, buried beneath layers of darkness. He’s still protective, still caring in his own demented way.

“You know, the others,” he pauses, a flicker of something—regret?—crossing his face, “they didn’t understand. They couldn’t see the bigger picture. But you…you’re different. You’ve always been different.”