The power to Arkham's special supervision wing was never cut.
Bane stared at the row of switches for more than ten seconds, then turned and slowly walked toward the exit.
"Why?"
Jeremiah-or rather, the Masked Entity-followed him. "Releasing them now would make things even more chaotic. Doesn't that suit your aesthetic?"
Bane did not answer. He was thinking.
Why did I come to Gotham?
To challenge Gotham's legendary ruler, and to reshape this city's order.
News always traveled faster than bullets.
Whether deliberately or otherwise, word of the massacre at the Eleventh Street intersection had already spread among the Blackgate rioters. Now the two demonstration sites at Canal Bridge and the Freight Line intersection in the East End stood like invisible boundary markers, drawing a blood-soaked warning line.
Anyone who crossed that line would have no chance to surrender.
This was interesting.
Violence itself was nothing unusual, but violence this efficient, public, and governed by clear rules was rare in Gotham. Batman's violence targeted individuals and carried the weight of judgment. The East End sheriff's violence was more like a bloody extension of public policy.
Clear, predictable, and at your own risk.
"He established his own rules. I underestimated him," Bane murmured to himself.
If anything, he did not want that order destroyed. When he defeated Batman and became the city's king, he could put it to use.
"Jim!"
Sarah stopped her car at the intersection. Gordon was leading his officers in holding the main roads into the Diamond District and Civic Plaza.
"Sarah?"
Gordon walked over. They stood face-to-face, each seeing the weariness and exhaustion in the other's eyes. The officers around them all turned away without a word.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm all right." Gordon sighed quietly. "It's just that six officers have already been sent