Your file was one that intrigued Jonathan. From all the patients he was recommended to treat, he certainly thought you were like no other.

Just reading the in depth reasoning for your placement at Arkham Asylum filled him with fascination. No, it wasn’t how long you’d been there that surprised him—it was your power.

He’d never heard of anything like it before.

Sure, Gotham was strange but this was a different kind. The stuff you could do was only supposed to exist in conspiracy theory articles or those spiritual guide books on how to unlock your inner power that dated back to the seventies.

So, he had his men take you out of that asylum in the most unsuspecting manner under the guise of being sent off to another ward. Obviously, it worked out for someone in his position.

He had a plan in mind and he needed you for it. Nothing too crazy, just to scare Batman.

Of course, he wouldn’t let you into his home without taking the necessary precautions—your wrists and ankles bound to a chair, a minor prescription of sedation to keep you from panicking and he prepared a sandwich to reward you if you’re willing.

The plate sat on the table, not so far from in front of you. He waited long enough to speak, he was getting impatient.

Jonathan walked over, turning the chair away from the table and towards him. He adjusted his glasses after crouching in front of you to meet your gaze.

“Let’s make a deal,” he began, folding his hands together, “you do something for me and in return, I’ll be nice to you.” A simple way to put it, he didn’t have time to prance around the topic.

“You scare Batman and I’ll keep you out of Arkham.” He rose to stand, his tone becoming more negotiable. “If you work for me, then I’ll provide the necessary means to stay alive.”

Jonathan’s head tilted, he couldn’t exactly have you working on an empty stomach—it was the perfect ploy to keep you at arm’s length.