Justice League: Unite

Drawn Battle Lines

Gotham

The night was unforgiving in Gotham, a city known for its darkness and danger. But for Bruce Wayne, the night held a different call, one that was as familiar as the back of his hand. He walked the city's streets with a sense of purpose, the scents and sounds of Gotham filling his senses. Even though he could be lying in silk sheets in a million-dollar glasshouse miles away, the city's pull was undeniable. A distant police siren jolted him from his thoughts, momentarily making him forget that it was all over.

He couldn't help but reflect on the passage of time. Batman was no longer the young man seeking revenge; he had taken it. Nearly forty years had passed since his birth in this very city, and he had come full circle. He found himself returning to the place where his innocence had been shattered, where the darkness had taken root. It was older, dirtier, but the essence of Gotham remained unchanged. Crime Alley.

Bruce closed his eyes briefly, his mind drifting back to a painful memory from his childhood. He remembered the night he walked out of the theater with his parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne. It was a night that would haunt him forever. A punk with a loaded gun had approached them, demanding their valuables.

In a desperate attempt to protect his family, Thomas had slowly handed over his wallet, but a stumble had led to tragedy. The punk, in a panic, had wrongly believed that Thomas was trying to disarm him, and he pulled the trigger.

Bang.

The gunshot had echoed through the alley, and Bruce's world had shattered in an instant. His father fell, a crimson stain spreading across his chest. Martha's anguished scream was silenced by two more gunshots to her chest, the sound of her pearl necklace shattering on the pavement. Bruce had watched in stunned horror as his childhood innocence was brutally taken from him.

Bruce opened his eyes, exhaling a heavy breath. Above him, the Bat emblem lit up the night sky, a stark reminder of his purpose.

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Chinatown

Inside the Bank of Gotham in Chinatown, the day had started like any other. Customers engaged in discussions with bankers, some pleading for leniency on payments, others receiving stern reminders of their mounting debts. It was a mundane day at the office, but that was about to change.

A group of armed men in suits entered the bank, their briefcases concealing rifles. In a swift and coordinated move, they overpowered the security guards, sending them crashing to the ground. Panic swept through the crowd as they were taken hostage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a robbery," the leader declared, his voice cutting through the terror that had gripped the patrons and bankers. "Cooperate, and you'll be home in time for dinner."

The order was clear, and the hostages had no choice but to obey. They found themselves on the cold marble floor, their lives at the mercy of the armed intruders.

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The Bank Vault

Inside the bank vault, the remaining robbers pressured the manager to input the code to open the vault's door, the cold steel of a gun barrel pressed against his back. But in an instant, two gloved hands emerged from the shadows, and the manager's assailants were rendered unconscious as their heads collided.

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Back in the Main Area

The lights suddenly flickered and went out, plunging the main area of the bank into darkness. Confusion and fear swept through the room as the hostages tried to make sense of the situation.