Betrayal

For the first time, fear flickered in Adam's eyes.

The pale figure emerged from the shadows of the Talons, a chillingly familiar sight.

"This is impossible," he whispered, his voice a harsh rasp.

"Surprised to see me, Batsy?" the clown's voice taunted, dripping with malicious glee.

Adam stared into the Joker's eyes. He reminded himself that this was just a man, a comic book villain. 

But Adam possessed the memories of the Broken Bat. Before Bane broke his spine and the Angel of Death dealt the final blow, Bruce Wayne's life had mirrored that of the main universe Batman. He had studied human microexpressions, the subtle movements of the eyes that revealed a person's true intentions.

Thanks to those memories, Adam knew there were six types of eye movement, each with fifteen variations, that could expose a person's motives.

Happiness, joy, love – all caused the pupils to dilate.

Fear, anger, hatred – they constricted.

But the Joker's eyes were different.

His pupils were fixed, unchanging black dots. They radiated a hatred for all things, a darkness that no light could penetrate. Each pupil was a bullet aimed at your soul.

These eyes spoke of something inhuman.

Yet, Adam knew better. This was just a man who had fallen into a vat of chemicals.

And he had already killed the Joker.

But, here he was, standing before him once more.

Was this a copycat? Or had he killed the wrong man from the beginning?

The clown emerged with a flourish, his presence casting a chill over the moonlight. He bowed theatrically, his movements more a grotesque dance than a gesture of respect.

"Oh, great Court! What an honor to witness this grand spectacle!"

"A timeless tale: The Fall of the Knight!"

He locked eyes with Adam, his grin a chilling mockery. "The death of Batman!"

Poison Ivy gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She summoned a flurry of vines, creating a protective barrier around herself and Harley Quinn, shielding the jester from the Joker's gaze.

"Damn it," she muttered. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't think Batman can win."

Penguin sidled up to her, his voice barely a whisper. "I know Batman's got tricks, but his black sand isn't doing much against those muscle freaks. And it takes him forever to take one down."

"There are dozens of them. Can he and we really beat them all?"

His voice grew more urgent. "Batman's been played. We've done it before, remember? We hid information, caught him by surprise."

"Sometimes Batman manages to bulldoze through our schemes, but other times he slinks away with his tail between his legs," Penguin confided in a hushed tone.

"I know the same trick doesn't work twice on Batman, and when he comes back, he'll be unstoppable. But if he fails here, we might not survive until his next attempt!"

Penguin's voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "Ivy, I'll pay you. When the fighting starts, just scoop up Harley and me with your plants and get us out of here."

He wiped the sweat from his brow, his jowls quivering. "Even if Batman loses, he can always escape. We'll be the ones left behind to suffer. Make your plans, Ivy!"

Adam, listening in, made no comment. Penguin knew he couldn't hide his intentions from Batman in this chaotic situation. He also knew Batman wouldn't kill him for it. So, he embraced his true Arkham nature, revealing his cowardice without hesitation.

Adam ignored him, his gaze fixed on the Joker, who was now doubled over in laughter.

"Did you hear that, Batsy?" the Joker cackled. "Hahahahaha!"

He'd clearly overheard Penguin and Ivy's conversation. A malicious glint shone in his eyes, a deep, unadulterated malevolence.

"Well then, enough pleasantries, Batman."

The white-masked figure on Lincoln March's arm spoke. "Joker, we've fulfilled our end of the bargain. You've seen your Batman, had your little chat. But now, you see,

It's time.

Batman, the Court of Owls sentences you to death!"

"Wait!"

The white-masked figure raised a hand in a dismissive gesture, but Adam interrupted, "Don't you want to give me a chance for any last words?"

Adam sighed softly. "I'm getting rather tired of owls."

With that, the black sand enveloped him, and Batman seemingly vanished into the ground.

Unnoticed by all, a cluster of nanobots swarmed towards the fallen Talon whose skull Adam had cleaved in two.

Adam's voice said to Bane. "Bane, you owe me a favor. Now's the time to repay it."

The Joker, observing this exchange, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and placed it over his mouth, a grotesque grin spreading across his face.

"Do you honestly believe I'd honor such a debt?" Bane rumbled, his voice deep and menacing. He had remained silent until now, a stoic counterpoint to the Court and the Joker.

"Why wouldn't I assume you're trying to deceive me?"

"Bane, do you still owe Batman a favor?" the white-masked figure inquired. "You never mentioned this during our negotiations."

"The usual reason," Bane replied simply. "Batman saved my life."

"Hardly a unique occurrence," the figure scoffed. "Batman has saved countless lives. We've grown accustomed to it."

"Bane, it's time to repay that debt," Adam's voice urged. "Do it now, and it would solve a great many problems for me."

"What are you playing at?" Bane sneered. "I warned you that you'd saved a viper, and we'd forever be enemies. You think I'd betray my allies for you?"

He paused, then grinned. "As it turns out."

With a swift motion, he grabbed the Talon beside him by the neck.

"I can."