[CENTER][IMG]https://i.imgur.com/0xjS780.png[/IMG][/CENTER]

[b]Gotham City, The Narrows
West District
2:15 AM[/b]

[IMG]https://i.imgur.com/ZStet0f.png[/IMG]

[color=f7941d]"KEEP YOUR GUNS TRAINED ON HIM BUT DO NOT ENGAGE! NOBODY FIRES WITHOUT MY ORDER, YOU UNDERSTAND?!"[/color]

I didn't have the luxury of time to think this through. The smoke and fire of the blast builds around me as at least two dozen members of GCPD SWAT encircle the area. There's a police helicopter with a spotlight trained right on my every move, flying it's way into view from across the Pier. Captain James Gordon of Gotham's Precinct 27 and his partner have loaded weapons trained on my head and chest, respectively. They're buying into my bluff, it seems, because no one's went in for the arrest yet. But it's only a matter of time before they realize that the only reason I blew up the factory was to distract them from something else - specifically, to buy Jessica Jones enough time to escape the area unseen, with the girl under her protection. The success of their escape relies entirely on the fact that I have to keep this entire Precinct in the thralls of misdirection. And in order to do that, I'm going to have to put up one hell of a fight. 

Injured, outnumbered, and at a disadvantage. Odds that I'm far from unfamiliar with, but odds that don't tend to favor the bold all the same. And if there's one thing I've been accused of throughout my life, it's boldness. As it stands, I have no choice. Gotham's Police Department is [i]infested[/i] with rats that take on the form of corrupt thugs and guns for hire looking to earn favor and a paycheck from Salvatore Maroni. I put a bullet in the mobster's knee just a few days ago, and I can already tell that some here want to dish out a bit of payback. I can't say this isn't their chance, but I'm definitely not giving it to them if I can help it. 

I've avoided direct conflict with the GCPD in the past because I wanted to take the time to root out the bad from the good. Figure out which cops were on the take, and which were being kept silent through Maroni's enforcers. They're as much apart of the disease that ravages Gotham as the man who holds their leash, but as much as I despise the entire lot of them, I'd be remiss to not at least acknowledge the possibility that there are some genuinely good men and women that I'm going to have to fight my way through. 

[color=f7941d]"You're under arrest! Put down your weapons and surrender! Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head!"[/color]

Might aswell not waste any time in doing it.

[b][color=DimGray]"No."[/color][/b]

The first three are blinded whenever I throw my cape up through the flames, sending a small wave of fire hurtling their way. That distraction is nessescary for what I do next, because at the same time, I've produced several gas pellets that go flying directly for Gordon and his partner. Both men double over and immediately begin choking, giving me at least some leeway to move. I choose my next target with precision and remove a batarang from my belt, vaulting over his back as he prepares to fire his gun and tossing the weapon at another member of SWAT just as they prepare to do the same. The first misses his shot, the other has their gun knocked clean away. Taking the officer I just somersaulted over by the back of the collar of his vest into both hands, I toss his body into the air and slam him with my shoulder, directing him towards a group of five that advance on me. 

Keep calm, Bruce. Focus on keeping yourself alive and distanced from the rest. Give yourself plenty of breathing room. You were trained to fight even larger crowds than this, and a concussion mixed with a few broken ribs isn't going to stop you. They want you to go down for trying to do the right thing. They want you to [i]stop[/i] trying to help the disenfranchised of this city, just to keep the very long line of suffering and favoritism to men who kill, steal, rape, and intimidate their way to power. You're a soldier whose mission is to prevent that from ever happening again. And you know damn well why it can't. Three individuals, two shots, one survivor. Let that rattle through your brain as you keep going. Let it give you strength. Let it remind you of who you are. 

[color=0072bc]"I've got the shot! I've got the shot! Move outta the way, dammit!"[/color]

The cocky SWAT leader steps forward in a measured pace with an automatic rifle as I begin to tear into his men. One gets an elbow bashed into the faceplace of their helmet, shattering it and giving me enough time to dodge the next one as he tries to subdue me with the hilt of his shotgun. He doesn't want to fire because he'll hit his partner, it's too close range. Their leader doesn't share the same concern, as I hear the gun click just seconds before it's too late. Grabbing one of my attackers and strong-arming him with one hand, I take the other and perform a hard roundhouse kick that sends him flying out of the way. Maneuvering so that the one in my grip is facing forward, blocking the SWAT leader's shot, I knee him in the back to send him to the ground and between us even further. 

[I][B]BLAM![/B][/I]

As he fires off one round, the buckshot grazes the side of the kevlar helmet protecting the officer and only manages to rip through parts of my cape as I dive forward. Throwing out another kick outwards to perform a sweep, I de-stabilize the man's footing and grab his weapon, using it to strike him across the face. I then bash him in the knee for good measure, causing him to cry out in pain as he crumples to the ground. 

[color=DimGray][b]"Hrgh!"[/b][/color]

A strike to the back of my head. Were it not for the cowl's protective lining, I'd have very likely dropped. Nevertheless, I find myself stumbling forward without any room to perform a counter attack. Allowing myself to fall, I push myself backwards and lean up into a momentum-based propulsion attack so that both of my boots end up smashing hard into the woman's stomach before she can take her shot. She goes flying into the side of one of the nearby vans, prompting another few of her fellow officers to try and swarm me before I can get back to my feet. 

Trying to fight off the daze that threatens to come over me as the head trauma tries to worsen the concussion, I nevertheless pull out The Utility Gun with it's setting pre-switched to it's taser mode. Three lines connected to darts spring out of the barrel, jutting themselves into three officers. I pull the trigger and watch as they're each forced to the ground after their bodies are rendered numb and spastic by a combined 800 volts. The others left standing begin to file next to eachother in formation for a group shooting. At this point, they're not so much willing to arrest me as [i]execute[/i] me. I immediately leap to my feet and pop off the spring-loaded blades of my gauntlets, slicing into their hands and forcing them to drop their weapons. 

[color=a187be]"Batman! Stand down! I repeat, stand down!"[/color]

One of Gordon's trusted officers, I believe her name is Montoya, rushes me with a loaded pistol. She shows considerably more restraint than her subordinates, not wanting to fire but making it clear that she will if she has to. 

[color=a187be]"We're not here to kill you, we just have to bring you in! Why are you provoking them?!"[/color]

[color=DimGray][b]"Because, Sergeant..."[/b][/color]

Using her hesitation against her, I vault forward and leap up, sending a hard jab into her wrist. Her loaded hand goes flying in the opposite direction, giving me room to send a hard right hook across her face. She falls on her back and doesn't hesitate any longer, pointing the gun and pulling the trigger. But my momentary attack gave me just the room I needed to avoid it, instead hearing the grunt of another officer as Montoya's shot hits them squarely in the vest. Were they not protected, I'd have taken the bullet myself. Just because we're at odds doesn't mean that I'm a complete monster. I don't believe in collateral damage, so I'm not going to them kill eachother, even by accident. 

[color=DimGray][b]"They provoked [i]me[/i] a long time ago."[/b][/color]

Throwing my leg backwards, I kick Montoya in the face hard enough to send her back to the ground, knocked completely unconscious. ACE is feeding me the vitals of every opponent I come up against, and according to the readout from my cowl, her threat status just went from red to yellow. Non-hostile. It's enough to make me breathe a sigh of relief, before another shot grazes my shoulder and knocks me back. I hit a wooden fence and shatter it, landing on the front lawn of some unwitting civilian who's likely hiding inside. I'd say it's a smart tactic, at this point. The area's getting too hot for anyone to go running. 

[color=f7941d]"You..."[/color]

I hear the coughing of the one who shot me. 

Gordon. 

[color=f7941d]"Have the right... to remain... silent."[/color]

Narrowing my eyes, I toss out a batarang. He fires again, but not soon enough keep the batarang from piercing his hand and forcing him to drop his weapon aswell. The bullet pierces the ground beside me, just inches from my head. Angered, he rips the batarang out of his hand and ignores the pain of his bloodied palm, thrusting himself forward as I stand up to send a hard left hook across the exposed area of my chin. The impact is enough to knock me back down, though far from enough to knock me out. Gordon holds back a smile, standing over me with raised fists. I already know from records that he's recieved military training, so it wouldn't befit me to underestimate him. 

[color=f7941d]"Been waiting six months to do that."[/color]

Rather than attempt another batarang, I push myself back up and immediately rush Gordon with a tackle that sends both of us through the other portion of the wooden fence. He hits the pavement, hard, and I strike him in the face with a closed fist. To be perfectly honest, Gordon is one of the few police in Gotham whose loyalties I have yet to understand. From the outside looking in, he seems to oppose the corruption that Maroni and the Five Families represent. His promotion to Captain of Precinct 27 was politically motivated, with few buying Commissioner Loeb's line that he felt Gordon was a hero. At the same time, this man has relentlessly led the hunt for me since I first struck out against the mob as The Batman. He wants me out of comission just as much as anyone else, if not more. 

[color=DimGray][b]"Hope it was worth it."[/b][/color]

I punch him again, this time in a methodical tilt, so that the damage isn't too serious. He's more winded than hurt, but isn't rendered out of action, either. Grabbing me by the throat, he uses his leg to toss me over him and send me crashing into the passenger side window of a parked car. Before I know what's hit me, he grabs me by the back of the head and slams my face against the hood. Forcing one of my arms against my back, he attempts the standard arrest. I grit my teeth, enraged. He actually [i]is[/i] alot faster and much stronger than I initially gave him credit for, but he's not getting the satisfaction that he so desperately wants. Not tonight, and not while I'm still breathing. 

[color=f7941d]"Stop this! You're going down for this insanity sooner or later, goddamn you!"[/color]

[b][color=DimGray]"Maybe you're right."[/color][/b]

Ripping myself from his grip, I push myself off of the car and slam into him with the reinforced kevlar plate attached to the back of my head. Then, with a one hundred and eight degree spin, I go in for a more direct punch to Gordon's face and give it every ounce of strength that I have. The sickening crunch of his nose can be heard as blood flies from his nostrils. 

[color=DimGray][b]"But I'm not stopping now. Not for [i]you.[/i]"[/b][/color]

He's sent falling back to the ground, his glasses falling off of his head as he clutches his face. I drive a hard stomp into his forehead and knock him unconscious aswell, through bluntly forcing his skull against the concrete. ACE tells me that he's fine, but it's enough to give me pause. Any harder than that and I would've given him alot worse than a concussion. Got to keep that in mind. I'm losing control of the punishment I dish out. And if I don't reel it in soon, things are only going to get alot more violent. The shine of a flashlight interrupts my field of vision, prompting me to rely on instinct for the next attack.

[color=f7976a]"Over here! Charlie, clear the line of fire! He's taken out the Captain! I repeat, he's---"[/color]

[IMG]https://i.imgur.com/GGwBZsM.png[/IMG]

What happens over the next few moments is a bit of a blur. I can't consciously recollect it or even stop myself from attacking. But by the time I've regained clarity of my senses, I'm in the middle of a fist fight between three plainclothes officers, two SWAT, and Gordon's Lieutenant, all of whom are trying desperately to wrestle me to the ground. I remain firm in my stance, pushing back against them, throwing out haymakers, uppercuts, and jabs to the throat wherever I can. Some of them fall back or fall down. Others fight even harder. A few nail me across the face, some get me in the chest. 

The concussion's taking it's toll. Only possible explanation for why I'm losing track of things. My mind reels as I act completely on instinct, going in to break a few arms and kick the legs out from other officers in a sea of uniformed bodies that threatens to overwhelm me. And all that I can do is hope that Jones made it to Zoe Lawton and got her out of here in time. I'd check to make sure, but there's no possible way to divide my attention from the police. The minute I do, I'm done. So I keep fighting. A primal yell even erupts from the pit of my chest, at one point. 

And in the distance, I see...

My mother and father. Their faces replacing that of the officers looking to take me down. 

Normally I'd recoil in horror. Double back and try to get myself into a clearer headspace. Try and isolate this grotesque hallucination brought about by the years of trauma that I've lived with. But right now, I'm in the middle of a vicious battle that could mean my freedom or even my life. These men have tried to kill me, and they represent [i]everything[/i] wrong with this city. The truth is, for the first time since I was eight years old...  

I don't give a [i]damn[/i] about what my parents would've thought of this. 

Finally breaking through the crowd of officers that now line the streets around me, each falling after another increasingly vicious blow, with either a broken bone or fractured jawline to show for it, I see the oncoming officers as they raise their weapons to me. The perverse nature of each of them looking as though they're a collection of my mother and father, each holding a gun out to shoot me down, is far from lost on me. It only fuels my rage even further as the helicopter's spotlight hits me. 

[color=DimGray][b]"COME ON! IS THAT ALL YOU'VE GOT?!"[/b][/color]

I'm prepared to take their gunfire. The armor should hold for at least a few rounds, as long as I keep my face protected. But by the time they go to pull the triggers, a very unexpected sound begins to verbreate throughout the area. The sound of the police barricades being smashed and various officers fleeing in terror. 

In their confusion, the officers ahead fail to notice as a foreign light source closes in on them from the rear, with a familiar engine revving to life. An unmanned vehicle, which power slides and slams into some of them. My eyes go wide as I immediately recognize it.

It's... The Batcycle?

I stare ahead, confused as my own vehicle makes it's way to me and stops a mere few inches from where I stand. On it's own, through some type of automatic control. This shouldn't be possible.

[color=DimGray][b]"Ace?"[/b][/color], I ask aloud. [color=DimGray][b]"I didn't authorize that."[/b][/color]

To my surprise, The Batcycle then [i]responds[/i] to me. 

And not in any way that Lucius Fox would have programmed.

[b][color=39b54a]"I'm sorry, I... don't know who Ace is. But you're in trouble and very clearly need the help. I figured [i]this[/i] would be a better sell to you than offering a ride in a hacked Lexus, or something."[/color][/b]

The voice is distorted, electronically manipulated to hide the individual's identity. I only start to question it as I climb atop the Batcycle and attempt to take control of it myself, which to my relief, is something that's relinquished back to me willingly the second that I've assumed position. Though, I notice a curious symbol has appeared on the dashboard screen in the place of my usual HUD.

Someone's hacked into private my server. Even more impossibly, or perhaps even [i]impressively[/i], they've initiated an auto-pilot function within The Batcycle that I wasn't even aware existed. Both facts of which give me an immediate and considerable cause for concern. My server and the connections that keep The Batcycle linked to the Waynetech satellites are supposed to be invulnerable to cyber-attacks and outside intervention. It's how they were encypted from the start.

Who in the hell could be capable of bypassing the system?

[color=DimGray][b]"Whoever you are..."[/b][/color]

[color=39b54a][b]"We can exhange pleasantries another time. Let's just say that I'm something of a fan. [u]And[/u] I'm one of the few to recognize that Gotham needs you."[/b][/color]

[IMG]https://i.imgur.com/lYKnogS.jpg[/IMG]

[color=39b54a][b]"You can call me Oracle. Now for the love of God, [i]drive[/i]."[/b][/color]