The pitch-black corridor was like a giant mouth, ready to devour anyone who wandered in, its dark expanse seemingly leading to an endless abyss.
With a click, the light in the room turned on.
The sharp edge of the light harshly cut through the thick darkness, but as the door slowly swung shut, the heavy shadows engulfed the light, showing that they were unstoppable.
A hand covered in black armor released the door handle. The dark figure repositioned its hands on the edge of the sink. When he looked into the mirror, he didn't see his usual stern self. Instead, he was t with a madman with green hair, pale face, grinning ear to ear.
"You think it's the hallucinations brought on by the fear gas, don't you Batman? Don't be so naive, you know all of this has nothing to do with that idiot's tricks. I have never been dead."
But Batman just stood there, quietly listening to his rant.
The Joker in the mirror tapped the glass with a finger, as if he truly existed and could burst back into reality at any mont.
"I will always be in your heart. You, , or anyone else in Arkham Asylum, none of us can change that. Face it, Batman."
With the turn of a faucet knob, Batman ripped off his own mask and washed his face with cold water.
When he lifted his arm, a faint pain stirred in his right one. Looking over, he saw a small cut on his right forearm amidst the blurry splash of water. The abnormal blackening of the wound signaled him that it was a result of infection from the fear gas.
"Scarecrow..."
His low voice echoed in the confined space. As Batman looked back into the mirror, everything he had just seen appeared to be an illusion, leaving only his slightly fatigued face as the truth.
Knock knock knock.
The sound of knocking was like a heart pounding, making Batman quickly turn his head, a twinge of pain shooting through his injured arm due to the sudden movent.
"Are you ok, Batman?"
The voice that ca through was a bit unfamiliar, at least not the youthful ones he was used to hearing. It carried a hint of an indiscernible calm rationality, yet often surprised him with its naivety.
"It's , Peter Parker. I saw the Batmobile parked outside, so I ca to see if you were alright."
"I'm fine."
A response that hardly surprised anyone.
As such, to Batman's surprise, the conversation ended without the slightest bit of probing from the owner of the unfamiliar voice on the other side of the door.
Standing inside, Batman took a deep breath and looked down at the narrow gap under the door. Not noticing the presence of an extra shadow, he knew Peter had truly left.
Peter's timing was unfortunate, thought Batman. The situation had worsened. The Joker hadn't died, and was continually trying to interfere with his mind in so way. The fear gas spread by the Scarecrow was causing even more chaos in Gotham City. His ti was running short.
Ending what could be considered Batman's rest, he walked out the door. As he pushed open the door to the lab, the sudden brightness made him pause his movent, his eyes needing more ti to adjust.
Between the blurs, he could see a silhouette bustling at the experint table. And he knew that aside from Peter, no one else would be here.
But Batman didn't mind this. He took out his communication device, dialed a number and said, "Prophet, repeat to the current situation within the city. I need to know the extent of the chaos."
"It's considerably worse than it was two hours ago when Scarecrow made the broadcast. The police are currently chasing a suspicious military vehicle after it drove through Chinatown in an irregular pattern, but they lost its trail."
"Gordon and I are trying our best to allocate our police force, but we're always short-handed. Batman, you responded to the Bat Light much later than expected, did you encounter any trouble?"
The woman's voice on the other end exuded a rare strength beneath its intellectual tone, which could comfort anyone, even Batman himself.
His thoughts, disrupted by the Joker's reflection in the mirror, ca back into focus. Batman said into the communicator, "I'm fine, Barbara. The last bunch of criminals I dealt with were affected by the fear gas. They gave a minor wound on my arm, but it's not a problem, I was just tending to it."
"He wasn't tending to it." A unknown male voice sounded beside Barbara, causing her to frown slightly in the dim light of the departnt office.
"Is soone else there with you, Batman?"
"Yes, it's , Peter Parker, Batman's new assistant. I just got here recently. But I think we don't have ti for small talk, please give five minutes to tend to Batman's wound. You can take this opportunity to tell us what is happening in the city now."
Peter spoke quickly, depriving both Batman and Prophet Barbara of a chance to interrupt. Barbara paused for a mont to consider his prompt, concluding that it wasn't a bad idea. If she were to tell Batman what to do now, he would certainly rush off to his next mission without tending to his wound.
No one wanted Batman to do that because they all knew that it was going to be a long night. The seemingly insignificant wound could likely worsen due to neglect.
Peter snatched Batman's communicator, ignoring Batman's attempt to maintain a hold of it. Peter's grip was stronger than he had expected.
But Batman did not insist. Peter walked over to the experint table with the communicator and tossed the tiny machine aside. He then lightly tapped on the test tube in his hand.
"You did not lie to , the situation in this city you live in is much worse than New York. I have examined the water quality report you placed in your drawer. Frankly, it's extraordinary that the people here can still walk on their two legs."
"It's not that extraordinary." Batman replied in his signature deadpan humor.
"Alright, the woman called Prophet, I'll stay quiet now. Could you please explain to what exactly is going on here?"
"Mr. Parker, you sound much more mature than your voice suggests. Regardless of which city you hail from, coming here was not a favorable choice."
"As you see, another disaster has happened, possibly even more severe than what you have seen in the newspapers."
Despite the faint static in Barbara's voice, it remained steady and calm, echoing with an inexplicable divinity in the slightly empty lab.
"Gotham Police Departnt's Commissioner Jas Gordon personally attended the Joker's cremation ceremony. This supercriminal, who sparked fear throughout the city, was nonetheless reduced to ashes. But, far from being over."
"Two hours ago, Scarecrow, another supercriminal, detonated his fear gas hidden throughout the city, and intruded the public dia in Gotham, announcing his terrifying revenge on the city."
"The citizens are panicked, the police are at a loss, we are almost clueless, and nobody knows what we will go through this night. There is no question that we need Batman."
"Very well, please continue, ma'am, I am listening."
Peter broke an iodophor cotton swab, holding it between his right fingers and illuminated Batman's wound with the other hand that pressed the button of the shadowless flashlight, carefully and swiftly cleaning the wound edge.
"You can call by my code na, Prophet, it's more important than you think, because the supercriminals in Arkham Asylum could eavesdrop on our communication at any ti."
"Approximately an hour ago, vehicles transporting Gotham citizens left the city. Still, as you should realize, most citizens in this ga-city can't evacuate, the ones who left were more from tourists and the affluent."
"Half an hour ago, I noticed via the Sky-eye system a suspicious military vehicle disappeared after leaving Chinatown, its movent trajectory indicated it was unusual, but Sky-eye did not provide with additional information."
"Now, I need soone to investigate the spot visited by the vehicle, figure out why it was there and where it might have gone now. I already uploaded the final coordinates of the vehicle's appearance to the Bat Computer. Please go and return quickly; be safe."
"Prophet will be offline for the next twenty minutes. Batman, I know this is going to be a long night but try to persist as long as possible. Goodbye."
There ca no sound from the communicator anymore, and at this point, Peter had dealt with the minor wound completely. Batman did not feel any pain throughout.
As he was putting his armguard on again, he glanced at Peter, but Peter was collecting the dical devices. So, he again tightened the armguard, saying: "Next, I will track the suspicious vehicle."
Before Batman could say anything else, Peter turned around and said: "Give two minutes. I have three things to say, it won't delay your mission."
Batman paused for a mont but nodded.
"First of all, I've collected a sample of the special substance on your wound. I need to stay here and analyze the sample, but there aren't enough samples yet. If you can collect more samples in your following actions, I can confidently crack this mysterious substance called fear gas."
Before Batman could open his mouth, Peter interrupted him, saying: "I know it sounds incredible, but I have experience in this matter, and you won't find another person capable of doing this."
Batman remained silent, and Peter then said, "Secondly, I need access to your Bat Computer, but I don't have ti to explain why right now. You just need to say yes or no."
Batman paused again, then slowly nodded. Then, he added, "I will give you basic access and Sky-eye usage rights, but you better not disturb Prophet; she has more important things to do."
And then Peter said, "Finally, I hope that you can keep the military vehicle intact as much as possible. Be it leaving it there or towing it back, I need that vehicle."
Batman furrowed his brow, looking at Peter. Usually, anyone gazed at by him in this way would voluntarily explain the reasons. Still, Peter took a deep breath, and looked at Batman concentratedly and said, "I apologize, but I truly don't have the ti to explain."
"Please believe in , I am more agitated than you right now. I am hoping that everything I have seen and learned can be put to use, they have to."
While Batman saw in Peter's eyes, which were opposite the light, not sincerity as his tone suggested, but a horrifying storm.
When Peter moved his gaze from the departing Batman, his focus returned to the deafening alarm of the spider-sense ringing in his ears.
Then, an unexpected voice resounded in Peter's ears.
"Peter, are you okay? I am Dr. Schiller. I am watching you from the Battleworld right now, also testing our brand new spectator mode, how do you feel?"
Schiller's voice was almost drowned out by the storm in Peter's mind.
Peter slightly looked up, he lightly exhaled a sigh, feeling the surging heat flow in his body triggered by the overworking spider-sense.
The world in his sight was covered with a layer of blood color, as if his brain had levitated from his body, his soul were hanging above his head, making everything clearer.
"I feel great, Doctor."
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