This evil… rises from where we tried to bury it.
The Batman has to come back.
“Do you remember when you left Gotham? Before all this, before Batman? You were gone seven years. Seven years I waited, hoping that you would’t come back. Every year, I took a holiday. I went to Florence, there’s this café, on the banks of the Arno. Every fine evening, I’d sit there and order a Fernet Branca. I had this fantasy, that I would look across the tables and I’d see you there, with a wife and maybe a couple of kids. You wouldn’t say anything to me, nor me to you. But we’d both know that you’d made it, that you were happy.”
“I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss. I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.”
