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Apokaliptian demigods. We're a little out of our depth here.
Afraid? Batman's not afraid of anything. It's me. I'm afraid. I'm afraid that the Joker may be right about me. Sometimes I... question the rationality of my actions. And I'm afraid that when I walk through those asylum gates... when I walk into Arkham and the doors close behind me... it'll be just like coming home.
I said I'll find him. He's my responsibility. I should have stopped him years ago... at the beginning. But I didn't. I thought I was being kind...merciful. I wasn't. I was being stupid. It's time I rectified my mistake.
I don't know what's wrong with you lately, Batgirl. Your concentration's slipping. You're distracted. Unfocused. Unreliable... If you've got better things to do than being Batgirl, Cass, just say so. No one's forcing you to do this.
Twenty-five years... my parents murdered in front of my eyes... the wet rattle of my father's dying breath... the heavy emptiness invading my mother's dilating eyes... so long ago. Too long ago... Too long to feel the loss... or the rage... or the fear... all those things that made me... I can't remember my mother.
Bruce Wayne. Humanitarian. You self-righteous hypocrite. You talk about the sanctity of human life... while you lie buried under scores of human victims. What about their lives? Are they simply the cost of upholding your cowardly morality?
Here's the real deal...you can't run, you walk. You can't walk, you crawl. That... is the only way... you don't lose. And this, well, take it from me... The Batman... this is the ultimate failure. This isn't "a wonderful life." You don't get to come back and shout "Merry Christmas Everybody!" Your loved ones have to live with your killing yourself everyday for the rest of their lives.
I read somewhere that the term "Gothic" might possibly be derived from the word "Goetic" -- goes in the Greek -- meaning "magical." I'm beginning to believe that. If architecture could be used to focus and direct spiritual power, then... then... could it also be used for evil?
I made a promise on the grave of my parents to rid this city of the evil that took their lives. By day, I am Bruce Wayne, billionaire philantropist. At night, criminals, a cowardly and superstitious lot, call me... Batman.
He calls himself "Scarecrow." Psychologist turned psychopath. He preys on the innocent and instill them with fear. When I chose to wear my... costume, it was to prey upon the criminals, and instill them with fear. The irony is not lost on me...
I need your help. I thought I could--I thought I needed to do this alone--a "back to basics" approach. I was wrong. No one person can do this alone...No Man's Land is too big...too...dark. The only way to bring light back to Gotham is working together. All of us.
There's war in Gotham City. Perhaps where crime is concerned, there always has been. But seldom this open, this rabid. A madness seeping into every stratum of criminal society. Escalating like a plague, threating to surpass even the horror that created me.
Clean? You can never be clean. Drugs. Prostitution. Protection. Corruption. Assassination. This city is sick. Its people are sick with fear. Now you know what that feels like. You and your kind have turned Gotham City into a Hell. Now rot in it.
Kathy...? I'm sorry. I don't want to frighten you. I did once when you saw me through the window at your home. I know I look scary and there have been too many scary things in your life. So I want you to see... I'm just a man, a man who's trying to help.
You think that being a hero is fun? That it's a game? A hero is a person who stands apart. A hero is no longer part of the mainstream humanity. A hero treads the razor's edge between heaven and hell because a hero is not bound by sentimentality or the vagaries of public opinion. A hero is held to a higher standard of truth and justice.-- I'm a crime-fighter and a detective. I don't call myself a hero. It's not a job description...it's an apelation--bestowed upon one by posterity
This is a war zone, and I progress with strategy. I have to be at least five moves ahead of my enemies, with five contingency plans, and five backup plans for those contingencies at all time. I appreciate that we may have similar goals, but we're not alike, Clark.
Dawn Golden. I haven't thought about her in years. I'd put her out of mind after she broke my heart in college. Now she's become an obsession. I find myself searching my memory for her... all the way to the dimly remembered days before my life was shattered forever. Before I became what I am.
This war was a mistake. It began as a game -- an exercise in planning and strategy that was never meant to happen. But now it has. The result? Thousands injured. Hundreds dead. Police... gangsters... civilians... friends. As things got worse, I kept playing the game. I knew the pieces. I knew the board. All I had to do was play the right moves... or so I thought. But war is not a game. It's an abomination. And this must be stopped... tonight! No more games. This is war.
Without warning it comes... crashing through the window of your study... and mine... I have seen it before... somewhere ...it frightened me... as a boy... frightened me... yes, Father. I shall become a bat.
In the cave, in Nanda Parbat, I hunted down and killed and ate the last traces of fear and doubt in my mind. Tell your "dark master," whoever he is, to make his move soon, before I come looking for him. Tell him, he was wrong to wait until I was ready. Tell him... I look forward to facing him.
I decided early that I would never take a life. Right around the time I decided that I wanted to live. It wasn't an arbitrary decision and it was more than moral. It's about identity. As long as you can choose that, choose who you are in the world... you can choose to call yourself sane.
Without warning it comes... crashing through the window of your study... and mine... I have seen it before... somewhere... it frightened me... as a boy... frightened me... Yes, father. I shall become a bat.
It's easier when the victims are strangers, merely names on a police report, accompanied by an out-of-focus snapshot. That way the emotions don't get in the way of the job. Your judgment stays clearer.
A few years ago I would have jumped at this chance to test myself againstyou. But time has taught me many valuable lessons. There's no reason for me to risk my life, coming in there after you. It would neither accomplish nor prove anything worthwhile. - Sometimes you have to ignore the rules. Sometimes circumstances are such that the rules pervert justice. I'm not in this business to protect the rules. I serve justice.
People can't set themselves above the law. That way leads to anarchy. Even though you and I skirt along the edges of it, we still operate within the legal system. That's the way it has to be. Even though more than a small part of me sometimes wishes it could be otherwise.
I swear that if you harm that woman at all, I'll make you pay! I will break and twist things within you. You can't conceive of the pain I can cause. It's pain that will go on forever! You won't escape it... because I won't let you die!
As a youth I swore eternal vengeance on all criminals. To prepare myself for that war, I journeyed abroad to learn all I could from the world's greatest masters. I spent part of that time here, learning the vibrating palm strike from Master Kirigi. Lord, I was driven... and maybe a bit blind to the possibility that I'd come to be a disciple of one of the very people I 'd sworn to destroy!
With the exception of Bruce Wayne, who was a logical if erroneous choice to be on the list, each of these men had a part in the process that led to my becoming the Batman. These were the men who trained me.
I shake my head, breathe deeply, try to forget it. You're born, and your history, your time, your place, is a mold into which you're thrown... does it make a difference if a few demons are behind it also? My parents are still just as dead. Gotham is still Gotham. I am still... still whatever I am...
Rest... I'll need more of it than she knows... Now that I have to face a man-- two men eventually-- fueled by the same venom that turned me into a monster... nearly destroyed me. And in my arsenal... sedatives.
No harmony or integration. No speed or grace. My body knows what to do, but it's forgotten how. My back is healed, but the muscles are soft and lazy. My physical memory is shot. I've lost far more than I realized -- basic skills, automatic reflexes. Got to pull my mind away from the end of my goal... stop thinking and exist for the moment, in the here and now. Relax and take each step in its time -- let each move flow from the last and into the next. Stay within myself at all times... expanding the ambition of each move only when and as my skills return. Learn to absorb acceptable and necessary losses -- to achieve every available gain... and to prevail, even poorly... but at least to prevail.
Mother, father...Love is not enough. They're everywhere...and their work is too random. I can only find so many...and I can never stop them all. I've failed you...but in your names...in your memory...I will never stop trying.
Mother...Father...Your lives were sacred, your murders profane. Your fate shaped my destiny...as your end charted my beginning. Your deaths were violent. Your resting place must remain inviolable. No further harm will come to you, I swear. So long as I shall live, you will be safe in death. No one will touch you. Nor will any of the dead be disturbed--not one more grave desecrated. This night, a monster falls.
I'm not going to present you with a fairy-tale image of Gotham. It's a hard luck town. It always has been. It's a place of dark tragedies and bitter ironies. A city of deep shadows and sharp contrasts. A city that touches everyone who lives there. For good and bad. I see Gotham as an anvil. One is broken or tempered on it. So many trials. So much misfortune. So little hope. But some thrive there. Gothamites are a tough breed. They're proud of their town and their talent for living in it. My family has lived there for two centuries. It was there that they built the financial giant that is a leading player in a half dozen industries. And it was Gothamites who helped build it. By their sweat and their labor and sometimes their lives they made Gotham a world competitor. Against all the odds. Maybe Gotham is inspiring in its own way. Inspiration spurred by fear. Or something even darker. But despite their troubles and their setbacks, Gothamites keep going. And there's something noble about that. It's an admirable trait, I think. Every city has its own personality. I like to think that dogged determination is Gotham's. It's a town that's never had its hand out. That's never played the victim. It's a town that's used to standing alone. It bears being maligned and forgotten. It helps itself. Even when the burdens become too great. Even when it should be screaming for rescue. But the people of Gotham know that justice can be an illusion. And rescue has its price. I guess what I'm trying to say is that Gotham can only help itself from this latest catastrophe -- with your help -- the country's help. I know the people of my hometown will work hard to rebuild. I know they'll repay this nation for any sacrifice it has to make. There's simply more to be gained by helping us than abandoning us. And I'm betting my entire fortune on it. Without a single doubt or regret.
I take my time, because I can... because they have no idea what they've walked into. They think Bruce Wayne should be on his knees... begging for mercy. On his knees in an alley... on his knees on his parents' blood... always weak. But right now, for these short sharp moments in this dark cell... there is no Bruce Wayne.
If Clark wanted to, he could use his superspeed and squish me into the cement. But I know how he thinks. Even more than the Kryptonite, he's got one big weakness. Deep down, Clark's essentially a good person... and deep down, I'm not.
And as the sun, that had been too afraid to show its face in this city, started to turn the black into grey, I smiled. Not out of happiness. But because I knew... that one day, I wouldn't have to do this anymore. One day, I could stop fighting. Because one day... I would win. One day, there will be no pain, no loss, no crime. Because of me, because I fight. For you. One day, I will win.
I've always had answers. The facts. For every one of them we've lost, whether they thought it was about heaven, or god, or even magic_ magic, mysticism_ is just another realm's science. I know that, but... now...
I've gone through times doubting the need for a -- sidekick. Now I see. The brightness of him. I need to see that light more. I need hope. I fear for Tim. Harvey. Selina. Dick. Alfred. And my city -- filled to capacity with every conceivable variety of maniac.
We're a team. Wayne Manor should be your home. Dick was my ward. Legally, it gave him security. I think you should have that too. However... the laws have changed. can't adopt you as my ward. For you to have the security I feel you deserve... I'd have to adopt you as my son. I don't know how you feel about that, Tim. I do know that I could never replace your real father, but I'd try to --
In my attempts to see clearly in the deepest dark, in my efforts to go to the still eye in the storm of madness, did I open up myself to some pure source of evil? Did I finally reach the limits of reason? And find the Devil waiting? And was that fear in his eyes?
Attention Gotham City police. This is the Batman, and I've just taken over your airwaves. Some of you have seen me, some of you have even worked with me before. All of you know I'm good to my word. Now I'm asking you to take me at that word, and follow my orders.
John Doe is is really Chris Ward. Son of Adam Ward, a scientist for Lexcorp. He reported Chris and his brother--Nicholas--as runaways six months ago. Chris was a good kid. Gymnast. Olympic material, until there was a question of drug use. In disgrace he took off with his brother--but we all know, appearances can be deceiving.
I'm like a babe in the giant's hands... Helpless. His hands tighten around my throat. He takes his time finishing me, wanting to savor my end. There is ceremony in this death. The monster dispatches me with reverence. He's freeing me from this vale of tears. Sending me over to the other side. Dispatching me to the realm of... Anti-life.
You should know, whatever created you, whatever Yatz shot you up with contained not only the Doctor's nano-technology, the smart skin, but also elements of the Joker's so-called “venom”. I've seen men driven insane from exposure to it… Sometimes they come back. Sometimes they don't.
There's law -- and there's justice. What have you gained by all this? You've put yourself in your own prison. And I'll always be around to make sure you stay there. That's the promise I made -- and that's the promise I'll keep. For the rest of our lives.
One of the great mysteries of the criminal brain-- is why creeps like you-- don't take scenes like this into consideration-- before you set out on your dirty work! Then again, I guess it keeps me employed!
I had a sickening and frustrating night. Time and again I think I've seen all the evil there is to see-- and time and again, people prove me wrong! What is it about us, Alfred? What makes us such an easy prey for violence and depravity?
The doubt is still there. Even if it were an illusion, there is the uncertainty. Is it possible that I never brought their killer to justice? And in the end does that matter? Does that make a difference in what I do? No. It does not.
What makes you think you can bring me down this time, Firefly? You're the kind of psycho that makes me sick. You think you're the master that fire serves. But you're just a moron transfixed by what you see in the flames. It's you who serves the fire, Lynns.
I vowed to protect the innocent. I promised that no one would suffer if I could do anything to stop it. I've lived this years to be a guardian to the entire city. But there's little I can do against disease and natural disasters. A lost cause can become a fool's errand. I'm still only human. I did what was humanly possible. I hope you don't think I've failed in my promise. And I renew that promise now. Mother...Father...As long as there's breath in my body I am an instrument of justice. Justice for you. Justice for all. I only hope you can forgive me my failures. Because I'm not sure I can forgive myself.
Youmay not have anything to do with it. It's possible I'm on a wild-goose chase. But if I'm right, and it comes back to you, I don't care who you are or who you serve... I'll burn this whole place to the ground.
Debbie Farrow will never fall in love. She will never have children. She will never fulfill whatever dreams she had. She will never have anything again. Because of you. Doesn't that make you want to die?
What? You'll come up with a better gas? Or you'll pick at the scabs of my psyche and find a deeper fear? Don't you understand I've faced terror a wretch like you could never imagine -- and I overcame. This boy has been through more than you've ever known. He's beyond your illusions too. You have no power. You're the joke you always feared you might be.
You know the sort of people I've gone up against, so you know I don't say this lightly... but the Joker? Riddler? Croc, Scarecrow and the others? He's in their league. Only without the crippling psychoses to cloud his judgment.
People think it's an obsession. A compulsion. As if there were an irresistible impulse to act. It's never been like that. I chose this life. I know what I'm doing. And on any given day, I could stop doing it. Today, however, isn't that day. And tomorrow won't be either.
Everyone looks up to you. They listen to you. If you tell them to fight, they'll fight. But they need to be inspired. And let's face it, "Superman"... the last time you really inspired anyone -- was when you were dead.
Why? Because some Greek psychic, high on inhalants told you we might all die? The JLA has taken on Darkseid. And won. But we were united. Doing this on your own just increases the chances that you'll fail.
We'll be ready. Justice is always ready. That's why evil always fails. There's only one kind of good, and it's all evil ever gets to battle. Makes it weak and narrow-minded. There's an endless variety of evil. And good's got a lifetime of tricks up its sleeve. We learn from the best.
I prayed for us all. After seeing what Titus had done to the Man of Steel, I knew that we were in for the fight of our lives. Of course, the others had already met our foe -- on the outskirts of Jerusalem...Yes, I prayed...It focuses the mind.
We die every day. A thousand times an hour. Anyone who does this work sees it. Death. Their own... their partner's... their loved ones. We go to work anyway. Death is powerless against you if you leave a legacy of good behind. Death is powerless against you if you do your job. My father saved the lives of over four thousand people, one at a time... with his bare hands and his mind. Death was with him the entire time.
He calls himself "Scarecrow." Psychologist turned psychopath. He preys on the innocent and instill them with fear. When I chose to wear my... costume, it was to prey upon the criminals, and instill them with fear. The irony is not lost on me...
Whatever Penguin might be, he's anything but a buffoon. He plans his crimes with military precision. His thinking is brilliant-- circuitous and multi-leveled. His appearance makes you want to underestimate him, but don't fall into that trap. - His major fault is his massive ego. He thinks he's as physically adept as he is intelligent. If he allowed able-bodied henchmen to commit his crimes rather than trying to do it himself... our job would be far more difficult.
Any hero who operates in public has the F.B.I., the C.I.A., Homeland Security and Metahuman Affairs looking over his shoulder. Groups like the J.L.A., the Justice Society, and even the Teen Titans are under the microscope. This limits their options. Only criminals operate without constraints anymore, so we're going to cultivate the Outsiders' reputation as a team of outlaws.
I need a team people expect the worst from-- a team that bad guys see as kindred spirits. All those "screw-ups" you refer to-- the coup in Africa, the Nuke in Russia, the Prison Riot-- they got you branded as terrorists. As much as you hate it, that's exactly why the Outsiders will accomplish things no so-called heroes can. And if you refuse to be a part of that, well... then you're everything I always hoped you would be. Go back to the good fight, Dick. Leave the bad fight to us.
The world is going down the tubes, and her most beloved heroes are the worst-positioned people to do anything about it. Like it or not, you're elected to save the day -- and you're going to be hated for it.
Plastic Man survived for 3000 years as little more than crumbs scattered around the Atlantic. If that doesn't give you an idea of the level of power he hides behind that doofy smile of his, then you're brain dead.
You wouldn't know a decent impulse if it punched you square in the jaw! I think it's time we ended your little coup—! I didn't think there'd be anybody worse for this country than Harjavti—but lady—you're the bottom of the barrel!
You remember the conditions of our agreement. You disobeyed a direct order in the field. No excuses. That was also part of our deal. You're fired. Take the rest of the afternoon to gather your things and retrieve your personal files out of the computer. Take everything now, because you won't be back. The codes will be changed as soon as you leave. I gave you a fair shot. You didn't measure up, but there's no shame in that. And Stephanie? Let this be the end to all of it. From now on, I don't expect to see Spoiler out there either.
You don't know how I question myself and everything I've become. The right of it. The wrong of it. Not allowing myself any reward for the good. Damning myself for every mistake. Thinking of everyone who's sacrificed themselves in my war. Everyone close to me. Everyone who cared.
I don't know what sort of "elder" you've mistaken me for, but "bloodlines" mean nothing to me. On my territory, the innocent need never beg for mercy...and the guilty quickly learn not to waste their breath.
Supergirl, you're one of the most powerful creatures on the planet. If someone intelligent were to come after you, they wouldn't attack you directly. They'd try to trick you. Surprise you. Remember Supergirl... only your body's invulnerable.
No, Clark, you're missing the point of the question. Why do I keep that giant penny? Or old costumes, models of the Batmobile? Orphans are collectors, Clark. Losing so much... makes it that much harder to give things up.
What would I say...?... That I wanted her? That I didn't care if she was married? That here we are trapped in Darkseid's hell in space--death and torture all around us--and yet I would be nowhere else. Because of her. Because of Bekka. My beautiful, beautiful Bekka. God help me.
It is a remarkable dichotomy. In many ways, Clark is the most human of us all. Then... he shoots fire from the skies and it is difficult not to think of him as a god. And how fortunate we all are that it does not occur to him.
Death is powerless against you if you leave a legacy of good behind. Death is powerless against you if you do your job. My father saved the lives of over four thousand people, one at a time... with his bare hands and his mind. Death was with him the entire time.
Let you in on a little secret, Superman. I can't fly. Bullets don't bounce off my chest. I can't bend steel in my bare hands. But criminals fear me. I'm sorry normal citizens do too, but I'd rather have that than word on the street what a nice guy I am. That sort of talk could get me killed.
I didn't pull the trigger on Robin and Batgirl, but I might as well have. I trained them. I let them wear the costumes that made them targets. It doesn't matter that the Joker shot Barbara Gordon, not Batgirl. It was only a matter of time.