Chapter 3: The Echo in the Dark
The hostage was safe. For now.
But Joker had left a message far louder than any explosion.
"You're not HIM."
The words stuck like a knife behind Draven's ribs.
He moved swiftly through the gutted remains of Kane's Carousel, boots silent on shattered tiles. Every hallway felt like a stage built for madness. Joker wanted a reaction. He wanted to stir the darkness Bruce left behind and watch what came crawling out of it.
And Draven?
He wasn't sure what he was becoming.
A sudden beep sounded in his earpiece—barely reactivated, barely holding together from old tech he'd salvaged. His AI was primitive, but it picked up something: a motion tracker ping.
Something—no, someone—was following him.
He turned sharply, body tensed, breath calm.
Nothing.
Then—metal groaned above.
He looked up.
THUD.
A figure dropped down behind him in total silence.
Draven spun and threw a straight jab—but the figure ducked. A leg sweep knocked him off his stance. He rolled backward, cape swirling, and came up ready.
Opposite him stood a woman in matte red and gray armor, twin short swords crossed on her back. Masked. Familiar.
"You're sloppy," she said coldly. "He'd never fall for a three-point distraction."
Draven narrowed his eyes.
"And who are you supposed to be?"
She hesitated… then pulled off her mask.
Sharp black eyes. Scar across her cheek. Dark hair tied back in a precise braid.
"Nyssa al Ghul," she said. "And if you think you're ready for what's coming, you're more arrogant than Bruce ever was."
Draven's blood ran colder than Gotham's winter rain.
"Why are you here?"
"Because Joker's return isn't the real threat," she said, stepping closer. "It's a symptom. The League has fractured. And a new faction has risen—The Red Doctrine. They're targeting Gotham next. Joker's just their opening act."
Draven's jaw tightened.
"I don't care about factions. I'm here for him."
Nyssa shook her head.
"And that's why you'll lose. Joker is the bait. And you're already in the trap."
Suddenly, a BOOM shook the city block.
Draven and Nyssa rushed to the rooftop just as a pillar of flame erupted from Gotham Police Headquarters. From blocks away, they could hear it—the chilling laughter bouncing across the skyline.
Joker had struck again.
And this time, he'd hit the city's last line of defense.
The GCPD.
The light of the Bat-Signal, once broken, had been crudely relit earlier that night. But now? Now it burned. Literally.
Draven stared at it—his cape flaring in the blast wind.
"He's escalating."
Nyssa looked at him.
"No. He's inviting you."
"Then I'll answer."
His eyes hardened.And somewhere deep within him, something colder took hold.
No more rescuing. No more warnings.
The next time they met, Draven wouldn't be chasing Joker.
He'd be hunting him