Gotham.
One of the Court of Owls' bases received an uninvited guest.
It was a plaza as vast as an ancient Roman Colosseum, and a slave auction seemed to be underway. It was hard to imagine that, in the civilized world, such a brazen venue for human trafficking still existed.
The place was packed with people, cups clinking amid the uproar. Men and women wearing white owl masks screamed at the tops of their lungs and howled hysterically. Here, they shed the disguises of civilized society and wantonly vented the darkness and naked desires in their hearts.
And this was when Bane stormed in.
As he hurled a Talon with all four limbs twisted into the center of the plaza, the debauched banquet was interrupted. The masked, well-dressed upper-class guests gradually fell silent.
"Wow—looks like our banquet has a new guest! Let him in! Talons!"
Bane lowered his head and slowly brushed past several Talons holding sharp blades.
Their blades did not retreat in the slightest as Bane walked by. They seemed intent on leaving a long bloody gash in him, giving the man before them a little demonstration of authority.
But they failed.
The sharp blades sliced through Bane's clothes without leaving even a white mark on his body, which seemed to have been cast from refined steel. The Talons felt as though they had slashed at an elastic rubber tire.
Bane stepped through the entrance to the arena, like a gladiator entering an ancient Roman amphitheater. Under everyone's gaze, he slowly walked to the center of the arena.
A high-ranking Court member seated at the highest point gestured to the Talons, and the living merchandise being auctioned was removed.
The women cried and shouted at Bane, but all they received were whips and beatings. None of it stirred