After a full week of rest, the strike force was finally ready to move again.
They'd wanted to storm Arkham much earlier, but considering Talia's warning about a "secret weapon" — and the fact that Thea, one of their strongest assets, had nearly bled herself dry — they'd reluctantly waited seven days.
Could they have gone without her? Maybe.
But everyone agreed that bringing Thea was safer — and really, what were a few extra days compared to the firepower she brought?
During that week, Thea had even dragged a few of them out to the Wayne family's private beach for a photo shoot.
She had told Moira she was in Malibu, after all — might as well take a few pictures to make the lie look convincing.
It was then that she noticed something new: she'd grown taller.
And the scars she'd once had from training — faint marks across her arms and back — had completely vanished.
Her skin was firmer, smoother, luminous even.
Westerners, especially women, tended to have slightly coarser pores — fine from afar, but up close the texture wasn't as soft as that of Asian women.
Thea's skin now was silk-smooth, glowing under the sunlight, so flawless that even the other women couldn't help gasping.
Her looks, once a solid ninety out of a hundred, had jumped to ninety-five.
She'd spoken quietly with Batman about leaving Gotham once this final assault was done.
Whether or not they succeeded, she'd have to return to Star City — her mother's campaign was ramping up, and her own college plans were coming due.
Batman, of course, said nothing to stop her.
She'd already done more than enough — fought beside him for two months, helped deal with Talia — that alone was a massive favor.
Seven days later, at dusk, the army moved.
When Thea first heard that the attack would begin at night, she was a little surprised.
"Still can't show your face in daylight, huh?"
But fine — Batman wanted nighttime? Nighttime it was.
Their command structure was familiar: both Batman and Thea preferred to give orders remotely through their earpieces, while the ever-reliable Commissioner Gordon handled things on the ground.
No one knew what kind of "secret weapon" they were walking into, so Batman had brought everything he could carry.
Felicity's reconnaissance showed that most of Arkham's original inmates had died during the previous massacre.
The Court of Owls had tried to stabilize the situation, but Gotham's crime families refused to play along — turf wars and ambushes broke out every other day.
To avoid chaos in the cramped facility, they agreed to bring only fifty veterans and two hundred police officers for the assault.
Thea nearly choked when she heard that number.
"Two hundred cops against Arkham Asylum? Sure. Why not."
But she kept her sarcasm to herself. It wasn't her operation this time.
Bruce might've been fluent in Mandarin and Cantonese, but his understanding of certain cultural tactics clearly hadn't caught up.
This time, Thea wasn't about to get cocky.
Regardless of whether the battle would be indoors or out, she came fully armed and armored.
Entry was unexpectedly smooth.
The fires Firefly had set during the last retreat still scarred the complex — a full third of the asylum was a charred ruin.
And after weeks of gang warfare, no one had repaired the place.
Still, no one let their guard down.
Batman stayed out of sight, disappearing somewhere above to do his usual "brooding in the shadows" routine.
Thea teamed up with Firefly again for long-range support.
Their relationship was distant but functional; after several missions together, they'd developed a thin sliver of teamwork.
That teamwork didn't last long.
Batman detected a signal — Mr. Freeze.
"Firefly," his voice crackled over the comm, "you're up."
Seconds later, the two pyromaniacs were already trying to burn and freeze each other to death.
Then two Talons dropped out of nowhere, blades flashing — and Batman immediately reassigned Barbara and Robin to deal with them.
Random gunfire echoed through the halls; black-market thugs were taking potshots from every corner.
Their formation thinned with every skirmish.
By the time they reached the inner corridors, Gordon's escort had shrunk to barely fifty people.
Gunfire and explosions rolled through Arkham like thunder.
"This is turning into a war of attrition," Thea muttered.
It was a brutal, grinding advance — the kind where even victory meant losing half your strength.
But with no choice left, they pressed on.
"RAAAAHHHH—!"
A roar shook the hall.
From a side passage charged a hulking brute wreathed in green vapor, a massive tank strapped to his back.
He lunged straight for Gordon — his fist aimed squarely at the old man's head.
But before he could swing, a batarang struck his arm.
The design was almost identical to Thea's — barbed hooks that dug in and refused to let go.
The trailing wire whipped taut, anchoring to a concrete pillar behind him.
If he kept moving, his arm would tear off before he landed a punch.
"Bane!"
Batman's gravelly voice echoed from above.
Thea couldn't help rolling her eyes.
You were literally right behind us, old man. You waited just to make a dramatic entrance, didn't you?
Finds the enemy, immediately grapples up to the rafters, drops one ominous line — classic Batman.
And after everyone's finished gawking in awe, then he'll jump down to fight.
She sighed.
"Yep. Totally Ra's al Ghul's son-in-law. Same flair for theatrics."
"He's mine. Keep moving — Arkham's got lower levels."
Batman's command came through the comm just before he dove into battle.
This time, Bane wasn't juiced up on venom — probably still traumatized from the last encounter with Thea.
He fought on pure muscle and technique.
And, credit where due, he was good.
Thea admitted that one-on-one, she couldn't beat him head-on.
But if she used her shadow double, two Theas versus one Bane? He'd last less than a minute.
Still, she didn't interfere.
Batman needed this fight — to exorcise his own demons.
So she and Catwoman guarded Gordon, leading the remaining squad deeper underground.
It was Catwoman who found the hidden elevator first.
Master thief, master locksmith — three flicks of her wrist, and the doors slid open.
No enemies awaited them below.
No "secret weapon."
What they did find were people.
Hundreds of them — huddled together, pale, trembling, half-conscious.
Over a thousand Gotham citizens, all imprisoned beneath Arkham.
Many were barely alive.
With fewer than fifty people left in their unit, it was impossible to evacuate them all — the elevator could only carry a dozen at a time, and above them the asylum was a warzone.
Every minute, another civilian collapsed.
Gordon turned to Thea — the unspoken plea clear in his eyes: Batman's busy. You've got the brain. What now?
Thea took a moment to think.
"Felicity, how deep underground are we? Run a 3D scan — see if there's any alternate passage nearby."
There was no way they were going to haul a thousand people out one elevator at a time.
At that rate, they'd be here till next year.