Four grueling hours of all out war had passed, and the Batman could barely stand, his bruises had bruises, and blood gushed from his eyes. The Batman was absolutely confounded. He had never faced opponents so brutally repetitive and without motive. These three guys made The Joker seem sane.
The Batman was in the thick of things. He was surrounded by six frightened African-American teenagers. They had just smashed a stolen car into the side of a building. He did not have time for this, not with the Joker on the other side of Gotham on an unhinged killing spree. Things were about to go from bad to worst.
Batman sat behind the disturbingly large computer screen, his cowl draped behind his head blending into his cape. This was when he was most at ease, the rare moment of openly being both Batman and Bruce Wayne, watching over his city in the way God may look down on Earth, or a peeping Tom gazing into the biggest window. Even though it was Christmas, he was ever vigilant, for crime never acknowledges religious holidays.