Gotham Harbour was once a mighty port laden with majestic ships and mahogany ports was now reduced to a run-down, withered husk of its former self, abundant with drug deals and illegal weapons. Now the Gotham Harbour was dense with GCPD officers, red and blue lights flashing across the inky black sea and a bright yellow cordon snaking around a giant cargo ship.

“Batman,” Commissioner Gordon said, relief spread across his face. “Thought you’d never show.”

“What happened?”

“It’s a bloodbath,” Gordon said. “Bunch of smugglers, or what’s left of em were found by the janitor this evening.”

“Ship doesn’t look like it’s from Gotham.”

“Well get this,” Gordon said. “It isn’t. It’s a stolen cargo ship from Somalian ports. The people who stole it where smugglers from Wakanda.”

“Wakanda?”

Gordon nodded. “What they smuggled from there, God knows. Crew was led by one Ababas Liamsi. Wakandan born. Arrested for fraud and one hell of a debt, he was supposed to meet his buyer at Gotham two months ago but then this happened…”

Gordon beckoned to at Batman to follow him under the cordon. “Take a look.”

Batman followed Gordon through the eerily empty ship. Outside the ship, Batman saw one cop kneeled over, puking into the river. The rest all had pale faces, faces of shock, faces of disbelief. Batman knew Gotham, he knew on the daily just what Gotham’s finest had seen. Men dipped in acid, innocent men and women with their faces removed, their genitals mutilated and a whole array of violent crimes perpetrated the worst Gotham had to offer. But this, this was something not even the GCPD had seen before.

As they navigated the multi-coloured cargo containers, Batman saw men. Or what remained of them. Limbs scattered around like toys in a playground, men torn in half, their intestines spilling from their stomachs. Heads bobbing back and forth with the ship, rolling like soccer balls.

“Jesus,” Gordon said, almost stepping on a man’s eyeball. As they went inside the trail of blood continued. The narrow hallways of the ship were caked in blood and bodies, fingers, noses, heads, torsos, intestines all littered the floor they walked on. Bodies were hung on the roof, their guts the only thing keeping them tethered. One man had his entire abdomen split open revealing what could only be described as the world’s most detailed anatomy lessons. Bodies were twisted like twigs; limbs were bent at odd angles.

Whatever did this wasn’t human, Batman thought. Whatever did this was a monster.

“This doesn’t compare to what was in the vault room,” Gordon said, stepping over a man’s arm.

And Gordon was right. The vault room was a literal bloodbath. Every inch of the vault was covered in blood, with limbs scattered all over the room and organs dotting the floor.

At the end of the room was a large silver vault. By the vault a man’s head was stuck on a metal stake, his face forever trapped in an expression of fear.

The head of Ababas Liamsi