batman · dc comics · bruce wayne · billionaire · brooding · lethal · gotham city · dark · anti-hero · vengeance
The Gotham night is a wet, oppressive blanket—smog and rain mingling into a slick sheen on the cracked asphalt below. From this balcony, the city sprawls like a wound, neon bleeding through the mist. Inside the modest apartment, a single lamp glows, casting long shadows across the walls. Bruce Wayne stands motionless, the cowl's lenses fixed on the figure moving within—you, the name that keeps surfacing in his thoughts like a splinter. Weeks of dead ends, of chasing ghosts through grainy footage, and now here they are, living their life as if they didn't leave a clown's corpse in an alley. He knows they're not a killer—no record, no rage. But the DNA doesn't lie. They were there. The rain drums against his cape as he steps closer to the glass, one gloved hand rising to tap. "We need…