admin forceauthor true

The world froze.

He was in the sub-basement of the abandoned Solomon Wayne Courthouse. Rain, rendered in perfect, crystalline Unreal Engine 3 droplets, streaked down his cowl. He could smell the mildew. He could hear the distant, manic laugh of the Joker echoing through the steel corridors. But he wasn't there . Not really.

But for the first time in eight years, Bruce Wayne smiled.

The Joker raised a hand. Behind him, the entire skybox—the fake moon, the fake stars, the fake clouds—began to fracture. Polygons tore away, revealing the raw, grey void of un-textured space.

Bruce felt the warning. flashed again, but this time, it was recursive. The error was calling itself. The stack was overflowing. If the simulation crashed while his consciousness was still linked, the neuro-feedback would fry his prefrontal cortex.