Outside Gotham's Second Bank.
A chilling wind howled through the streets. The dim glow of the bank's entrance lights cast deep shadows, making the surroundings feel even more ominous.
Suddenly, a black armored truck sped toward the bank. With a sharp screech, it came to an abrupt halt, breaking the silence of the night.
The vehicle's doors burst open. A group of heavily armed robbers, clad in black hoods, poured out. Leading them was none other than Two-Face.
Under the flickering streetlight, his signature half-disfigured face looked particularly menacing, while the unscarred half was filled with greed and madness.
The robbers charged into the bank, shoving open the heavy doors with brute force.
Immediately, the piercing wail of an alarm echoed through the building.
Terrified customers and employees screamed in panic, scrambling for safety, but the robbers swiftly aimed their weapons at them, forcing them into a corner.
"Stay still! Move, and you die!"
A thug brandished his submachine gun, his eyes gleaming with ruthless intent.
Chaos erupted in the bank's lobby. Documents and dollar bills scattered across the floor as the robbers smashed through counters, stuffing stacks of cash into their bags.
Their silhouettes flickered in the dim lighting, resembling demons from hell, plunging the once-peaceful bank into absolute terror.
At the center of it all, Two-Face flipped his infamous coin—one side pristine, the other deeply scarred.
His twisted grin widened under the flickering lights, his lone eye reflecting a cold and merciless glint.
Heads—the victims would live.
Tails—every single one would die.
The hostages held their breath, their eyes locked on the flipping coin. Fear paralyzed them, their hearts pounding like war drums.
Everyone knew Two-Face's rules.
This coin would decide their fate.
Two-Face caught the coin and slammed it onto the back of his hand. Slowly, he lifted his fingers to reveal the outcome.
Tails.
"You've been abandoned by fate."
His voice was eerily calm, devoid of emotion. His lone eye gleamed with merciless cruelty.
He pocketed the coin and smirked menacingly.
"Kill them."
Those three words, spoken like a final judgment from hell, sent the entire room into despair.
The robbers raised their guns without hesitation, fingers already tightening around the triggers.
"Wait! This isn't fair! You're deciding everyone's life with a single coin toss?"
A Black man, holding his young son, stepped forward. His voice trembled, but his stance remained firm.
He had heard of Two-Face's twisted sense of justice. Perhaps arguing fairness could improve their odds of survival.
"Hahahaha… Fair?"
Two-Face burst into laughter, stepping closer to the man.
His grotesque face loomed inches away, radiating a suffocating presence.
The man's legs trembled, but he shielded his son with unwavering determination.
"Fairness! That is the only law! The great equalizer! The ultimate balance! So, I'll give all of you a fair chance."
Two-Face's voice escalated into a hysterical roar, echoing through the empty halls.
His henchmen did not object.
They were all outcasts—men who had suffered under Gotham's corruption. To them, chaos was justice.
Even if the police were to arrive, they wouldn't care.
Their eyes burned with hatred and twisted pleasure, eager to witness the upcoming bloodshed.
"Your son goes first."
Two-Face yanked the child from his father's arms. The boy burst into terrified wails.
"No! No, no, no! Take me instead! I was the one who spoke up—please!"
The father dropped to his knees, begging desperately.
"D-daddy…"
The child's cries were heart-wrenching.
"Tell your son that everything will be fine. His fate now rests in destiny's hands."
Two-Face flipped the coin once more. It spun through the air, glinting under the cold fluorescent lights.
The father was frozen in place, his gaze locked onto the coin. His breath hitched, terrified that even blinking might alter its course.
Clink!
Two-Face caught the coin and opened his palm.
Heads.
"You're lucky, kid."
Two-Face released his grip, and a thug dragged the boy toward the bank's entrance, tossing him outside.
"Phew…"
The father exhaled in relief—only for a gun to be pressed against his forehead in the next second.
"Did you really think your winged savior would come rescue you from this nightmare?"
Two-Face's deformed face sneered inches away, his voice dripping with mockery.
"Yes. Batman—the Dark Knight of Gotham. He saved me once before, and he will again."
The father's voice trembled, but his eyes held an unwavering belief.
All he needed to do was stall for time.
"Maybe he will. Maybe he won't. You see, I'm of two minds about this."
Two-Face flipped the coin once again.
But just as it reached the peak of its arc—
CRASH!
The bank's windows shattered. Glass shards rained down like razor-sharp confetti.
Several smoke grenades clattered to the floor, unleashing a thick, suffocating fog that spread rapidly.
Panic erupted in the lobby.
The robbers coughed and cursed, frantically waving their guns in the air.
"It's Batman! He's really here!"
"Where is he?!"
"Stay sharp—he'll attack from the shadows—"
Before the thug could finish his sentence, Batman charged in head-on.
The robbers stared in shock.
Why throw smoke grenades if you're just going to rush in like a lunatic?
"Shoot him!" someone shouted.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A hail of bullets rained toward Batman.
At first, he dodged with fluid precision, weaving through the gunfire with inhuman agility.
But soon—he simply stopped dodging.
Sparks exploded as bullets ricocheted off his armor. He bulldozed through the gunfire, knocking out enemies one by one.
Every strike was surgical, every movement calculated. Within moments, the robbers lay sprawled across the floor—either unconscious or groaning in agony.
It took immense skill to control one's strength, to land between breaking bones and just causing pain.
"Two-Face. Surrender."
Batman's deep, gravelly voice echoed like a judge's final verdict.
But Two-Face barely reacted.
His focus remained on the coin in his hand.
Tails.
He looked at the father and sneered.
"Your luck isn't as good as your son's."
Without hesitation, he pointed the gun at the man's head and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The father collapsed—only to find himself still breathing.
Batman stood before him, cape billowing, his armored body shielding him from the bullet.
Quote of the Chapter:"Justice and chaos are two sides of the same coin. But fate only favors those who fight back."
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