They're gone, and I'm the one still standing.
The last Bat.
The idea of that used to fill me with pride. Back when I thought this legacy-this insane, cursed mission-was worth fighting for. When I believed I was worthy of it. But now? I stare at the wasteland Gotham's become, and all I feel is empty.
My family... all of them died believing in this. In me. They died thinking I could carry on what they started. What they fought for. And what the hell do I have to show for it? A city in ruins and a guilt that's carved into my soul so deep I don't think it'll ever heal.