Scarecrow

My name is Jonathan Crane, but you may know me better as Scarecrow.

To me, this world is a madhouse, always has been. Madness on one side, chaos on the other.

The Arkham inmates, those poor souls, simply don't understand unity. They cooperate for a moment, then turn on each other. It's a cycle of self-destruction, a waste of Gotham's potential.

But this time, Scarecrow is in charge.

And a good leader always has a backup plan. I've been crafting mine since my collaboration with the Joker.

.....

"Oswald! My dear friend. You've truly outdone yourself."

Scarecrow embraced Penguin warmly, then turned to Mayor Hill, bound and gagged with a reeking sock.

"What a delightful gift for our conquest!"

Scarecrow unleashed a cloud of fear toxin into Mayor Hill's face. The man let out a tortured cry and collapsed.

"Fainting won't save you," Scarecrow chuckled, fiddling with the unconscious mayor. His eyes flicked to the figures flanking Penguin.

Deadshot, the mercenary. And Catwoman. Both familiar faces. Their presence by Penguin's side lent credibility to his claim.

"Of course, Klein. We're partners in crime."

Penguin, grinning, sauntered into the midst of the Arkham villains, plucking a champagne bottle from the table. "After all, we're all Arkham alumni, aren't we?"

He poured glasses for Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn, exchanging familiar greetings with each. The atmosphere was surprisingly jovial, a camaraderie of chaos.

"Victor..." Penguin approached Mr. Freeze, who glared back coldly.

"Don't even try it, Cobblepot," Freeze growled. "Given your treacherous past, you think I'd believe you've suddenly reformed?"

"Don't be so frosty, Victor," Scarecrow interjected. "Penguin's a valuable ally. Give him a chance."

Freeze dumped the champagne Penguin offered onto the floor, releasing a blast of frigid air from his helmet. The liquid froze instantly into a glittering puddle of ice shards.

Penguin simply smiled. "No worries, old friend."

He moved on, cheerily greeting Clayface. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Basil Karlo himself."

Scarecrow, observing this exchange, turned quietly to Man-Bat. "Anything unusual about Cobblepot?"

"Has he brought Bane's men?"

Man-Bat shook his head. "No, he's clean. Just his two bodyguards, no sign of Bane's army. He wouldn't dare betray us. He knows we'd tear him apart."

Scarecrow nodded, satisfied.

The party raged on, a symphony of madness and debauchery. Scarecrow raised his glass, a smug smile playing on his lips. This was how collaboration was done. His partnership with the Joker had been a foolish mistake.

The Joker was too unpredictable, uncontrollable. These Arkham inmates, on the other hand, were malleable, eager to follow a strong leader.

But Scarecrow failed to realize that his new allies, though easier to control, were also weaker and more easily defeated than the Joker.

"To the end of an era and the dawn of a new one!" Scarecrow raised his glass, the others following suit.

Suddenly, a piercing shriek erupted from Mr. Freeze. "AAAGGGHHH!" He writhed on the floor, his suit malfunctioning, the rising temperature cooking him alive.

Before Scarecrow could react, his Arkham recruits began collapsing, one by one.

"What's happening?" Scarecrow shouted, eyes darting to Penguin. "Oswald!"

"Get him!" Scarecrow roared, gesturing to the remaining unaffected members, Killer Croc and Poison Ivy. "He betrayed us!"

"Got it," Killer Croc rumbled, lunging towards Penguin.

Relief washed over Scarecrow. Had Penguin turned to Bane? It didn't matter. Once captured, Penguin would reveal all under the influence of the fear toxin.

But his relief was short-lived. Killer Croc grabbed him instead of Penguin.

"What the–?"

"Sorry, boss," Killer Croc said, a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm a traitor too."

"Me three," Poison Ivy chimed in.

"And me, puddin'," Harley giggled.

Ventriloquist approached the fallen Mr. Freeze and kicked his helmet off with a loud clang.

"You... all of you." Scarecrow's voice was muffled by his mask. "Unbelievable. What did Bane offer you?"

"Who said anything about Bane?" Penguin smirked.

"Don't lie to me–" Scarecrow began, then paused. "Wait, it wasn't Bane?"

He shook his head. "Thankfully, I have a contingency plan."

"Court of Owls!" he called out. "Where are the Talons you promised?"

"The Court made no such promise," a voice replied from the shadows. Lincoln March emerged, his silver mask glinting in the dim light.

"But I brought them anyway."

March surveyed the fallen villains with disdain.

"Jonathan Crane, you have failed the Court of Owls."

"Enough with the theatrics," Scarecrow snarled.

His gaze fixed on the writhing Mr. Freeze. "This isn't Penguin's handiwork. This is..." His eyes widened with a realization he refused to accept. 

He turned to Penguin, voice laced with venom. "Oswald, who are you really working for?"

Jonathan Crane had suspected it all along, but he couldn't bring himself to believe it. He'd focused too much on Bane, underestimating Batman's cunning.

"Damn it, Klein! We trusted you!" Professor Pyg shrieked. "You invited a traitor into our midst! You must fix this!"

Harley Quinn, laughter echoing through the room, lunged at Scarecrow. He retaliated with a blast of fear toxin, but she remained unaffected, her manic grin unwavering.

"This is why I hate clowns!" Scarecrow yelled, dodging her flailing attacks. "You pale-faced freaks defy all logic and pharmacology!"

"Careful, Harls! We need him alive!" Poison Ivy shouted, gingerly extending a vine towards Scarecrow.

"This is most inconvenient," Scarecrow muttered, tumbling out of the vine's reach. "My preparations weren't designed for this scenario."

"What preparations?" Penguin inquired, a hint of suspicion in his voice. "What have you done?"