Time's Up, Joker.

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(General P.O.V.)

"Bruce... stay behind me!" His mother's voice trembled with desperation.

Bruce's father stood resolute, shielding them both as he tried to reason with the man pointing a gun in their direction.

"What do you want? Money? I can—"

His father's plea was abruptly silenced by a gunshot.

"Dad!"

Bruce cried out, trying to rush to his father's side, but another shot rang out, halting him.

His mother's body crumpled to the ground, her blood mingling with his father's on the cold wet alley. In that moment, Bruce's world shattered.

His gaze, now filled with unbridled hatred, locked onto the man who had torn his life apart.

The Ghost Rider's flaming skull leaned down close to Bruce, its hollow eyes boring into his very soul, exposing every hidden fear.

"YOU HIDE IT WELL, SPIRIT OF FEAR. BUT YOU CANNOT DECEIVE MY EYES. YOU CRAVE... BLOODY VENGEANCE."

---

Bruce's eyes snapped open, the vivid memories fading as reality returned.

He found himself in a sterile hospital room, limbs weak as he struggled to sit up.

He reached for his chin, feeling the rough stubble. Judging by the length of his nails, he'd been out for—

"Eight days."

he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Water. He needed water first. Then, he needed to get out of this bed and find the Rider.

This time, Batman would be ready for the Penance Stare.

(Michael's P.O.V.)

A week spent at Selina's did wonders for my fractured psyche. She set me up in the spare bedroom of the loft above her club, a space she rarely used since she had another apartment in a safer part of the city.

She also arranged for one of the serving girls to handle the cooking and cleaning, though Selina insisted on taking care of my... personal needs.

To say I was left speechless when she boldly walked in while I was in the bath was an understatement. Her reason? to wash my hair.

"...And that's not even the worst of it, Babe. You'd probably kick my ass if I told you everything. Husband of the year, I'm not. But knowing you, you'd also encourage me to make a move."

A chuckle escaped me, the sound breaking the silence of the graveyard.

"Best wingman ever."

I whispered, tracing the engraved names on the gravestone—Sarah and Emily Hawthorne.

I'd missed their funeral while I was in the hospital. But Selina, ever thoughtful, had them cremated as Sarah had always wanted.

She gave me their ashes, and was there when I scattered them into the sea. The gravestones were a physical reminder of their memory.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." I don't know how long I stayed there, letting the tears fall for the second time since I'd been released from the hospital.

More than missing them, I despised myself for my weakness then. For letting them die that night. This was DC, I should have tried to gain powers...any power. At least enough to protect them. But I hadn't. The guilt was a block of ice lodged in my throat.

"Code 3, 10-15, getting ready to escort the prisoner to Blackgate..."

The police radio on my hip crackled to life, snapping me back to the present.

But now that I had power, I would use it to make their loss mean something. To punish those who deserve it.

It was time.

Placing the bouquet of roses before the grave, I stood up.

"I'm doing something to make up for failing you two. I hope you're proud of me..."

The tears evaporated, consumed by the flames of retribution as my face transformed into a burning skull.

"IT'S TIME FOR PUNISHMENT."

-0-

Elsewhere in Gotham, a police convoy moved through the city, led by four patrol cars—two at the front and two bringing up the rear.

At the center of the convoy was a reinforced prisoner transport truck, carrying Jimmy Tribbiani in his orange prison uniform.

"Golf 1 status check. How's the road looking?"

Harvey called from inside the fourth patrol car.

The lead car responded,

"All clear, Golf 4."

Harvey turned to his partner with a sigh,

"We can relax."

"For now."

Gordon grunted, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. His eyes never left the transport truck infront of them.

"You think Two-Face will try something?"

Harvey asked, tearing open a Snickers wrapper. His 5th one.

"Those things will kill you."

Gordon remarked, before answering, "And no, I don't think. I know he will. But that's not what I'm worried about."

Harvey caught on, scoffing,

"You think the Rider will show up. I wouldn't worry too much. We've got those two hanging around. If he does, he's screwed."

"Yeah... you're probably right." Gordon replied, though a persistent sense of dread gnawed at him.

For a while, the convoy moved steadily toward Blackgate Penitentiary, which was perched on a peninsula a few miles outside the city.

As the imposing facility came into view from a far, Gordon noticed something in the rearview mirror.

"Harvey, behind us."

he said grimly.

Bullock turned, his face paling at the sight of a flaming skull rapidly closing in on them.

"Fuck me, he can fly too?!"

"Not flying. He's using chains to swing."

Gordon corrected, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Order the convoy to speed up. He's after Tribbiani."

Behind them, the Ghost Rider hurled his chains, their infernal ends wrapping around streetlights. With a powerful yank, he launched himself forward, hurtling through the air.

Cars swerved and honked below, narrowly avoiding the Rider, who left a trail of burning street poles in his wake.

The road ahead twisted sharply, leading to an area devoid of streetlights. The Rider jumped from the last one, running along the side of a billboard.

His fiery steps scorched the smiling face of a bald man on the advertisement before he leaped, tearing a street pole from the ground and hurling it through the tires of the transport truck.

Btoom!

The truck flipped into the air, crashing onto its roof, sparks flying as it skidded across the asphalt.

"Damn it!"

Gordon cursed, swerving to avoid the truck's flying tire. The maneuver left the other patrol car vulnerable.

"POTS!"(STOP)

Zatara appeared in a timely manner above the vehicle, casting a spell that halted the tire's momentum.

At the same time, the Rider soared toward the fallen truck, only to be intercepted midair by a collision with the flying Martian Manhunter.

The two tumbled over the palm trees lining the road, heading straight for the sea.

'(Zatara, I will handle the Ghost Rider. Tend to the wounded!)' Manhunter's voice echoed telepathically.

'(No! J'onn, you'll be weak to his flames!)'

Zatara warned, his concern evident.

'(Not if we are in the water.)' Manhunter countered, plunging both himself and the Rider into the cold waters of the bay.

The flames around the Rider's skull extinguished, leaving behind bleached bone.

It thrashed, trying to resurface, but Manhunter was ready. He increased his cell density, making himself heavier without changing size.

Then he shifted into a mass of green tentacles, wrapping tightly around the Ghost Rider to drag him deeper into the abyss.

They sank like an anchor, the city lights fading above them.

Manhunter reached out telepathically to the Rider, establishing a mind link.

'(Cease your struggle, strange creature. Here you cannot harm anyone. Once you pass out, you will answer for your crimes.)'

The Ghost Rider's struggles ceased.

'(Good. Now to discover what you are... what?! Your mind... how can this be?!!)'

Manhunter recoiled in horror, his consciousness buckling under the weight of the Rider's memories.

'(Such pain and suffering!... It's too much... I-it hurts!! W-what are you?!)'

Manhunter had never encountered a being like this, and it was tearing him apart.

"(I AM YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE, J'ONN JONNZ OF MARS. THE FIRE OF REGRET!) "

The Rider answered back.

A wisp of blue flame ignited in the Rider's empty eye sockets, exploding outward in a blaze that seared the water around them.

Manhunter screamed as his form began to dissolve, his green flesh melting away.

Desperate, he detached a portion of himself, shifting into a sleek green swordfish in an attempt to escape.

"(YOU CANNOT FLEE. YOUR JUDGEMENT HAS ARRIVED.)"

Enveloped in blue fire, the Rider's chains shot out, ensnaring the fish.

Manhunter reformed, now a massive, tentacled beast—a Kraken. His red eyes glowed with panic as the chains tightened around him.

Abandoning escape, he lashed out with thick, poison-laden tentacles.

The Rider countered with infernal speed, blocking the strikes with one chain and tightening his grip on the Kraken with the other. The clash between flesh and metal was so intense, it churned the sea into a violent froth.

On the shore, after assisting the police, Zatara watched the turbulent waters with growing alarm. Immediately he took to the air with a levitation spell.

'(J'onn! I sense your terror! I'm coming!)'

He said, reaching out through their mental link, closing in on the battle below.

'(No, stay away, Zatara! He—)' Manhunter's voice was abruptly cut off as the mind link shattered.

'(Manhunter!!)'

Zatara cried, hovering over the roiling waters, ready to dive in.

But before he could, a bluish glow surged from the depths.

"Dleihs Ria!" (Air Shield)

Zatara's quick reflexes saved him, casting a protective barrier just as a fiery explosion erupted from the sea, slamming into his shield and hurling him backward.

"Tropelet!" (Teleport!)

The Magician materialized on the beach, gasping for air.

His heart raced, and his hands trembled—he'd narrowly escaped death. That last attack had obliterated his protective shield in an instant, leaving him utterly vulnerable.

He turned his gaze to the sea, only to be met with a sight that defied all logic.

The entire bay was bone dry, the ocean water utterly gone, leaving behind a vast, scorched crater that was now slowly refilling with water, steam rising in thick clouds from the exposed seabed.

"This...this can't be real..." Zatara whispered, his voice barely audible as he stared, dumbfounded, at the devastation before him.

But the shock didn't end there.

Rising from the depths of the blackened pit, came an earthshaking roar.

A monstrous green dragon emerged, its massive wings and tails wreathed in infernal blue flames. Perched atop its back was the Ghost Rider, his flaming skull casting a ghastly glow over the charred landscape. His chains, secured around the dragon like reins.

Zatara's breath caught in his throat as the dragon flew overhead, its immense form blotting out the moonlight. His eyes widened in disbelief as he caught a glimpse of the creature's familiar face and red eyes.

"I-is that... J'onn?"

he stammered, barely recognizing the Martian Manhunter in the fiery dragon's form.

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