They came in through the harbor- an immense vessel, almost the size of a military battleship, adorned with religious symbols across the hull- crosses and intricate patterns. The ship, the [i]SS Salvation[/i], was manned by a small army of people clothed in chainmail armor and metallic suits. Sitting on his immaculate throne- only the best for this Messianic cleanser of evil- in the captain's quarters, flanked by three of his most trusted advisors, The Bishop waited anxiously to arrive at the docks. Through his divine will the efforts of his Holy Army remained absolutely unseen, bending the light around the vessel and pulling the wool over the eyes of the sinful sheep of Gotham. The Bishop slowly rose from his throne, exiting the captain's quarters and looking out upon the grimy, scum-filled city. He sniffed the air tentatively, then growled.

[i]"Depravity,"[/i] commented The Bishop, [i]"Depravity and vice."[/i] He noticed a small yacht off the harbor- with flashing colored lights and people on deck: young people with alcohol and a variety of drugs. Half-naked women and men alike danced and writhed for the pleasure of the onlookers- or that was what he saw, in any case. In actuality, they were simply well-to-do teenagers dancing and, suprisingly enough, not even drinking alcohol or doing any illegal drugs. But The Bishop thought he saw a gathering for debauchery, and he was disgusted by their greed and lust. They, he decided, would be the first to die. He raised his gauntleted hand- his God Hand- and willed a ball of light to emanate from the aether. It struck the yacht and it exploded violently in a mix of light and hellfire, consuming all on board. Many more would fall before he was done, if he had anything to say about it. Obviously the young apprentice who called himself The Visionary had failed in his duty, for sin still existed in this pestilent hole. He would cleanse it. He would cleanse it all. Then they began docking and unloading the supplies under the shroud of a mystic veil.