The first light of dawn struggled through the thick fog that clung to Gotham's streets.
Smoke from the previous night's chaos still lingered, curling in tendrils around toppled carts and shattered windows.
Jonathan, Crane, and Scrap moved cautiously through the East End, keeping to shadows and alleys where the rain had pooled in shallow rivulets. The city was stirring, but its heart still throbbed with fear and suspicion.
Jonathan's mind was focused on one target: Marcellus Graye, the mayor who had hidden behind pomp, speeches, and corruption for years.
Graye had manipulated the city for profit, bending politicians, industrialists, and even the police to his will. Tonight, his power would be exposed, and the people would see the truth.
Scrap led the way to a hidden pressroom beneath an abandoned warehouse.
Inside, William Ashford was already working tirelessly, the clatter of printing presses mingling with the hiss of the rain on the tin roof.
Stacks of freshly printed pamphlets were piled high, each sheet bearing evidence of Graye's treachery: ledgers, letters, and photographs proving the mayor's complicity with The Owe.
Ashford looked up as Jonathan entered. "It's all here. The city will see everything. The bribes, the shipments, the ritual payments. Graye's mask is finally falling."
Jonathan nodded grimly. "Let's make sure he can't spin this. The people have to understand who's been controlling them."
As the prints continued, Jonathan and Crane moved into the streets, distributing the evidence.
At first, the reaction was disbelief murmurs, whispers, and cautious glances at each other. But as more people read, comprehension dawned.
Shock gave way to outrage. Factory workers, merchants, and common citizens poured into the streets, carrying pamphlets, shouting accusations, and demanding justice.
Above, the courthouse bells rang as if in warning, but the people no longer feared the symbols of authority.
They now feared what they had been blind to for so long. Jonathan felt a surge of hope as the crowd's numbers swelled, their voices growing louder with each step toward city hall.
Inside city hall, Graye paced the floor of his office, the once-pristine walls now stained with soot and water from the storm. He had seen the pamphlets circulating, had heard the angry shouts of the masses.
Panic edged his voice as he barked orders at guards who hesitated, unsure if they should defend him or heed the rising tide outside.
Jonathan and Crane arrived at the steps of city hall, amidst a crowd that had grown beyond control. He caught sight of Graye through the doorway, pale and trembling, his power evaporating like mist under the sun.
The mayor tried to speak, but the citizens' chants drowned him out.
A sudden crash sounded behind them as part of the courthouse roof collapsed, sending debris into the streets.
Jonathan didn't flinch; the chaos only strengthened his resolve. He climbed the steps with Crane at his side, Scrap following close behind. Each step was a statement: no longer would the elites dictate Gotham's fate behind closed doors.
The mayor tried to flee, but the crowd surged forward, emboldened by the evidence Jonathan and Ashford had provided. He was grabbed by furious hands, dragged through the rain and mud. His protests were drowned by the chants: "Justice! Justice! Justice!"
Jonathan watched, emotion roiling within him. Graye's fall was more than personal victory; it was a signal. The Owe's reach was not absolute. Even the most untouchable could be brought down if the people rose together, armed with truth.
Scrap turned to Jonathan, eyes wide with awe. "They're seeing it. They're really seeing it."
Jonathan nodded, letting the crowd take the lead. "And they'll remember. Every name, every debt, every shadow. Gotham will not forget again."
From the shadows of the assembled crowd, figures associated with The Owe slipped away, their masks of authority stripped. Some fled into the alleys, some vanished into the storm, but all knew their control was shaken.
The city, long oppressed and silenced, had finally found its voice.
By the time night fell again, Graye was gone, taken by the mob to answer for his crimes, leaving a trail of exposed conspiracies behind him.
Jonathan, Crane, and Scrap returned to the tunnels beneath the city, weary but undefeated. The Owe had suffered a blow, and for the first time in decades, Gotham breathed with cautious hope.
Jonathan knew this was only a beginning. The city still held countless shadows, each one hiding new threats, but tonight proved that even the oldest, darkest debts could be challenged. The flames of rebellion had been lit, and nothing would quench them.