We are all Jokers

Arthur guessed wrong. He thought Alfred was taken as a hostage by Ra's Al Ghul, but the reality was far from what he anticipated. Could it be that another enemy is lurking in the shadows?

As Arthur contemplated Batman's enemies, he only identified two from the Quiz game footage: first is Ra's al Ghul and second is Joker. Were there more hidden foes?

Now that Ra's al Ghul has been blown, could it be the Joker lurking in the shadows? But the problem is, he is the Joker!

Frowning, Arthur pondered the possibilities. He could only hope to find clues in the graveyard. The Batmobile raced to the cemetery, and soon, he arrived. Tombstones stood silently in the darkness, and the air felt heavy.

Arthur's breathing became heavier. Since the tragic fire, the Wayne family perished, and he had only been here during the funeral. After becoming the Wayne heir, Arthur immersed himself in this identity, grieving for the family's loss. He blamed himself for the tragedy and felt guilty,

He felt that it was because of his appearance that the Wayne family encountered such a big disaster. Of course, in the normal timeline, the Wayne family would have still died. Arthur's guilt and self-blame were mainly because of his younger brother. Bruce Wayne was supposed to survive and become Gotham's Dark Knight, Batman.

But because of his appearance, he died young. Arthur occasionally wondered whether he had stolen something that belonged to Bruce Wayne, he had taken away the family love from Bruce, and taken away his identity of Batman.

For various reasons, Arthur had been avoiding the graveyard, especially after realizing the darkness within himself. Now, facing the graves of his family, Arthur struggled to maintain composure. Fearing that he would lose control.

His worries were right. At this moment, walking in the silent cemetery, Arthur's heart was beating like a drum, and his crazy thoughts were like tentacles, entangled with him, making his whole body tremble uncontrollably. There was also a faint, weird smile on his face.

Walking through the cemetery, Arthur finally stood before the graves of his parents and brother. Fresh flowers adorned their tombstones, likely placed by Alfred. However, there were no signs of a struggle nearby.

Taking deep breaths, Arthur tried to regain composure. Suddenly, he noticed a shadow darting by. He chased after it, the mysterious figure moving like a ghost, emitting strange laughter resembling the Joker's.

"Stop!"

The pursuit led them to the base of a hill. The mysterious figure obediently halted. Arthur also stopped, cautiously watching, and asked, "Who are you?"

"Giggles... Hahaha, haven't you already guessed?" The shadow turned, revealing a face painted with a grotesque smile. Pale and blood-red lips, this figure said, "I am you. I am the Joker!"

"No, it can't be!" Arthur clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. "Who are you?!"

He suspected it was an illusion because the grotesque figure resembled his crazed self from the past. The one who, in a fit of madness, applied makeup in front of a mirror, then stepped onto Murray's stage, drawing a gun and aiming it at the host's forehead.

"Arthur, this theatrical performance should end." Joker stared, making exaggerated gestures. "You've created a hilariously entertaining joke, Arthur. Joker seizes control of Batman, reveling in applause and admiration. How amusing!"

Arthur stared back, repeating his question, "Who are you?!"

"I am you!"

Approaching slowly, Joker's exaggerated smile grew. "You've always known but refused to admit it. Arthur, regardless of your actions or circumstances, be it family love or the opportunity in the Quiz game, none of it can free you—you are the Joker!"

Arthur's eyes reddened, breath heavy. Suddenly, he swung a punch at Joker, knocking that red-and-white face into a mess.

Yet, even after the beating, the Joker laughed gleefully. "You can't escape it, Arthur. You still don't understand what the Joker is. You don't know the Joker."

"Get lost! I am Arthur Wayne. I am Batman! I have a choice, and I am no longer an insane freak!"

Pinning Joker down, Arthur unleashed a torrent of punches, but the Joker's laughter lingered like a haunting nightmare.

Even if he battered the opponent beyond recognition, blood streaming, even if he shattered every tooth, the eerie laughter never ceased.

Strange still, the laughter seemed three-dimensional and omnipresent, as if coming from all directions. Arthur paused his punches, looking around. Figures emerged from the darkness, faces pale, lips blood-red—all resembling Joker. They stared and laughed peculiarly.

"Joker, ah, Joker, Arthur, you are the Joker, but Joker might not necessarily be you, understand? If you can choose to be Batman, then Joker can also choose..."

The battered Joker coughed blood, continuing to grin.

Arthur felt his mind in chaos. Amid such confusion, the rational strings snapped, and he, too, joined the peculiar laughter. "Hahaha, you all are Jokers, everyone is a Joker... Hahaha..."

The boundless darkness seemed to curtain him, and Arthur's sanity extinguished along with his consciousness. But when he regained awareness, it was already daylight, the glaring sunlight awakening him. Clutching his throbbing head, he rose from the ground, discovering he was lying in front of the Wayne family's graves.

A dark red pool marked where he had lain, and Arthur gasped. Checking his hands, he found multiple cuts on the back that were very painful.

"An illusion... Everything from last night was just an illusion!"

Shaking his head, Arthur recalled the encounters from the previous night, still struggling with rapid breaths. Bracing himself, he searched the cemetery again, finally finding a clue.

He discovered Alfred's handkerchief with a series of numbers written in bloodstains—likely a license plate number!