"Brainiac, give up your unrealistic delusions. No one has ever truly controlled Gotham—not the Godfather, not Batman, not a super AI, and not the mastermind behind the scenes."
Only Jonathan's eyes shone startlingly bright in his pale, gaunt face. What flickered in them was not pure madness, but even profound wisdom and philosophy. Brainiac had often seen this in the eyes of Gotham's lunatics, as though they were not psychiatric patients, but prophets who had truly glimpsed the essence of the world.
There was only a thin line between genius and madness, but Gotham had never distinguished between the two. Anyone who tried to occupy this place and take away that uniquely special quality from them was eventually swept away by the tide of madness, their bones sinking into the Abyss or vanishing into thin air without a trace.
Brainiac could not help feeling fortunate that, as part of his postwar recovery strategy, he had not taken any excessive actions against this Dark City. Moreover, because he had shown no favoritism and treated lunatics and ordinary people alike, he had never truly enraged them.
On the contrary, he could even earn favorable reviews from the vast majority of lunatics. Even tireless antisocial figures like Jonathan still needed clothes and food. Brainiac's equal care for everyone meant these people no longer had to worry about the trivialities of daily life and could instead focus more intently on the fields they loved and excelled in. In a sense, he was also the Savior and Shepherd of the lunatics.
As the calmest and most rational Electronic Life, Brainiac had not directly clashed with humanity's most fervent and soaring madness, but their relationship had never truly been equal.
Before the eternal night descended, it was the lunatics who needed Brainiac more. Brainiac had never