It’s a cold, drizzly evening in Gotham and yet she finds herself sweating. “How can I hunt a bat in the dark?” she asks herself, knowing full well that the environment gives the Caped Crusader the advantage. Then she sees him, perched high atop a commercial tower; he seems as still as stone, a gargoyle. She makes her approach, slowly, cautiously; aware of every step, breath, and heartbeat.Deftly she pulls her sai from her sash, she creeps ever closer, the rain exaggerating every movement, and then she strikes. Her blade sinks deep into the back of his neck…but wait, something’s wrong. The figure before her crumples to the ground without even a shudder and she realizes too late that it was a decoy. She scans the area but cannot find him, all she hears is a metallic click and then the grapple is around her neck. She grasps at her throat but to no avail, the cable is too tight.

As her vision fades and her heart fails, she sees him emerge from the shadows; majestic and ominous. He leans in close and whispers “I’m sorry”. Elektra Natchios is dead, and Batman rules the night once more.

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