SON OF BATMAN

The city square in front of Gotham City Hall was packed with journalists, citizens, and curious onlookers, all waiting for answers. There had been no specific announcements, only that Commissioner Jim Gordon would be holding a press conference, and the gathering felt different—more urgent, more somber.

The air was thick with tension, a palpable sense of unease permeating the crowd. People whispered to each other, some speculating that it was about a new crime wave, others wondering if it had something to do with the mayor's office or a major change in the Gotham City Police Department. But no one was prepared for what was coming.

A podium had been set up at the top of the steps, but there was no sign of Commissioner Gordon yet. The press buzzed with activity, cameras at the ready, notebooks in hand, awaiting the commissioner's arrival. The murmurs of the crowd hummed louder, a chorus of questions hanging in the air. But even more than those physically present, thousands more watched from screens all across Gotham.

In homes, cafes, and businesses throughout Gotham, people were glued to their television screens. The broadcast was being aired on every major news station, online streams, and social media. This was Gotham's moment, and everyone, from the everyday citizen to the most hardened criminal, was tuning in.

Families sat huddled in their living rooms, cafes were buzzing with conversation, and smartphones displayed the live broadcast to commuters and passersby on the street. Even in the darkest corners of Gotham's underworld, eyes were fixed on screens, waiting. Gotham felt as if it had collectively held its breath.

Nobody knew what this was about, but one thing they were all certain of was that it was going to be big.

"What could this be about?" one reporter asked another as they adjusted their camera angles.

"Some big announcement, obviously," another replied, checking his watch. "Maybe they finally got one of the big crime bosses, or there's some new task force being announced. Who knows?"

"Commissioner Gordon never calls something this quickly unless it's big," one veteran reporter muttered. "But I've never seen this much attention for just a local announcement."

"I don't like this," a young journalist muttered. "Feels too heavy for just a routine update."

"Yeah, I've also got a bad feeling about this,"another reporter replied.

The whispers among the crowd grew louder, speculation running wild. But the truth was far from anyone's expectations.

Suddenly, the double doors of City Hall swung open, and the crowd quieted almost instantly as Commissioner Gordon emerged. His face was pale, worn by years of hard decisions, but today, his expression was heavier than usual. It was the look of a man burdened with a truth too hard to speak.

As he approached the podium, the cameras zoomed in on his face. Those watching from home or in public spaces felt a similar tension—their hearts pounding with anticipation. Gotham had seen its share of breaking news, but this felt different, heavier.

"Why does he look like that?" a woman muttered, watching the broadcast from a cafe.

Her companion shook his head. "I don't know, but it can't be good."

Gordon gripped the podium and got closer to the mic. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, glancing briefly over the gathered crowd who was attentive to his every move. Then, finally, he spoke with a steady voice despite the weight of his words.

"Gotham... our city... for as long as I've known it, has been a place plagued by lawlessness and decay. Years ago, it was rotting from the inside out, a place where crime and corruption had sunk their claws into every level of the city. The police department was no exception. There was a time when the police force itself was as much a part of the problem as the criminals running the streets. The city was lost. It was... broken. The entire system was compromised."

He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. The crowd was silent now, hanging on every word, the only sound the soft whirring of camera shutters and the occasional gasp as the weight of Gordon's words settled over them.

The citizens watching from their homes were silent, eyes glued to the screen as Gordon's words hit close to home. For many, this was a reminder of the dark times, when Gotham seemed beyond saving.

"But out of that darkness, something manifested, hope." Gordon continued, his voice firm but reverent. "A figure appeared—someone willing to stand up for Gotham when no one else would. Someone who didn't ask for thanks, who didn't want recognition. And for a long time, most people didn't even believe he existed. They called him an urban myth, a shadow—just stories that people told to scare criminals."

In homes and public spaces, people leaned in closer to their screens. They knew who Gordon was referring to now.

Gordon's hand gripped the podium tighter as he went on. "But he was real. And in the years that followed, he became something more than just a man. He became Gotham's protector, its Dark Knight. For nearly 20 years, he fought to keep this city safe, to stop the chaos that threatened to tear it apart. From behind the scenes, from the rooftops and the shadows, he fought battles most of us will never know."

The journalists shifted uneasily, starting to understand the weight of what was being said. Their pens hovered over their notebooks, poised to capture the truth they were hearing.

"And never once did he ask for credit," Gordon added. "Never once did he step into the light. He didn't care if anyone knew his name. He didn't want fame or glory. All he wanted was to keep Gotham safe. He was... is, the best of us."

Gordon's voice softened, and he took a deep breath. He raised his head, looking out over the sea of faces, many of whom still didn't realize what was coming.

"We called him the Batman." He paused, letting the name settle in the air, the crowd now entirely focused.

Commissioner Gordon paused for a moment, letting the murmurs die down before continuing. "When Batman first appeared in Gotham, there were stories—rumors about a shadowy figure taking down criminals. People said it couldn't be real. A vigilante dressed like a bat? The idea sounded... impossible and laughable"

He paused, shaking his head slightly as if recalling the disbelief of those early days. "For a time, no one believed he existed. Not the criminals, not the police, and certainly not the public. But it wasn't long before that changed."

The square fell silent, with only the clicking of cameras and the scribbling of pens filling the void as the journalists took notes.

In homes, people nodded to themselves. "Batman," someone whispered, eyes still fixed on the screen.

Gordon continued, his voice steady, "In time, he became something more. He wasn't just a myth or a story people whispered about in the streets. He was real. Batman became a force of nature. He wasn't just fighting for Gotham's people—he was fighting to take Gotham back. He protected us for almost two decades, often working behind the scenes, often without recognition, and always without asking for anything in return, and that's because he didn't do it for fame or recognition. He did it because it was the right thing to do. He fought for this city in the dark, when no one else would."

There was a murmur among the journalists as they listened, captivated by the weight of Gordon's words. The atmosphere in the square grew somber as the reality of Batman's long-standing fight to protect Gotham began to settle in.

He paused again, the weight of his next words heavy in the air. "And now, after years of standing as Gotham's protector... he's gone."

The square fell silent, so silent that you could hear a pin drop. All the people present were shocked, their mouths open in disbelief. The words hung in the air like a physical presence, suffocating and surreal.

There was an audible gasp from the crowd, as the weight of Gordon's announcement finally hit them. Batman—Gotham's dark guardian—was dead.

"Batman is dead?" someone whispered, the words barely audible yet echoing through the stunned silence.

A wave of disbelief spread through homes, cafes, bars and even the shadiest corners of Gotham. People were frozen, staring at their screens, trying to process the enormity of what they had just heard. In that moment, the city seemed to collectively hold its breath, as if the very soul of Gotham had been shaken to its core.

Gordon took a moment to let that sink in before continuing. "Yes, Batman is dead." The reality of the statement hit even harder when spoken so plainly.

"As for how it happened..." Gordon's voice cracked slightly, a rare show of emotion from the usually stoic commissioner. He paused, composing himself. "I think it would be best if I let someone who was there explain."