Capítulo 51: Chapter 50 (edited)
Although Gordon had been tasked with destroying the viaduct, Kara and Bruce remained on high alert. Their mission wasn't complete; they still needed to track down the root cause of the chaos—Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, and his associates.
Kara questioned the logic of Gordon's plan. "If all we need is to destroy the viaduct, wouldn't it have been simpler to demolish it from this side? Why did he have to go all the way into the city?"
Bruce sighed in mild exasperation. "Can you stop second-guessing everything for once?"
Kara shrugged as she roundhouse-kicked a crazed attacker into a nearby wall. "I'm just saying. If we're trying to cut off their escape route, why not do it where they can see it and stop their plan cold? This way, we're risking the whole city."
Despite Kara's complaints, Bruce knew there was no turning back now. Gordon was already carrying out his part of the plan. Gotham's fate depended on it.
Meanwhile, chaos reigned supreme on Narrows Island. The air was thick with fear toxin, driving its victims to either collapse under the weight of terror or succumb to fits of unbridled rage. The streets were overrun with violence as hallucinating civilians lashed out at their perceived nightmares.
Kara's expression hardened. She couldn't stand idly by as people were hurt. Moving swiftly, she incapacitated anyone attacking others, though her strength was far from gentle. Those left in her wake would require medical attention for days, if not weeks.
Bruce also worked to subdue the infected but avoided using lethal force. Perhaps, even now, his resolve to never kill was beginning to take root.
As Bruce handled another wave of panicked civilians, Kara suddenly grabbed the edge of his cape, pulling him back with unexpected force.
"What is it?" he asked, concern lacing his voice as he steadied himself.
Kara closed her eyes, focusing intently. Her enhanced senses picked up faint voices through the chaos. When she reopened her eyes, her expression was grim. "Your friend Rachel—she's here. She's in danger."
"What?" Bruce's mask of composure cracked as worry overtook him. "Rachel? Where?"
"Follow me," Kara said, breaking into a sprint.
Bruce didn't question her instincts. Rachel Dawes, his close friend and moral compass, was more than capable of taking care of herself, but even she wasn't immune to the effects of the toxin spreading through the city.
They weaved through the frenzied streets of the Narrows until they reached a dark alleyway.
There, Rachel was desperately shielding a terrified child. Behind her, a group of escaped Arkham inmates, armed with makeshift weapons and driven mad by fear gas, were closing in.
Bruce didn't hesitate. With practiced precision, he dove into the fray, disarming and subduing the attackers with a series of punches and kicks. However, in the chaos, he failed to notice that Kara had disappeared.
Across the city, a horse galloped wildly down a deserted street. Atop it was Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, clinging to the reins with a manic grip. His crude burlap mask hung crookedly on his head, and stun guns dangled uselessly at his side.
The self-proclaimed master of fear was no warrior. His only weapon was the gas he had engineered, a tool to exploit the fears of others. Without it, he was just a man—a terrified man.
He screamed in panic, believing Batman was chasing him again. But this time, it wasn't Bruce Wayne on his trail. It was someone far more terrifying.
Kara soared through the air like a silent predator, her black cape billowing behind her. The sight of her descent filled Crane with a dread unlike any he had inflicted upon others.
With a resounding thud, Kara landed in front of the horse, halting its frenzied charge. Startled, the animal reared onto its hind legs, attempting to kick her.
Kara didn't flinch. Grabbing the horse by its head, she flipped it effortlessly over her shoulder, sending it crashing to the ground.
The Scarecrow was thrown from the saddle, landing with a painful thud. He scrambled to his feet and tried to crawl away.
"Going somewhere?" Kara's voice was icy as she planted a boot on his back, pinning him to the ground.
"Who are you?" Crane gasped, struggling futilely under her weight.
"Who I am doesn't matter," Kara replied, a cold smirk tugging at her lips. "What matters is that you're about to pay for what you've done."
She increased the pressure on his back, eliciting a series of sickening cracks as his spine began to give way. Crane screamed in agony, his cries echoing through the empty street.
"You claim to worship fear," Kara said, her tone mocking. "Then let me show you what fear truly feels like."
As the Scarecrow's body convulsed beneath her, Kara's mind was filled with memories of the countless atrocities she had witnessed in her travels. She had seen tyrants and monsters who preyed on the weak, and she had no tolerance for those who reveled in the suffering of others.
"You're not him!" Crane screamed through his pain. "You're not Batman! He'd never do this to me!"
Kara's smile widened. "Congratulations. You figured it out."
With a final, crushing stomp, she ended his life.
For a moment, she stood there, staring at the lifeless body of the Scarecrow. Then, with a flick of her cape, she turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving only silence in her wake.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder