Gotham City trembles under the weight of its own darkness as the legend of the Batman spreads fear through the criminal underworld. For a year, the Caped Crusader has prowled the shadows, striking terror into the hearts of Gotham's most notorious ga...
In the quiet of his living room, Harvey Dent's concern was palpable. The usually composed district attorney was a bundle of nerves, his mind consumed with worry for Vicki Vale. Her silence, uncharacteristic and prolonged, gnawed at him, especially against the backdrop of the night's alarming events. The explosions across Gotham, and particularly the news of the sinister smiley face in flames, had set the city on edge, and Harvey was no exception.
Oops! Această imagine nu respectă Ghidul de Conținut. Pentru a continua publicarea, te rugăm să înlături imaginea sau să încarci o altă imagine.
The phone, stubbornly silent, seemed to mock his growing anxiety. He paced the room, each step a futile attempt to quell his racing thoughts. "She's fine, she's just busy," he muttered to himself, trying to construct plausible reasons for her silence. But the reassurances rang hollow in the face of Gotham's unfolding chaos.
In a moment of desperation, Harvey walked over to a small cabinet. Opening it, he retrieved a bottle of anxiety pills. His hand shook slightly as he downed a few, hoping the medication would bring some semblance of calm to the storm of worry raging within him.
Harvey was no stranger to the dangers of Gotham, but the uncertainty surrounding Vicki's safety added a deeply personal dimension to the city's turmoil. He glanced again at his phone, willing it to ring, to bring him the sound of Vicki's voice, the confirmation that she was safe.
As the night wore on, the images of the fiery smiley face played over and over on the news, a grim reminder of the new level of threat that had descended upon Gotham. For Harvey, the night was a torturous blend of professional concern and personal fear, the fate of the city and the safety of someone he cared deeply for both hanging in the balance.
The tension in Harvey's living room intensified as the television suddenly cut to a breaking news alert. The screen flashed a bold "Breaking News" banner, signaling yet another twist in the unfolding chaos of the night. The anchor announced that they had received a mysterious video from an anonymous source, purportedly featuring the alleged suspect behind the recent bombings.
As the video began to play, the initial footage was shaky, captured by a handheld camera. The sound of laughter, sinister and unsettling, filled the air, adding a layer of dread to the already tense atmosphere. The camera movement was erratic at first, but then steadied as the person recording turned it around to reveal his face.
Harvey's heart sank as the man's face came into focus. It was a visage now becoming familiar to the citizens of Gotham – the scarred smile, the chaotic makeup, the wild eyes. It was the Joker, introducing himself to the world with a twisted sense of glee.
"Good evening, Gotham," the Joker began, his voice a combination of mockery and theatrics. "I suppose it's time we got properly acquainted. I'm the Joker, and I'm here to bring a little... anarchy."
The Joker's haunting monologue on the screen took an even more ominous turn as he delved deeper into his twisted rationale for the chaos he was unleashing on Gotham. His scarred face, illuminated by the flickering light of the camera, wore an expression of manic delight as he spoke.
