"Commissioner," Thea called out, "tell your men to wait for my signal.
Once the enemy's weapons are down, we'll rush in and finish them off first."
The field was far too wide for her bow to reach that far,
so she had to rely on Catwoman — the best parkour runner in Gotham —
to sneak behind enemy lines and plant her magnetic arrow.
" Thea, thermal imaging shows enhanced soldiers are almost out,"
Felicity reported anxiously from the monitor station.
"Robin, get the wavelength emitter ready," Thea ordered,
firing a volley of arrows to force back the Talons and cover Robin and Barbara
as they retreated toward the main group.
Catwoman sprinted and vaulted across walls and rooftops,
moving through the maze of wreckage with feline precision.
After several twists and turns, she finally reached the rear of the enemy line.
With the grace of a knife thrower, she hurled the magnetic arrow down —
embedding it perfectly in the ground behind them.
"All set," she murmured into the comms.
"Good. Now find somewhere with a thick wall and stay put."
Thea glanced at the timer, then pressed the switch on her bow.
A low hum began to rise — "Vmmm—" — followed by several sharp whooshes.
A piercing sound wave rolled across the battlefield,
and one by one, Arkham's convicts stumbled and clutched their heads,
too dazed to realize their weapons had vanished from their hands.
"Attack!"
Commissioner Gordon didn't even hesitate —
if he'd had a bugle and a flag, he'd have led the charge like it was Normandy.
Pistol in hand, the old man charged first.
Seeing their commander throw himself forward,
and with the enemy now unarmed, the cops and volunteers behind him
roared like men possessed and surged ahead.
The kill ratio shifted instantly.
Bare-handed thugs stood no chance against armed officers —
it was like the native tribes facing the first colonists,
rage burning in their eyes but no power to resist.
Within moments, they were falling one after another.
Gordon felt a twist of pity, but he knew there was no time for hesitation.
Reinforcements were coming, and he'd fought enough battles to know:
mercy could wait — survival couldn't.
No one mentioned Miranda rights or arrest procedures.
In the blood-red chaos, they weren't cops anymore — they were soldiers.
Later generations would call this day "The Gotham Massacre."
Countless human-rights advocates would sit in air-conditioned offices,
condemning the Gotham Police Department for brutality.
But that was all history.
Right now, no one realized they were living through a future headline.
The cops were relatively restrained —
but the ex-soldiers and "enthusiastic civilians"?
They were ecstatic.
Their pent-up rage exploded in full,
and they tore through Arkham's forces with relentless fire.
In under a minute, the blackened earth of Arkham Square ran red with blood.
Scarecrow's elites, Penguin's loyal followers —
they dropped like wheat before the scythe.
Batman watched the carnage in grim silence.
It sickened him — but he couldn't stop it.
This was war.
Either the good die, or the evil do.
There was no way to knock everyone out and tie them up neatly.
Thea and Gordon's call wasn't wrong — just ugly.
Thea herself felt no guilt.
These were villains; imprisoning them didn't stop the rot.
She noticed the veterans beginning to lose control
and leaned toward Lyla, speaking quietly:
"The enhanced soldiers are breaking out from the west.
Lead those guys over there — hold the first wave."
They both knew who "those guys" meant.
Meanwhile, the mastermind behind Arkham's chaos began to panic.
Watching his forces being slaughtered,
he detonated the western wall —
blasting a hole wide enough for nearly two hundred enhanced soldiers
to storm out all at once.
And the ones standing in their way?
The blood-drunken veterans —
lured there by Lyla's disguised operatives.
Thea didn't give the signal to fire the sonic weapon immediately.
She simply watched.
Let the chaos burn off the unpredictable elements.
Let the enhanced ones all step into the trap first.
Only when the last of them emerged —
and the veterans were being overwhelmed —
did she glance at Robin and nod.
The next moment, a deep vibration rippled across the battlefield.
Unlike Thea's improvised magnetic arrow,
this was a true infrasonic weapon —
Bruce Wayne's own design.
Before anyone could notice what was happening,
over two hundred enhanced soldiers began to stagger,
their movements faltering as their nervous systems crashed.
"Looks effective," Thea said coolly.
"Commissioner — keep firing."
Gordon hesitated. "Isn't there any way to save them?"
Thea shook her head.
"Their genes have been rewritten, Commissioner.
They're not citizens anymore."
History would later dub him "Butcher Gordon."
But right now, he just exhaled and muttered,
"Three hundred, five hundred — what's the difference now?"
He raised his hand.
The firing resumed.
The enhanced troops were terrifyingly tough —
many took four or five bullets before finally collapsing.
But as their numbers fell,
the remaining few faced concentrated gunfire from all sides.
Blood pooled in the cracks of the pavement,
and the continuing low-frequency pulse of the sonic weapon
only hastened their deaths.
Then—
"BOOM!"
A thunderous explosion tore through the eastern flank.
Thea whipped her head around —
her heart sinking as she saw it.
The ice was cracking.
Fracture lines spiderwebbed across the frozen mound,
and a massive arm — thick as a tree trunk —
burst free from within.
Bane.
That sound had been his punch —
smashing through his own frozen cage.
It was the first time Thea had ever seen anyone literally punch their way out of ice.
Violent, but undeniably impressive.
"Thea!" Batman's voice cut sharply through the comms.
"Get clear — he's lost control!"
No kidding.
To shatter that kind of ice from the inside —
the sheer power was insane.
Bane's eyes glowed blood-red.
With a roar, he tore the rest of the ice apart,
muscles bulging like mountains,
green venom flooding through his veins.
The tanks on his back were already one-third drained,
and more toxin was still pumping into his system.
Oh great, Thea thought grimly. I've made him go berserk.
Anyone who got close now was a dead man.
The helicopter squad that had been on standby
was forced into the fight early.
"Lyla," Thea snapped, "use the chopper's cannons on him.
Try to draw him away from the crowd.
If that fails — use the missiles."
She even sliced a hand downward to emphasize "blow him up."
What about Batman's "fated duel" with Bane?
She wasn't thinking about that.
Seeing Bane like this, even Bruce wouldn't stand a chance.
Better she solve his problem early.
The gunship roared onto the scene,
rising from its hidden position and diving low.
A barrage of rounds rained down on the green-tinged monster below.
Bane barely flinched.
Venom-fueled and unstoppable, he ripped chunks of debris from the ground
and hurled them into the air with monstrous force.
The helicopter pilot saw he'd taken the bait
and immediately switched tactics —
shoot, fly, shoot, retreat —
luring Bane farther and farther from the main force.