The Year Editionbatm... - Batman Arkham City Game Of

The snow fell in thick, heavy sheets over the walled-off nightmare of North Gotham. Inside Arkham City, the air tasted of salt, old blood, and frozen exhaust. Bruce Wayne—or rather, the Batman—perched atop the rusted gargoyle of the Solomon Wayne Courthouse, his cape snapping in the sub-zero wind.

"Don't look so sour, Bats!" Joker wheezed, a jagged grin splitting his face. "It’s the big finish! The encore! One of us leaves here in a box, and the other... well, the other gets to live with the memory."

He landed silently behind a group of Penguin’s "cobblepots" near the Museum. They were armed with heat-seeking thermal trackers, a gift from the black market. Batman didn't give them time to check the screens. He was a blur of gray and black—a smoke pellet burst, and then came the rhythmic thud-crack of bone against composite armor. In seconds, they were slumped in the snow. Batman Arkham City Game of the Year EditionBatm...

Finally, the Steel Mill. The air here was hot, smelling of sulfur and rot. Talia al Ghul was there, caught in the middle of a deadly game. And then, there was the Joker.

"The cure is with Freeze," Batman replied, diving off the ledge. The snow fell in thick, heavy sheets over

"You... you really would have given it to me," Joker whispered, his voice failing as he slumped against a crate. "Even after everything I've done."

The clown looked horrific. His skin was sloughing off in patches, his eyes bloodshot and wild. He sat in a makeshift throne, coughing up black bile while a cinema projector played old cartoons on a dirty sheet. "Don't look so sour, Bats

Batman looked at the shimmering blue vial locked behind reinforced glass. He had hours left. Maybe less. His vision blurred for a second—a symptom of the Joker’s poisoned blood. He saw a flash of a laughing face in the shadows, but it was just a hallucination. "I’ll find her," Batman promised.