Batman zipped through the Watchtower with his intent blatantly known as his muscles flexed with his black cape whipping behind him like a snake ready to strike. Red emergency lights blared throughout the wall, casting long, jerking shadows. Alarms screamed in his ears, a shrill that did nothing to break his focus as he pushed forward. He moved fast, full sprint, adrenaline burning through his veins every second, critical.
He had almost reached the armory.
Then, without warning, a monstrous yellow construct—a colossal, spiked fist materialized from thin air and slammed into his chest with the force of a speeding freight train. The impact was devastating.
Batman's ribs crunched. Air exploded from his lungs in a wet gasp. His body hurtled backward, smashing through a reinforced steel door and slamming into the far wall of the armory with a sickening crack. The world blurred around him as pain flared, white-hot and merciless.
Sinestro emerged from the haze of pulverized debris, a cruel, satisfied grin twisting his alien features. His yellow ring glowed ominously, and the scent of fear radiated off of him as the two agents of fear greeted one another.
"Divide and conquer," Sinestro purred, his voice dripping with malevolence. "Your so-called Pillars of Justice will crumble one by one."
Batman groaned, feeling the distinct agony of fractured ribs. But he forced himself upright, pain was nothing new. Pain was familiar. Pain was fuel.
With lightning reflexes, he hurled three batarangs toward Sinestro. Each was armed with high-yield explosives designed to tear through steel. Sinestro lazily summoned a gleaming yellow shield, the projectiles bouncing off harmlessly.
A blade of pure fear-energy crackled into existence in Sinestro's hand—a twin-edged sword that screamed as it cut through the air—and he lunged, aiming for Batman's throat.
Batman ducked at the last second, feeling the weapon's heat graze his cowl. He rolled across the floor, dropping three smoke bombs. The corridor was instantly swallowed in a thick, suffocating mist.
Sinestro sneered, his voice slicing through the smoke.
"You're just a man, Batman. Flawed. Fragile. Broken."
From the grey void, Batman's voice growled back, cold and sharp as a razor's edge.
"You're right."
A sudden flash of motion, Batman struck from behind, slamming his gauntleted fist into Sinestro's jaw. The blow was enhanced by a violent electrical discharge, arcs of white-blue energy snapping through the air. Sinestro staggered, his head snapping to the side, but he remained standing, his face twisted into a snarl of contempt.
Their eyes locked.
The battle exploded into brutal chaos.
Batman fought like a berserker, his movements a brutal blend of martial precision and savage instinct. Every gadget, every ounce of strength, every dirty trick was deployed in a relentless assault. Grappling hooks wrapped around constructs, EMPs fizzled against Sinestro's shields, and sonic disruptors blasted at earsplitting frequencies.
Sinestro countered with cruel amusement, manifesting nightmare weapons with casual flicks of his ring: jagged chains that flayed flesh, monstrous hammers that shattered bone, serrated blades that thirsted for blood.
A massive yellow hammer slammed into Batman's side, sending him crashing through a wall. Blood splattered along the walls, his armor cracked and torn.
Before he could rise, yellow serpents of energy snared his limbs, tightening like a noose. He could feel the bruising start, the pressure building to the point of bones creaking.
Sinestro floated toward him, savoring every moment.
"Do you feel it?" Sinestro whispered, his voice a mockery of tenderness. "The inevitability of your failure? The finality of your mortality?"
Batman grunted, his vision swimming. He pressed a hidden switch on his belt, microblades hidden in his gauntlets snapped free, and with a guttural roar, he sliced through the serpents.
Batman exploded into action.
He vaulted up, driving a knee into Sinestro's abdomen, then slamming an electrified baton across his temple. Sparks flew. Sinestro reeled more from surprise than pain, but recovered quickly.
"Impressive," he sneered. "For a corpse."
Sinestro's retaliation was monstrous.
A massive construct, a spiked mace the size of a small car, descended. Batman rolled aside, barely avoiding decapitation. The floor buckled and cracked beneath the impact, shockwaves rattling the structure.
Batman lunged again, detonating a cluster of explosives against Sinestro's shield at point-blank range. The explosion flung them both backward, Batman skidding across the floor, armor smoldering.
His mouth tasted of copper. His vision dimmed at the edges.
Still, he rose.
Blood dripped from a gash above his eye, running down his cheek in rivulets. His body screamed for rest. His mind screamed defiance.
Sinestro hovered above him, ring shining like a malevolent sun.
"You don't know when to die, do you, Batman?" he said, almost admiring.
Batman spat blood at Sinestro's feet.
"No," he rasped. "I know exactly when. Not today."
With a snarl, Sinestro conjured a dozen spears of energy and hurled them at once.
Batman sprinted forward into the storm, weaving between death, every movement fueled by sheer, bloody-minded willpower. He wasn't aiming to win.
He was aiming to survive.
And maybe just maybe make Sinestro bleed.
Batman stumbled, finally collapsing to one knee, body trembling. Sinestro floated closer, arrogance dripping from every movement.
"It's over," Sinestro mocked, lowering his guard. "Die with some dignity."
Batman's gloved hand slipped to his belt, fumbling weakly. A desperate, broken gesture, or so it seemed.
Sinestro leaned closer to savor his triumph.
That was his mistake.
With a sudden surge of brutal speed, Batman slapped a high-frequency sonic device no bigger than a coin against the side of Sinestro's head.
There was a sharp click, then a deafening shriek that only Sinestro could hear.
Sinestro screamed, a raw, feral sound. He clutched his ears as blood streamed from them, his ring flickering violently.
The constructs collapsed into wisps of yellow mist. Sinestro staggered back, his body convulsing.
Batman rose, grimacing through his own pain, and delivered a savage uppercut that sent Sinestro crashing to the floor, unconscious.
The Watchtower shuddered around them, emergency klaxons still blaring, but Batman stood victorious, barely.
Breathing raggedly, he stared down at the broken Yellow Lantern.
"You're right," Batman whispered through bloodied lips. "I'm just a man. But that's all it takes."
And then he turned only to crash into the floor, the pain finally having caught up with him as his body shutdown for rest.