The taxi wove through gray buildings and thin columns of smoke. The windows rattled with every jolt of the poorly maintained road. The smell of stale cigarettes and damp leather clung to the torn upholstery. Edgar kept his eyes open, but his entire body trembled within.
His hands gripped the crystal tightly inside his coat pocket. The bluish stone felt lighter that morning. Or perhaps it was he who was weaker.
'Bats again.'
The image flickered behind his eyelids—black wings scraping stone walls, screams in the dark, a figure with white eyes floating in the void.
"First time in Gotham?"
The driver glanced through the rearview mirror with tired eyes and forced curiosity.
Edgar took a moment to respond.
"First time… since I started dreaming about this place."
The driver let out a short, ironic laugh.
"Yeah, lots of people dream of Gotham. Most wake up in the hospital… or don't wake up at all."
Edgar didn't laugh.
He just looked out the window.
Outside, the old buildings seemed to watch. As if Gotham were alive and waiting.
'I didn't come to save. I came to obey.'
'Find the clown.'
'Deliver the crystal.'
The whisper came every night. Amid the sound of breaking bones and laughter that seemed to ooze from the walls of his room. A laughter without a mouth, without origin. But always the same:
"Joker."
Edgar gripped the crystal harder. His heart raced, his eyes fixed on the concrete horizon. The city swallowed the morning light as if it despised the sun.
---
Arthur's Apartment – Joker
The light struggled to enter through the window. Tattered curtains swayed in the breeze. The floor was filthy, marked by old footprints and dried splashes of something no one cleaned anymore.
Arthur spun slowly in the center of the room. One step. Then another. Imaginary music filled the real silence. Arms raised. A twirl. His swollen face still bruised, his ribs aching with every stretch.
Dried blood on his shirt. A fracture hidden beneath the skin.
His mind didn't dance with his body.
It was kneeling. Sophie.
Her dress crumpled. Eyes brimming. Hair falling over her shoulders as if afraid to touch him.
"I'm sorry… Arthur…"
Her voice was low, choked.
"I… I just wanted to help you."
Arthur stopped spinning in his mind. The music faded. His gaze locked on her.
"You sold yourself."
Sophie's shoulders shrank, her face in pain.
"He said he'd take care of you… pay for everything… he only asked that I…"
She didn't finish. She didn't need to.
"You slept with him."
She was crying now. On her knees.
"It was just once…"
Arthur leaned in. His eyes blinked in slow motion. The laughter didn't come.
Not yet.
"You think once changes less?"
"I love you…"
"No."
The word fell like a blade in his mental floor.
"You love what you wanted me to be."
Sophie vanished. Like a bursting bubble. Like paper burned in the wind.
Arthur opened his eyes. Standing in the middle of the room. Hands raised in a dance pose. His heart beating slowly.
"I love you," he repeated alone.
But only the dust heard.
Knock, knock.
The tap on the door was soft.
Then louder.
Arthur turned his face slowly.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
He wasn't expecting anyone.
Not at that address.
Not at that hour.
But his eyes glinted faintly.
---
Tremors in his hands. Breath caught in his chest. An inexplicable heat burning inside his pocket. Edgar wondered if it was fever or madness. But he was past the stage of trying to understand. Now, all that remained was to obey.
Knock. Knock.
Knock… knock.
The doorknob turned.
Arthur opened the door with a sharp motion.
His face was swollen, patched with bruises and expired medicine. His left eye barely opened. His body still danced with the pain of the last beating.
Edgar raised his face. His voice came out as if dragging sand through his throat.
"Arthur Fleck."
Arthur watched. Silent. A second longer than necessary.
"Who are you?"
"It doesn't matter."
Edgar reached into his pocket. His fingers trembled but found what they sought.
"I came to deliver this."
The blue stone pulsed between his fingers. It glowed without direct light. It breathed on its own.
Arthur observed.
"Pretty."
"It's not meant to be pretty."
"Then what is it?"
Edgar took a deep breath. The word barely came out.
"They call it the Water Crystal. But he told me you'd know what to do."
Arthur blinked.
"Who told you?"
"The bat."
Arthur frowned, as if he hadn't heard right.
"What?"
Edgar took half a step forward. His eyes sunken, the dark circles so deep they seemed like mental bruises.
"Every night. The same dream. The same shadow. A man… no. A demon with white eyes. Dark skin like smoke. A deep voice. And wings. Wings like an abyss."
Arthur gripped the doorframe.
"You're telling me… a talking bat sent you here?"
"Yes."
The word snapped in the air.
"He said: 'Take it to the clown. Give him the crystal. Then sleep.'"
Arthur let out a short laugh. But it held no humor. Just his body trying to expel the discomfort.
"You think I'm that clown?"
Edgar handed over the crystal with both hands. His skin was pale, his eyes unfocused. But the firmness in his action made the madness seem true.
"You're not. Not yet. But you will be."
Arthur didn't move.
The blue light of the crystal reflected in his eyes.
"Nobody's ever given me anything that shines…"
"I'm not giving it to you. I'm passing it on. Because he told me to."
Arthur took the crystal.
The heat coursed through his fingers. It didn't burn. It swirled within. A whirlpool of water and iron that shouldn't fit in a stone.
"Why me?"
Edgar laughed. Low. But not with joy.
"Because you're the only one who won't try to fix the world with it."
Arthur stared at him.
"You know me?"
"No."
"Then how do you know?"
Edgar stepped back.
"Because I saw. In the dream. The way you look. How you laugh. How you bleed. The bat showed me."
Arthur closed his hand around the crystal.
"And what else did he show?"
"He said you'll laugh last. But the laughter… it's not the prize. It's the poison."
Arthur stepped back from the door, making space.
"Come in."
Edgar shook his head. He didn't step forward.
"I can't. I've stayed too long. Every minute here… the sound comes back. The sound of wings."
"You look sick."
"I am. Of dreams."
Arthur looked at the crystal again.
"So you just want to get rid of this."
"No. I want to sleep."
Silence.
The kind of silence that only exists between two broken souls.
Arthur nodded, slowly.
"Go sleep."
Edgar stepped back. One step. Two.
His voice still floated before vanishing down the hall.
"The bat said that when you look at the sky… he'll be laughing."
The door closed with a slow click.
Arthur was alone.
The crystal pulsed in his hand like a second heart. Cold. Then hot. Then cold again.
He walked to the window. Looked at Gotham. Gray. Slow. The breath of a city always panting.
He raised the crystal. Held it to the light filtering between the buildings.
The stone changed color. Blue. Then green. Then… purple.
Arthur smiled.
"A bat sent this… to me."
He spun on his heels.
Pressed the crystal to his forehead.
The world trembled.
Not outside.
But within.
The city's sound vanished. The room stretched. The ceiling breathed. The walls dripped.
Arthur closed his eyes.
And saw.
Sophie was back.
But now she wasn't kneeling.
She was on the ceiling. Stuck upside down. Crying blood.
Bruce was sitting on the couch, but his face was covered by a bat mask. His chest open. His heart exposed. Beating slowly.
Arthur walked between them.
"Is this real?"
His own voice echoed in multiple directions.
The crystal answered with a crack.
A fracture.
From the floor, a laugh emerged. Not his. Not the city's. A new one.
A sharp, uneven laugh. A baby learning to laugh with a mouth full of glass shards.
Arthur opened his eyes.
The apartment was as it was before.
But the world… wasn't.
He closed his hand. The crack in the crystal was still there. But the glow was stronger now.
A soft beat echoed in the back of his mind.
Thump. Thump.
Not his heart. Something bigger. Older.
Arthur sat on the couch.
His head tilted to the side.
His eyes fixed on the wall.
And the laughter…
Low.
Slow.
Rising like bubbles from the bottom of a dark lake.
"Alright, bat. If this was a game… now it's my turn."
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