Solomon Grundy

Boom! 

Poison Ivy, commanding the Wood Dragon and the giant plant crab, clashed fiercely with Bane. The towering Bane effortlessly lifted the crab, flipped it, and threw it to the ground. He leaped onto it, laughing maniacally as he pounded it like a drum. 

Adam was at a loss for words. Robin stood beside him, asking, "Should I call Zatanna?" Adam stammered, 'I'm not... good at fighting.'

"Do you want me to call her or not? I don't think Poison Ivy can hold out against Bane for much longer."

'Damn it, call someone! Quick!' Adam's heart pounded, but he maintained a calm facade. Standing atop a large boulder in the swamp, he struck a heroic pose and declared, "Don't worry, I anticipated this outcome." He tried to reassure Robin, adding, "Everything is going according to plan".

And below were the five people who were beaten up by Bane alone. So far, no one was injured. Suddenly, Count Vertigo rushed into Bane's attack range as if possessed. Deadshot couldn't fathom the idiot's reasoning. Oh! he thought. Maybe he's relying on his ability to disorient people, and the closer he gets, the stronger the effect. He was literally trying to headbutt Bane to activate his power. 

Deadshot could only shake his head in disbelief. Strength, speed, experience, fighting skills, Vertigo was outmatched in every way. This was like stealing from the shopkeeper right under his nose.

What an idiot. 

Bane effortlessly caught Vertigo, then grabbed his upper and lower body, hoisting him high above his head. With a sickening crack, Vertigo's black blood splattered onto Bane's head. 

... 

Every Saturday, the Gotham Gazette dedicated a small section to a lifestyle column called "Gotham Is..." 

The column featured random Gotham citizens completing the sentence "Gotham is..." with no more than three words. Bane had loved this column when he first arrived in Gotham. Here were some of the words used to describe Gotham over the past few weeks: 

"Damned." "Cursed." "Asylum." "Murderous." "Gotham is vicious." "Gotham is doomed." "Gotham is hopeless." 

Bane embraced the chaos. He once believed a city as sinful as Gotham should be his to conquer. It would be a great regret if such a prize wasn't in his grasp. But now, those thoughts were gone. He felt his heart leap with joy, his whole being light as air. All the troubles and frustrations of the past days dissolved in his laughter. He felt boundless energy, consumed by a manic euphoria. It was strange—he had always been so serious, so bitter and vengeful, but inhaling the Joker's gas had rendered those emotions meaningless. What plans? What conquest? 

None of it mattered now. All he wanted was to kill Batman. To hell with Gotham! Whoever wanted this rotten city could have it, he didn't care anymore. And he felt invincible. Because, because, he was a warrior of justice, a hero fighting against evil— Bane! 

This thought made him grin and laugh even louder. The chilling laughter made Deadshot's legs weak. The trees were no obstacle for Bane. The twisting, snake-like branches that writhed on the ground were nothing but fodder for his monstrous strength. Bane felt unstoppable. He didn't need to strategize. He would simply tear down Poison Ivy's green shield, then go straight for the kill, taking out everyone present.

But then, a dark gray figure emerged to stop him. Solomon Grundy. 

Unlike many of Gotham's villains, this hulking zombie possessed virtually no sanity. Controlling him required special measures. "Solomon Grundy... born on a Monday," Killer Croc recited, standing beside Adam, panting heavily. He was covered in mud, his tongue lolling out. "Man, that zombie swims almost as fast as me! I had to lure him here with a cow." 

The hulking zombie was indeed feasting on the cow. Killer Croc turned to Adam. "Alright, Batman, uh..." He looked away, muttering, "This feels really weird." 

"You'll get used to it, Croc," Adam reassured him. "Times change, and ypu must adapt." While responding to Alfred's call, he said to Killer Croc, "You know what they say, 'Two heads are better than one.'" 

"Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday!" the zombie grunted between bites. "Solomon Grundy, 

was..." 

"No, Solomon Grundy was born on a Tuesday!" The zombie paused, then roared in anger. "Lies! Born on a Monday!" 

"Batman, hurry up! We can't hold him much longer!" Deadshot yelled. "We're gonna die here!" 

"Solomon Grundy, died on Monday!" Adam continued. "Married on Wednesday!" "Christened on Saturday!" A booming voice came from the sky. The zombie looked up, confused and enraged. 

"No! No! All wrong!" 

The enraged zombie searched the sky for the voice, but Batman's invisible jet was nowhere to be seen. So, his fury turned... towards Bane. "Who meddled with Grundy's rhyme?" 

Deadshot and Poison Ivy exchanged glances, then pointed at Bane. "He did it!" Deadshot shouted, pointing at Bane. 

"What? Hiccup... hahaha..." Bane continued his manic laughter, oblivious to the danger looming behind him. A split second later, Solomon Grundy's massive fist connected with Bane's face.

Crack! 

Bane's face caved in like a smashed cake. The sound of bones breaking filled the air, a pain even the combined effects of Venom and Joker's gas couldn't mask. Bane let out a tortured wail, his laughter abruptly silenced. "Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday! Grundy told you, Grundy born on a Monday!!!" 

"Why won't you understand? Born—on—Monday!" 

"You idiot, that's not what I said!" Bane bellowed, his voice muffled as Solomon Grundy's hand covered half his face. "You—" But before he could finish, the puddle of black ooze on the ground suddenly leaped onto Bane's face, merging with the Count Vertigo's blood that had splattered there earlier. Adam's heart sank. 

The Black of Decay, the moment he had been waiting for, had finally arrived. He watched as Bane's eyes turned an eerie gray.