Gotham's nights were forever steeped in asphalt-black darkness. Lead-gray clouds pressed low over the layers of rising black skyscrapers, while drone lights drifting between the towers flickered like the ECG of a dying patient.
The red and blue flashes of neon signs convulsed through the rain like blood vessels spreading across building facades, illuminating Joker graffiti with wide, laughing mouths before merging with the fleeting headlights at alley entrances.
In the night torn apart by piercing sirens, screens on building curtain walls lit up from the Lower City all the way to the Upper City.
The same face appeared on every screen—a horrifying visage so corroded by chemicals that one glance was enough to make hearts pound wildly.
The terrifying freak gave the camera a mad grin, as if telling all of Gotham that the nightmare Dark City had lost long ago had returned.
"Good evening, Gotham. Your old friend is here again, and I have some good news to share with you—do you remember that wonderful Death Gamble?"
"It was quite a creative idea." The figure on the screen pointed at his own head. "And I, Joker, have decided to help those genius artists bring his mad vision to life—tonight!"
"Cheer, for tonight is when the high walls fall; applaud, for tonight is when the flames burn; roar, for tonight is when the waterfall bursts its banks; weep bitterly, for tonight—I will grant everyone true freedom!"
Joker's shrill laughter echoed through every corner of the city. Countless lights that had just come on went dark, yet even more anxious, frightened points of light lit up. The largest and brightest of them, like the moon itself, was the Bat-Lamp shining in the Lower City.
Batman arrived as promised. But the person he found was not James Gordon, but a red-haired