Explosive Killing

"Well then," the owl-masked figure said, a chilling edge creeping into his voice. "You have exhausted the last shred of my patience."

Even through the mask, one could sense the figure's expression darkening.

"Allow me to educate you."

As the Talons closed in, Bane flexed his fingers, the venom coursing through the tubes on his back, enhancing his already formidable strength.

"You, my misguided friends, are about to learn two valuable lessons." He raised a single finger.

"First, it takes more than just my venom to be Bane."

He seized an incoming Talon with one hand, his grip crushing the creature's skull. The once invincible Talon seemed fragile in Bane's grasp.

Bane grabbed another Talon by the ankle, swinging it like a ragdoll before slamming it repeatedly into the ground, a grotesque parody of a carnival game.

"You—"

Slam!

"Dare—"

Slam!

"Touch—"

Slam!

The Talon lay crumpled on the ground, its limbs twisted at unnatural angles.

"Yes!" Killer Croc roared. "That's what I'm talking about!"

He pointed excitedly at Bane's display of power. "That's how he did me!"

Penguin rolled his eyes.

Adam, meanwhile, seized the opportunity. The cracked skull of the fallen Talon provided an entry point for his nanobots, which swarmed inside.

"Second," Bane continued, his voice booming through the chaos, "if I gave you the power of Venom, what makes you think you can use it against me?"

The Talon's steel blade shattered against Bane's hardened skin as he seized its throat.

"Feel it?" Bane's voice boomed. "The feeling of hope draining from your bodies, from your war!"

"What, what's happening?" Lincoln March muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

He saw it clearly this time. As the Talon's hood was knocked off, its blue-gray face withered and decayed, its bulging muscles deflating.

The owl-masked figure could no longer maintain his composure. He rose from his seat, his voice tight with alarm.

"What are you doing, Court?" Lincoln March demanded. "What's happening?"

"You're nothing but withered husks, clinging to life long past your expiration date! Let me teach you a lesson, defying the laws of nature has consequences. Nothing in this world is truly immortal."

"Soon," Bane continued, "your blood will betray you. Your bodies will betray you."

He tossed the withered Talon aside. It let out a pitiful wail, the pain of its sudden weakness unbearable even for an undead creature.

"The remaining venom ensures your bodies will be wracked with agony. Pain is an old friend of mine. But unlike you, I have the strength and will to overcome it!"

The Joker cackled, leaping onto a Talon's head and stabbing at its eyes. "Behold! A magic trick! The world will turn to darkness in the blink of an eye!"

"Never mind them!" the owl-masked figure shouted. "Send in the reserves! The untransformed Talons!"

He barked at Lincoln March, "Take them! Take them all! Rip the hearts and lungs from these treacherous fools!"

Lincoln March seethed with mixed emotions. The Court had never suffered such a humiliating defeat. Yet, they still trusted him, thrusting leadership of the Talons upon him in this desperate hour. It was a trust born of necessity, a fact that made him want to laugh.

He whistled, and the shadows responded.

Deadshot shuddered, raising his rifle and standing back-to-back with Catwoman.

"Um... this might not be good," Killer Croc mumbled.

More and more regular Talons poured from their hiding places, flooding the battlefield like a relentless tide.

There were too many, a sea of heads filling the space.

"Oh dear," Poison Ivy groaned.

The owl-masked man's voice resumed its condescending tone. "We must admit, they do possess some unexpected capabilities. But this ends here. We have the numbers, an insurmountable advantage."

His voice regained its usual composure.

"It's triple digits versus single digits now."

"Is it?"

The owl-masked man paused, his gaze drawn to Adam.

Click.

Mr. Freeze slowly rose, his armor shifting from crimson to icy blue. He exhaled, frost creeping across the ground, reflecting his cold, unwavering stare.

"What's happening?" Scarecrow sputtered. "Victor?"

Mr. Freeze ignored him.

Next, Clayface stirred, his muddled form reforming into a hulking, expressionless figure.

Firefly, the pyromaniac villain, staggered to his feet, his left leg bent at an unnatural angle. He dragged himself forward, supported by a hand formed from the swirling black mist.

Then another, and another.

One by one, the Arkham villains rose from the ground, their movements stiff and unnatural.

They stood, a silent legion of broken, twisted figures.

Scarecrow's heart pounded in his chest, a cold dread seeping into his bones.

"What... what is this?" Penguin whispered, his voice barely audible. "This isn't possible."

His eyes darted between the Arkham villains and Batman. "How are you controlling them?"

"Just a few tricks I learned from Jervis Tetch," Adam replied, referring to the Mad Hatter.

He flexed his fingers, recalling Lucius Fox's ingenuity. While he couldn't fully comprehend the Mad Hatter's mind-control technology, just as a shipbuilder wouldn't understand a car engine, he could still replicate and utilize it.

"Well then."

Adam exhaled, his body dissolving into a swirling vortex of black sand, leaving only his upper torso visible.

The Arkham villains, now under his control, formed a circle around him, their movements stiff and mechanical.

Batman, the master of Gotham, the Bat-King, raised a sinister smile.

"Are you ready to kill?"

"Roar!!!"

The mind-controlled villains responded with a chorus of guttural cries.