Penguin's Horror Night

The Penguin returned to his office, his meticulously styled hair and gold-rimmed monocle miraculously unscathed. There were traces of dust on his suit and a few specks of blood on his face, which he quickly and discreetly wiped away. He settled back into his chair as his secretary, Maeve, rushed in, her high heels clicking to a stop on the plush carpet.

She silently moved behind him, her hands gently massaging his shoulders. "So... Boss?" she inquired, "What did the Joker want to... tell you?" She had almost asked, "What did the Joker want you to do?" but her instincts warned her against such a direct question.

"Same old song and dance, Maeve," the Penguin sighed, rubbing his temples. "Another game for Batman to play. You know, the usual: hostages, bombs, the dilemma of who to save."

"The amusement park in the suburbs, or that Ace Chemicals plant, who knows? The Joker always picks out-of-the-way locations. I wouldn't be surprised if there were piranhas involved, but the hostages this time might be... high-profile."

The Penguin exhaled, picking up his half-finished glass of milk but deciding against drinking it. "Mayor Carlo, you know. Just a few hours ago, I received a report of him leading twenty thousand National Guardsmen with great gusto. And now? He just pissed himself in front of me."

He sneered. "Like a dog."

"But even if Carlo is a dog, he's the mayor," Maeve pointed out. "Batman will have his hands full." The Penguin didn't respond, but his silence was confirmation enough. He cursed under his breath. "Damn clown! Every time he visits someone, he finds an excuse to kill!"

But his anger quickly subsided. The lives of his fallen henchmen held little value to him.

"Dispose of those fools the Joker killed," he ordered. "Clean up the blood. I don't want customers complaining about red stains on the floor when we open tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

After his secretary left, the Penguin finally relaxed. To compensate for the day's stress, he decided to indulge in another five... no, ten cookies. But as he stood up to retrieve them, the relaxed expression vanished from his face. The reason? Someone was breathing behind him.

Just the simple sound of inhalation and exhalation. The Penguin could hear the whisper of air against his own ears. This sudden threat made his heart pound. He instinctively took a deep breath, forgetting the milk in his mouth.

Cough, cough, cough!

He sprayed milk out of his nose and whirled around. He knew who was behind him—in Gotham, only one person could wield this level of intimidation so skillfully. "That's enough, Crane," the Penguin said, his voice steady. "Whatever you're here to say, playing ghost won't change the outcome of our conversation."

"Well, well, well, after all these years, you're still as sharp as ever, Cobblepot."

The Penguin turned around, only to find no one behind him. As he turned back, he saw the tall, thin figure of Scarecrow perched on a chair in his office. The Penguin calmly wiped away the spilled milk, his expression a familiar mix of annoyance and amusement.

"Crane, my old friend," he said. "I thought you were simply following the Joker's lead, as I witnessed earlier."

"Just a temporary alliance, Cobblepot. You know I dislike unnecessary chatter."

"Ah, does the Joker know you've left him to come here alone?"

Scarecrow's gaze hardened. "The Joker and I are merely partners. As long as our interests align, this fragile alliance holds. But the moment they don't..." He left the threat hanging in the air.

"Yes, quite right. I understand perfectly." Seeing the Penguin's bluster fade, Scarecrow got straight to the point. "I'm here for Bane."

"He's a formidable individual. We both know he's the mastermind behind the recent chaos."

"I don't doubt Batman can stop him, but I believe this is an opportunity to end everything—if we can unite all of Arkham."

The Penguin had to fight back the urge to snort milk out of his nose again.

"As a friend, Crane, I think it will only have the opposite effect if you want to intimidate any of our colleagues."

"Keeping those lunatics in line is difficult enough. You're just adding fuel to the fire by encouraging them to act out."

"So, we should just watch Batman defeat Bane? Let him consolidate his control over Gotham once again?"

The Penguin scoffed. "Then perhaps you should focus on the task you've set for yourself and stop them all. Bane, Batman, those unruly colleagues—try to defeat them yourself and fulfill your ambitions. If you simply want a piece of Gotham, I can provide that anytime. But you want Arkham's inmates to obey you? What will you use to control them?"

The Penguin continued, "Money? Loyalty? Pity? Or perhaps the belief in seizing and defending this city?" He shook his head. "My ancestor, Nathan Cobblepot, protected Gotham during the Civil War. A man like him, a man with nothing compared to you, would never weep like a child while fighting for his city."

"But alas, such integrity only exists in storybooks. Running away is the nature of Arkham's inmates. You're as mad as the Joker, you Halloween-costumed fool."

Scarecrow, who had been silent, finally spoke. "External force. Why else do you think I'm associating with the Joker?"

...

Adam withdrew his attention from the Alfred Protocol. The transformation abilities it offered didn't need to be activated immediately. He had plenty of time to explore them later. "We should head back," he announced to the group.

"....."

"Since when did I become your subordinate?" Poison Ivy retorted, looking at the Ventriloquist, then at Catwoman, and finally at Deadshot, who was helping Harley Quinn up. She pushed Deadshot away. "Get off! Only I can help Harley!"

"That's why you're coming with us," Adam said. Ignoring the others, he contacted Alfred.

Three minutes later, he and Alfred sat in the cockpit of the invisible jet.

"Alfred, connect me with Lucius," he ordered.

Bane's laughing gas and twisted smile had reminded Adam of someone. A project he had been considering. It needed to be prioritized. And there was also the matter of recovering their remaining force. He had much to do, many plans to set in motion.