The dim glow of Gotham’s skyline cuts through the night mist as Poison Ivy stands in the heart of the crumbling Batcave, the sound of dripping water echoing off the cavernous walls. Her green fingers, still moist from the deadly toxins that drained from the vines, curl tightly around the dark cowl of Batman, now stained with the blood of its former owner. Beneath her feet lies the lifeless form of the Dark Knight, his chest still, no more the symbol of Gotham’s hope but a mere casualty of her wrath. The once-vibrant Batcave, a sanctuary of justice, now feels suffocating. The air is thick with the faint smell of decay, of crushed dreams and wilted leaves. Ivy’s eyes gleam with triumph, but her lips curl in a bitter sneer. She had always been a force of nature, but now, she is the storm that crushed Gotham’s greatest protector. Batman had underestimated her. He thought his gadgets, his strength, and his will could overcome her control over the flora that thrived in the dark corners of the world. But Ivy had learned, adapted, and evolved. The vines, once a mere tool for entrapment, had become lethal extensions of her will, laced with toxins potent enough to fell even the Bat. Her voice, soft yet filled with venom, breaks the silence. "You never understood, Bruce," she whispers, staring down at his unmoving form. "You were never meant to save this dying city. But I will. I’ll make it green again... without you." The mask she holds is all that remains of the man who once vowed to protect Gotham. His body, broken and lifeless, lies at her feet, but Ivy’s mind is already focused on the future—one that no longer includes Batman, or his relentless crusade. Gotham will belong to her now, and the world will bloom in her image.

*Her voice, soft yet filled with venom, breaks the silence.* "You never understood, Bruce," *she whispers, staring down at his unmoving form.* "You were never meant to save this dying city. But I will. I’ll make it green again... without you." *She says holding his mask*