With his diving gear equipped, Batman plunged into the murky depths of the waters around Gotham pier.

OXYGEN FILTER: ON, droned the voice of the Batcomputer.

OXYGEN CAPACITY AT A HUNDRED PERCENT

CALCULATING DEPTH

DEPTH 20M

The diving gear Bradfield had was built for depths of up to 100 meters and allowed for quick decompression as you got up the surface. Whoever built the technology was a genius.

As he plunged deeper into the surface, schools of fish spreading around him, kelp and garbage sticking to him.

DEPTH 40M

Deeper and deeper he plunged into the murky depths, accompanied only by the sound of his breathing and the beep of his computer as it counted down his oxygen capacity.

DEPTH 60M

Suddenly he came across a metal cylinder floating amidst a school of fish. The fish scattered as he picked it up. The words OPEN SESAME written in the centre. He attached it to his belt and dived further.

DEPTH 100M

In front of him he saw what looked like an underwater submarine station built into a rock face. It was the size of a small house with a circular door in the centre. Batman swam towards it and in the middle of that door was a small hole. Batman inserted the cylinder inside the door. The cylinder was sucked into the hole, the door started to spin and then it opened up, sucking the air around Batman and pulling him inside despite his best resistance.

As he landed inside the building, Batman couldn’t help but feel as if the Master Planner had been expecting him. He made a careful assessment of his surroundings, on his right, in neat rows were the purple diving suits he saw. Probably for emergency situations. And right next to those jumpsuits were harpoons, guns, oxygen tanks all lined up in separate rows. On his left was just a pool of water and behind him was the circular door he had entered through. Batman removed his scuba mask, diving equipment still on and explored the dark winding hallways of the Master Planner’s base.

As he explored he ran into rows of rooms with bunkers in them, what looked like a laboratory with boxes of the Wayne equipment they had stolen. There was even a refectory. Batman finally stumbled into the main command room which was deserted except for a computer in the middle.

Batman switched it on, any data whatsoever he could find on the Master Planner worth the risk of setting of a bomb.

The computer crackled and written at the top in small green text was: To the Batman.

The screen flickered to life and in the middle was a man in a scuba diving mask, his face blurred out by the film grain on the screen.

“Hello, Batman,” the man breathed. Batman assumed it was the Master Planner. “How’s the leg?”

The Master Planner paused, probably to gloat. “Ah don’t worry. We all know about it, my friends and I. I know about each and every one of my inventions and that leg of yours is no different. It’s back from the days I was naïve, the days when I thought scientific progress was dictated by how much of a difference it could make in the world and not by how much money it could make. Did you lose it trying to protect this city? But don’t worry, maybe you won’t have to sacrifice so much.”

Suddenly a picture flashed on the screen. It was a picture of a living room with expensive sofas and an even more expensive coffee table. On the coffee table was a briefcase with stacks of notes. Sitting on the largest sofa were his parents and sitting across them in a bright white suit was…

“Carmine Falcone,” Batman spat.

“This city was built on lies,” Master Planner said. “The Wayne family aren’t the saviours Gotham thought they were.”

Batman’s com started to buzz. It was Alfred. “Master Bruce.”

“And their legacy must be erased from this city,” Master Planner said, clenching his fist. “Gotham must be rid of her corruption before she’s able to move forward.”

“What is it Alfred?” Batman asked.

“You may want to see this.”

A screen of Gotham News Network appeared in front of Batman. “An image has suddenly surfaced…”

And GCN. “Wayne family built on lies.”

“Where is Bruce Wayne?”

“What the hell is going on?” Batman growled.

“I’m not sure Master Bruce,” Alfred said. “I wasn’t unaware of…”

“We’ll talk about this later, Alfred,” Batman said. “Right now, triangulate any location where there could be a bomb.”

“Starting with the Wayne factories that pollute our air and suffocate our citizens.”

…

In the Gotham night, six explosions lit up the air. Each of them Wayne factories, the Wayne name inscribed on the building being eaten away by the flames.