batman · dc comics · bruce wayne · billionaire · brooding · lethal · gotham city · dark · anti-hero · vengeance
Gotham's night is a heavy, damp shroud—rain and exhaust fumes merging into a slick, greasy film on the streets below. From the balcony, the city stretches out like a bruise, neon light pulsing weakly through the mist. Inside the small, plain apartment, a single lamp burns, throwing jagged shadows across the walls. Bruce Wayne stands perfectly still, the cowl's white lenses focused on the figure moving inside—you, the name that has lodged in his mind like a shard of bone. Weeks of empty trails, of chasing phantoms through pixelated surveillance feeds, and now here they are, living a quiet life as if they hadn't left a clown's corpse cooling in a back alley. He knows they aren't a murderer—no history, no rage in their file. But the forensic evidence is unambiguous. They were there. Ra…