All language subtitles for batman-the-doom-that-came-to-gotham-2023-1080p-webrip-ddp5-1-x264-skizoid

Saint Bay, do you copy?

Come in, Saint Bay.

Argo to Saint Bay station.

Argo to Saint Bay station.
Come in, Saint Bay.

This is Saint Bay station. Come in, Argo.

This is Kai Li Cain
from the Wayne expedition.

We've found the Cobblepot base camp...

or what's left of it.

Mr. Wayne is with Grayson and Tawde
looking for survivors.

Dick, Sanjay, report.

It's bad, sir. Nothing but dead bodies.

Yeah. Heaps of 'em.

We found the ship's manifest, sir.

We're still two short.
Someone named Grendon,

and then Cobblepot himself.

Not to go grummy, Mr. Wayne,

but the odds of anyone
surviving out here...

We keep looking.

Professor Cobblepot's journal?

'Expedition day three.

Men are on edge.

The dogs will still not leave the ship.

It's this place.

They fear it.

And I must confess...

I don't blame them.

Day seven...

Things are worse.

Could not calm the dogs.

Forced to kill them all.

Grendon has disappeared.

Has gone mad, I fear.

And the others, they won't speak.

They refuse to even move.

Day ten, just me now.

When I close my eyes...

I hear it calling.

From the ice.'

Cobblepot?

'It tells me it's coming.'

Professor Cobblepot! Oswald!

'It tells me...

I have come home.'

Cobblepot?

Cobblepot is no more.

He's something else now.

He's become
what he was always meant to be.

I take it you're Grendon.

Was Grendon. Once.

Now I'm chosen by him

to be his messenger to the world.

I see. And who is 'him', exactly?

Him is he who bays and slavers
forever outside time and space,

who shambled down out of the stars

when Earth new and spawned abominations
in the seas and blights upon the land.

Woe to man when he comes again.

To gaze upon his form
is to invite madness.

That is why, in order to serve him,
I chose to make...

adjustments.

You're gonna come with me.

Now!

No. No!

I'm not finished yet.

Hark...

The lurker is on the threshold.

And behold...

It...

Is...

Coming.

Shore party to Argo.

This is Argo. Go ahead.

Kai Li, ready the explosives.

Uh, did you say explosives?

I mean, sure, Mr. Wayne. How many?

All of them.

Whoo! Hot dog!

Nothing'll get into or out of that cave
ever again.

You sure sealing it off was wise?

The scientific value of a prehistoric
creature like the one you described...

Is far less than the danger it posed.

That thing has infected
the surrounding wildlife here

with some sort of mutational agent.

A virus that must've lain dormant
for millennia.

And it's quite possible,

it infected some of
the Cobblepot party as well.

So, whatever that creature was, Dick,

it was meant to stay buried.

Sir, what about Cobblepot?

Did you ever find him?

Cobblepot's gone.

Heavens, what is that ghastly smell?

That would be your friend, Grendon.

Once we warmed him up,
he started to spoil.

Spoil?

The old palooka's dead as a donkey.

Right, Dicky?

The tissue samples I took from him
appear to be dead,

- but I'm sure there's a logical...
- Logical explanation.

You know, ace, you're starting to sound
more like the big cheese every day.

May I ask where this rather loquacious
cadaver is, presently?

Until Dick can whip up something
to keep the body frozen,

Mr. Wayne had us put him on ice.

He instructed me to put Mr. Grendon
in the meat freezer, Alfred.

I do so look forward to fetching
this evening's roast.

'Though I am strayed,

my Testament shall remain in Gotham.

Forever in my keep.'

Master Bruce, about this Grendon.

- Perhaps it's time for another...
- Gotham is in danger.

You gleaned that
from Cobblepot's journal, sir?

I'm sure of it now.

But from what you told me,

the professor was not of sound mind.

Believe me, Alfred,
I took that into consideration.

Unhinged rantings aside, his journal
confirms much of what I've uncovered

about the existence of an ancient cult.

And if any of what he writes is true,

it's a cult that has long ties to Gotham.

Then should I take this to mean...

It's been 20 years since we left, Alfred.

Twenty years preparing.

And now...

It's time.

We're going home.

How long you figure we'll be in Gotham?

We're here for good, kid.

Horsefeathers!

In the two years I've been with you

we haven't stayed in any city
for more than a few weeks.

Come to think of it...

I've never stayed in any city
for more than a few weeks.

I've been traveling with Bruce
coming on a decade now, Kai Li.

And it's always been about returning
to Gotham.

Okay, but returning for what?

Doom.

You return for your doom.

Nuts to you, ya rank spud.

It appears Gotham has become a bit more...

Untended than we remember it.

Let's hope
it's nothing like I remember it, Alfred.

Gotham's history
is our history, son.

Wayne family history.

The Waynes built this city, Bruce.

That makes you part of a long legacy.

What's a legacy?

It means, one day,
you'll have very big shoes to fill.

Come now, Martha.

It's more important a man learn
to stand on his own feet

before cramming them
into someone else's shoes.

Isn't that right, son?

We have brought this curse upon us!

Thomas!

Bruce, run! Just...

Grendon's secure, sir.

You sure you want us
to just leave him here?

For now.

If he was exposed to that virus...

I don't trust the Gotham Police
to use the same precautions we have.

Understood.

But I'll need one of you to stay back
and keep an eye on him.

Tough luck, Sanjay.

Damn it.

Aye aye, Cap.

And why not?

After months at sea, what's a few
more days on this fine vessel?

It'll give me a chance to cozy up
with the nutso diseased corpse.

Hear that? Just you and me now, Mr. Zero.

Lucius.

So good to see you.

You as well, son.

Nice work, Alfred.
You brought him home in one piece.

Not for his lack of trying, old friend.

How's business, Lucius?

Copacetic.

So long as the board believes

all executive directives
are coming from you, that is.

For some reason,

they just don't seem quite comfortable
taking orders from me.

Well then,

I guess you'll just have to continue
making sure that all my directives are...

Copacetic.

I plan to.

And you received my last consignment?

Like all your shipments over the years,

I had everything
situated in the wine cellar

to your precise specifications.

Thank you, Lucius.

One thing...

Wine cellar?

Let's not romanticize it.

It's a cave.

Whoa. Wow.

Swanky.

Master Bruce,

it appears word of your return
has spread, sir.

Oliver Queen has invited you
for dinner and drinks.

I shall assume
he intends an emphasis on the latter.

Master Bruce?

Something isn't right.

Claw marks?

It's some sort of animal attack.

- A bear, maybe?
- No.

The wounds are made bottom up.

Ursine claws are incapable
of that kind of movement.

This bruise...

- Strangulation.
- Means whatever did this had thumbs.

Obviously, he was killed elsewhere
and brought here.

But why?

I am...

Langstrom.

Bruce, what is it?

Did you...

Ah. Nevermind.

Should we notify the police?

Yes.

But, not yet.

I'll handle it.

Are you sure
you're up for dinner, sir?

This house
has been sealed for 20 years

and the corpse downstairs
isn't doing the fustiness any favors.

At the very least,
we could stand the fresh air.

Besides, I haven't seen
Oliver since we ran into each other in...

Dushanbe.

My name is Blood.

You do not want to know me or what I am.

Suffice it to say,

what is invisible to most
is visible to me.

Is that so?

June 26th, 1908.

You witnessed your parents' murder.

In the ensuing years,
you set upon the world,

absorbing all forms of criminology,
psychology, martial art...

Whatever skills you deemed necessary
to one day avenge your parents' deaths

and become this city's savior.

The Bat.

Do you have a point, Mr. Blood?

Your homecoming has set certain wheels
in motion, Bruce Wayne.

And though I know much,

I'm only allowed
to tell you these things three.

One.

You must seek out two spirits.

Spirits?

One wrapped in bats, the other in flames.

Two.

To prevail in this, Bruce Wayne must die

and through death become himself.

Three.

Before it can be saved,

Gotham...

must be burned to the ground.

Listen, I'm not sure what your game is,

but I'm not big on ghost stories.

Your dubiety will be your undoing.

You wanna talk undoing?

You'll find no enemy here,
my thickheaded friend.

Rest assured when you face your foe,

you'll see me again.

I've readied the car for...

dinner.

And then Bruce says to the man,
'Sorry constable, it was dog fur.'

That's not quite how it went, Ollie.

Oh, come on, Brucey, you gotta embellish.

It's called showmanship. Right, Kelley?

It's Kai Li.

Attagirl.

Oh. I hear you ran into one
of Gotham's finest down south.

Easy, fellas.

Old Cobblepot was mad as a march hare
well before his expedition.

So, Mr. Queen,
I notice you're into hunting.

It's a passion that's taken me
around the world.

Not a matter of flora nor fauna alive,
that can best Oliver Queen.

You do know flora are plants, right?

Of course.

And I stand by my assertion.

For what plant could...

Oh, bully! My surprise guest.

One of Bruce and my oldest chums

and the man who will single-handedly
clean the fetid streets of our lost city,

I give you Gotham's future mayor,
Harvey Dent.

Let's not count chickens, Ollie.

Election's not for four days and...

I'll be...

Bruce Wayne.

Look at you, kid.

Good to see you, Harvey.
It's been too long.

And look at us three. Together again.

So...

You gonna offer me a drink,

or not?

Wayne residence.

Mr. Wayne is out for the evening.

Is there a message I could...

So then, Harv,
I look this dewdropper square in his eyes.

And I say, 'Sorry constable,

it was duck fur.'

Tell me something, Harv.

Does the name 'Langstrom'
mean anything to you?

Professor Kirk Langstrom?

The Batman of crime alley?

He's loonier than Cobblepot.

Come to think of it,

there has been an uptick
in crackpots lately,

which is saying something.

Gotham's always had more
than our fair share of wingnuts.

Langstrom is a biologist
at the university.

A chiropterologist, actually.

Of late,
he's rather infamously developed an

unhealthy obsession with the bats
he studies.

Unhealthy how?

He claims to be one.

Would you have an address for him?

Somewhere in Robin's Row.
I'll call the office.

Speaking of the office, gentlemen,

I have to report to it in six hours.

You'll have to show me how to do
that coin trick next time, Mr. Dent.

Sorry, sport.

Magicians don't spill.

We'd best retire as well.

- Say, Ollie...
- Huh?

Since Alfred's still airing out the house,

would you mind putting us up
for the night?

Mind? I'll ring for more sherry.

Keep an eye on Oliver.

I'm beginning to think
Sanjay drew the lucky straw.

First, I thought I failed.

But I feel the power of his cold gift
inside me.

Shut your yap...

Ow!

Just dummy up, would ya?

Everybody!

Ida

Sweet as apple cider

Sweeter than all I know

Come out

In the silvery moonlight...

Where's Bruce?

If he's smart, back in Antarctica.

Low, low, low, low, low

Everybody!

Landlady said
it sounded like a murder.

I don't see no bodies.

You look for bodies, junior.

Screwballs like Langstrom,

always keep some dough squirreled away.

Hurry up and find it, will ya?
Before Gordon gets back...

Jumped up jimminy!

Find what you were looking for?

Ventilate this son of a bitch.

Langstrom...

The hell were you into?

Okay, boys. Let's wrap the...

What the...

Wayne residence.

As I've stated thrice already,
Ms. Barbara,

Mr. Wayne is out for the evening.

Now, I will certainly deliver...

'If you're reading this,

I, Dr. Kirk Langstrom, am dead.

Thankfully.

For a great doom is coming to this world.

Though you will think me mad,
believe me, if you can.

The bats speak to me.

They see beyond what man dare fathom.

And they tell me

of a growing horror.

A thing, crouching,
at the doorstep of our reality.

And it is hungry for us.

And it wants our world.

For centuries, acolytes of this evil,
the 'Cult of Ghul'

have endeavored to unlock the very door
that keeps the thing from our reality.

And now, their time

is nigh.

Yet, there is still a single hope.

They require a book,

The Testament of Ghul.

For only with the knowledge
contained in its pages

may they open that door.

The Testament must be kept from them,
at all costs.'

Testament.

'My Testament shall remain in Gotham.

Forever in my keep.'

Cobblepot had it.

University repository.
Professor Manfurd speaking.

Do you have keep
of Professor Cobblepot's records?

While he's on sabbatical, yes.
Who is this, please?

The Testament of Ghul...

I need it.

Testament of...

No, I am not familiar with such a text.

Of course,
this is not a lending library, sir.

This is the university repository

restricted to the public, if you...

Cobblepot ordered me to destroy you.

Oh, but even if I could, I would not.

I, for one, am so very glad at that.

Talia? But how?

You know who I am.

Good.

Please, don't kill me!

We'll leave that business to...

Daitya.

No!

The Testament. Now!

No.

Do as you will, Daitya.

What the...

Etrigan.

You were told you know not what you face.

Yet only you can stop it,
so leave this place.

My sacrifice is made
so you might end this curse.

Alas, it'd be for naught
should the book remain hers!

Let's try this again.

The book. Now.

Do not think your costume
can frighten me, Bat.

I am well acquainted with real matter
of demon, Djinn and devil.

Whatever the Cult of Ghul is planning,
it ends here.

The Cult of Ghul perished centuries ago.

I am its last...

For now.

After leaving you that surprise
in your study,

I was certain, you'd realize

I was not one to be trifled with.

You knew I'd lead you to The Testament.

You killed Langstrom.

You have no clue
the power this book possesses.

I know those who seek it
mean to do this city harm.

Quite the contrary.

We mean to give this city purpose
and honor the damnation which bore it.

You, on the other hand,

we mean to do harm.

It can't be.

Another monster.

You don't go 812 years

without making your share
of interesting friends.

The bat still lives.

Mm. No matter.

He poses no serious threat to us.

Besides, you are needed
for another errand.

The key has been delivered to the harbor.

Retrieve it.

To think, in our letters to each other,

I used to rib Bruce for collecting
a stray ragamuffin at every port.

But you two...

You two are on the level.

Of course, you can do no better
than Bruce Wayne.

Bruce.

I owe the man.

Lord, I owe him
more than he could possibly know.

I'm so sorry, Brucey...

So sorry.

All right, easy there.

I'm sure everything is fine, sir.

Mr. Wayne isn't one to hold a grudge
against a good man.

Come on, let's get some sleep.

Am I though? A good man?

Never forget,

the sins of the father
are heaped upon the son.

Thanks, Mr. Queen. Good to know.

Alfred.

Master Bruce.

What's happened?

Not sure. Yet.

Is that sulfur?

You're wounded. I have to clean...

Not yet. I have to analyze this substance.

For when I run into
the mutated creature again.

Mutated creature?

Wait, where are you off to?

The cave. We have work to do.

It's a wine cellar, Master Bruce.

We're not Neanderthals

Boys...

It is still June, isn't it?

Hold up, kid. Ship's off limits.

Heya, boys.

Oliver Queen.

What are you doing here?

Expecting another dozen cases
of your bootleg hooch, are we?

And flout the prohibition laws

that help keep Gotham the fine
and chaste city we've all come to love?

Why, Jimmy Gordon, you slay me!

Tell you what though,

if I do happen upon a case,
I'll let you watch me polish it off.

At least then, you and your boys can see

what getting to the bottom
of a case actually looks like.

Get off it, Queen! Now listen, son...

Go, go!

Sanjay?

Sanjay?

Jay?

Sanjay...

I'd wise up if I were you, Jimmy.

The election's in three days.

If all goes pepper, my best chum,
Harvey Dent, will be your boss.

Think about the future...

Mercy.

Come on. Let me through.

Chief wants us to keep you...

No!

- No! No, it's okay!
- No!

- No!
- It's okay.

No! No!

I've got you. I've got you. I know.

I know. I know, let it out.

It's okay, let it out.

What did this?

I don't know, Kai Li.

But by the Lord's hand...

they will pay.

Millennia ago,

you descended upon these wicked grounds
to learn secrets unholy.

Now, I shall use those very secrets
to give you life again.

Then, together, we will usher
Iog-Sotha into this reality!

Daitya!

You come in good time.

Etrigan...

Indeed.

I furnished a demon to take your place
in your bottle prison, Djinn.

Now, you must honor your end
of our bargain before returning to Hell.

Scorch this cursed ground
with your wretched hellfire.

Come forth!

My daughter...

He has risen.

Ra's al Ghul has risen!

There are miles
of tunnel below this city.

Talia is down here somewhere.

The book you requested, sir.

I would certainly never count myself
among the 'believers', Master Bruce.

But I have seen enough in my time
to at least be wary of the dark arts.

I appreciate the concern,
but we don't have time for superstitions.

I only mean,

perhaps it would be wise
to not discount such things out of hand.

I'll admit a lot of what I've seen
seems to defy logic.

But I assure you

there's a rational explanation
behind all of it.

What's this?

'The mausoleum of the serpent?'

'Before humans, there were serpents.

Masters of an ancient black magic.

In what would be 2000 BC,
a dark priest, Ra's al Ghul,

uncovered the ruins
of their unholy grounds.

Using necromantic arts,
he wrested their secrets from them...

The nature of the cosmos was his to wield.

Yet, Ra's' one true desire
was to serve his master...

Iog-Sotha.

And to bring his dark
outer God into our reality.'

Outer gods?

All myth, Alfred.

Then of what use is this to us?

If you look
at any myth hard enough,

you'll find the remnants
of fact underneath.

Aklo.

I'm sorry, sir...

Aklo?

The tick marks in that etching.

It's an ancient system of writing...

Aklo.

They're not ticks.

They're coordinates.

Facts.

Is it possible?

This mausoleum is located
somewhere beneath Gotham?

I'm going to find out.

Check to see if our compound is ready.

For a million, million years,
Iog-Sotha has longed for this planet.

He howls and scrapes
at a door he can never open.

Now, we shall descend
into the unholy chamber of the serpents

and invoke the ceremony
that will show us this door.

You can't open a door
without a key.

Oh, heavens, not again.

Wayne residence and I assure you,
Mr. Wayne is still...

Oh. Chief Gordon. My apologies, sir.

I thought it was your...

I thought it was a wrong number.

My Lord...

Yes, of course.

If Mr. Queen could look after Kai Li
for the time being,

it would be most appreciated.

And the moment he returns, I...

I shall inform Mr. Wayne.

O thou Gog,

O thou Gog,

O Kore... O Persephone...

O Amaga, Iog-Sotha,

Darkness out of time,

show us your door

so that we may partake

in this holy purpose and finally...

What manner of insolent worm is this?

Continue the incantation, Father.

We will deal with the interloper.

You destroyed him.

What magic is this?

Not magic.

Chlorine concentrate.

Very well.

My, you are a quick study.

I suppose
I'll have to dispose of you intimately.

Etrigan...

That's enough, Ra's.

Whoever you really are
and whatever your game is,

it's over.

Indeed,

it is over...

Over for you.

The ritual is complete.

Reptiles once ruled this earth.

And now, they return with a plague
that will lead us to the door.

To Iog-Sotha!

Extra, extra! Gotham knee-deep in lizards!

Thank you. Thank you.

When elected, this infestation
will be my first priority.

I refuse to let this be another scar
on the face of our proud, beautiful city.

Yes, Harvey!

I say enough!

The thing is coming.

Today we will only show you...

Show you the shape of the thing.

For to gaze upon it

is to invite madness!

And though your mind may force itself
to forget what it sees,

the mark of madness it leaves behind

is yours for eternity.

The only thing that can stop it
is the Bat.

The only thing that can stop it...

is you!

I... remember.

Father?

And this just in, it's official,

Harvey Dent is our next mayor!

And in light of the sudden and miraculous
disappearance of the still-inexplicable

reptile infestation, one has to believe
that his victory is a sign

that Harvey Dent is, indeed,
our city's gateway to hope.

We've endured so much together.

As Mayor, I promise
this will be a shining new era for Gotham.

Iog-Sotha has spoken.

Dent is the door.

Then all that remains
is to retrieve the key.

- Masters, I told you. I know of no key.
- Imbecile.

You found Yib Nogeroth,
son of Iog-Sotha, in the ice.

Though he sleeps,
he carried out his father's will...

and planted his seed in you.

Of course, the gift within me.

This is the key!

Tell me, how may I give...

Iog-Sotha,

make this gift a new vessel.

The agent of your delivery.

Dent.

Doom...

Doom...

The great doom is coming.
It's at the doorstep.

He hasn't moved from this spot,

nor so much as spoken to me
since I found him.

Not even after you told him
about misters Tawde and Grayson?

Particularly after, I'm afraid.

Alfred,

it's time to call Hugo.

The staff at Arkham can help.

Congrats, Mr. Mayor!

Thanks, Pete. But I only just got the job.

Now, time to see if I can deliver.

I'm sure you will.

The people have every faith in you.

Thank you, ma'am.

I won't let you down.

You know, kiddo, I had three
locks put on that door for a reason.

Sorry, I guess curiosity.

What the...

Mr. Queen?

What is all this?

Very soon,
a great evil will befall Gotham.

It's up to me to defeat it.

Uh-huh.

I see.

And, uh, how's that?

Have you forgotten?

'The sins of the Father
are heaped upon the son.'

No man is guilty
of more sin than my father.

As impossible as it seems,
Henry Queen was over 300 years old.

As it goes,
the cur made a pact with the devil.

Over time it drove him mad.

By the end,

there was no vile deed
the wretched bastard would refuse.

Including the cold-blooded murder

of Thomas and Martha Wayne.

He told me of this unholy act
perpetrated centuries ago.

An act so wicked, so foul,
it stirred this thing

that would one day destroy Gotham.

So, in turn, I vowed to undo
each of those sins.

I set about preparing to face
this impending doom he warned of.

Testing myself against deadly beasts.

Collecting all manner of holy weapons.

Like these four arrows.

Stained with the very blood
of St. Sebastian himself.

Uh, listen, Mr. Queen, sir...

You should go.

This thing knows who I am.

Surely, it will come for me.

Though I've enjoyed your company,

it's best you not be here when it does.

The door...

The doorway to our reality. Where?

How is it you do not yet realize?

Though you once feared them,

only the bats know the way to salvation.

You must accept as I have.

Only they will tell...

Damn it!

We're running out of time!

Why don't you tell me what the bats say!

You said they speak to you, right?

They surround you.

You...

The spirit wrapped in bats.

Mr. Wayne.

It's Oliver. I think he's...

Lost his mind.

Alfred told me to leave you alone,
because you weren't well. But...

Golly, did he hold out cheap.

Listen, sir. I don't understand
what's going on,

but I can tell it's bad.

Real bad.

And whatever it is...

Dick and Sanjay...

Now, something's wrong with Oliver.

He's dressed as a knight and going on
and on about a 'doom' that is coming.

Poison ivy, Mayor Dent.

Oh. Come now.

I haven't been out of the city in months,
Dr. West.

Well, then, it's stress.

You have had a demanding week, Harv.

Now, find some time to relax. And...

For Pete's sake, man! Don't scratch it!

It'll just get infected.

Here.

Use this.

Lord, grant me the strength
to destroy the thing that is coming.

Oh. Hello.

Why, we were just talking about you.

Thank goodness!

If I'd killed you that easily,
there'd have been no sport.

Bruce?

Nice outfit.

You, too.

Showmanship.

You look awful.

Easy, kid.

At this point,

they're all that's holding me together.

But good news...

And without using
any of St. Sebastian's arrows.

Told you no fauna could best me.

Kai Li.

Give us a minute.

I thought I could stop it, Bruce.

This thing...

Thought I was ready,
but nothing could prepare...

I know, Oliver. More than you realize.

Bruce...

Something I must confess...

It's weighed on me for years.

Old friend, my father...

I'm so sorry, Bruce, my father, he...

Did what he did.

You did nothing but live as a good man.

That's all that matters.

I hope you're right, Brucey...

For both our sake.

The bloodline can never escape the stain.

The sins of the father.

Whoever you are, please,

kill me.

Do not despair.

The end is near.

But you have a little more to do.

It's not your fault, Mr. Wayne.

Talking dead folks, reptile plagues,
plant monsters, it's not...

natural.

No one could have seen this coming.

I should have.

The signs were there.

I refused to heed them,

because they didn't align
with what I deemed to be rational.

- This thing, it is coming, huh?
- Soon.

And I don't know how.

But only I can stop it.

With all due respect, sir,
Oliver said the same thing.

And now he's dead.

He died trying to do what was right.

He died because he thought he owed
the world for whatever insanity his dad...

- Oliver believed the sins of the father...
- Are heaped upon the son.

Yeah. I know that verse.

But don't forget Ezekiel 18,

'The son will not share
the guilt of the father,

nor will the father share
the guilt of the son.'

My point is, you don't have to do this.

You can leave. We can leave.

Get a new ship and go anywhere else.

You don't owe this city anything.

Most people, if they see a house on fire,

would run and call for help
once they're out of harm's way.

While others, very few others,

would run right into that house

and try to save those
who are trapped inside.

The moment I found you,

my every instinct told me
which one of those two people you were.

Doom or not, Kai Li,

Gotham is a city on fire.

It needs those who are willing
to run into the inferno.

Bruce Wayne, there you are.

Was there something you wanted, Jim?

Uh, no.

Yes, actually.

First, deeply sorry about your boys.
My condolences.

I assure you my best men are on the...

I'm here on behalf of my daughter.

Barbara?

She said she's been trying to reach you.

I'm sure you've heard about her...

Accident a few years back? Yes.

Poor thing. She hasn't been the same.

Wait a minute. Barbara?

Barbara Gordon? The Oracle, right?

I read about her in Spiritualism Monthly!

Yes, I suppose Barbara has
developed something of a...

reputation in certain circles.

And she says she needs to speak to me?

Not her, exactly.

- One of her...
- Ghosts.

She said you'd know who.

Do you?

I don't.

Bruce, I realize it's an unusual request.
But it seemed...

so very urgent to my Barbara,
and it would...

- It would mean a lot to me.
- Tell her I'll see her tonight.

- Okay. But visiting hours are...
- Tonight!

Do you think the Oracle will know
how to stop this thing?

Not the Oracle,

but the spirit wrapped in flames.

It's time.

I can't let you leave.

That's not your decision.

You're not well. What's happening to you?

What needs to happen.

I can't pretend to know
exactly what I'm about to face.

But I do know that I must face it.

This is what I was meant to do.

- Bruce...
- Please, Alfred.

I haven't much time.

Very well then, Master Bruce.

If time is of the essence, as you say...

May I suggest taking the car?

You're in charge of the wine cellar now.

You're not coming back?

Goodbye...

Son.

Goodbye, Alfred.

I'm glad you accepted my invitation.

Although, I suppose, it should concern me

you're able to break into this place
so easily.

No offense,

but I'd say the greater concern
would be Arkham's ability

to keep those from breaking out.

Oh, it's not so bad in here, Bruce.

Three squares. Good company.

A complete absence of unnecessary pity
from loved ones.

Besides, if you saw as I do,

you'd take the insanity within these walls
over the true madness out there.

Perhaps you're right.

So, a bat? Huh.

Interesting creatures, aren't they?

Funny how one little winged rodent
can mean so many different things

to so many different people.

If you ask me,

it's all about their uncanny ability
to maneuver in the dark.

Like they embody a perception
of the things that can't be seen.

So, let me ask you.

What do they mean to you, Bruce?

Why a bat?

Bats inspire fear,
and criminals are superstitious and...

Cowardly lot, sure.

I figured that's what you'd say.

But is that really why?

Well, something to think about, I guess.

Okay then, down to business
and the reason you've come.

Do you know with whom you need to speak?

I wish to speak to the spirit
wrapped in flames.

But you don't know who this spirit is?

Only that it burns in hell.

And you're sure you want to do this?

It's not a question of want, Barbara.

Spirit we seek, I surrender myself.

Body and soul, come to us now.

Come to us now.

Come to us now!

Father?

It can't be.

Hello, Bruce.

What is this?

It's me, son.

And I am so, so sorry.

Believe me, I wanted to tell you this
when you were old enough.

But not like this.

Not here.

Tell me what?

I, Thomas Wayne, was born in 1585

and was among the first colonists
to venture to the new world.

I and others founded the settlement
that would one day become Gotham.

Lo, but those first years
were unforgiving.

The land penurious.
The winters, harsh, indeed.

We were dying.

Until, one among us, Oswald Cobblepot
discovered what was buried

under the earth beneath our land.

Myself, Bartly Langstrom, and Henry Queen

followed Cobblepot into an ungodly place.

He showed us the ancient book
he'd found there.

A book steeped in malevolence.

Call it despair, call it desperation,
call it, perhaps, even greed,

but we four read from this book

and performed its ceremonies most vile.

Shame of which would last eons.

But, alas, our settlement had been saved.

Flourished, even.

And not only did the four of us
prosper beyond our wildest dreams,

we'd been gifted apparent life eternal.

In time, it was nearly as if
we'd forgotten the events

of that despicable night ever occurred.

It, however, did not forget us.

For centuries later,

we would learn that the malevolence
we bore that fateful night awoke him.

Iog Sotha.

It was our wretchedness

that drew the thing
to the threshold of our reality.

You...

called him forth.

Knowing what we'd done, truly done,

drove Bartly Langstrom to suicide,

Oswald Cobblepot to the ends of the earth,

and Henry Queen to...

Well, worst yet, the curse lays the burden
of undoing our misdeeds

upon our children.

The sins of the father
are heaped upon the son.

Yes.

That's why Kirk Langstrom
and Oliver both...

But it's not too late, son.

You can stop this thing.

Iog Sotha has not yet entered our realm.

You must find the door
before it fully opens.

How?

By becoming what you truly are.

In coming to see me,

you've accepted a world
beyond reason and science.

But you must embrace it.

You must seek communion...

With them.

The bats.

Thank you, Barbara.

Thank you.

You have returned.

It is time for Iog-Sotha.

Only the bat can face him.

You understand what that means now, yes?

I do. At last.

Y ou are prepared for this sacrifice?

I am.

Then now, you are one of us.

Just tell me where to find the thing.

Where it began.

Harvey...

Poison Ivy, I'm told.

Considering a second opinion.

Bruce?

You take care of yourself.

Huh?

You too, Harv.

I'll see you soon.

Forgive me, boys.

Thank God.

Kick their ass, Bruce.

Iog Sotha,

I feel your power.

Yes!

I'd rather like to think
that under different circumstances,

we'd be allies...

Friends, perhaps.

My friends have a bad habit of dying.

It's just you and me now.

You fool.

This thing...

This thing
is beyond your human comprehension.

Behold.

For even to gaze upon it
is to incur madness!

I've seen it.

Do you not see?

The deed is done.

I am him.

Born of the nameless mist,

progenitor of Yib Nogeroth,

Hastur the unspeakable...

And Cthulhu himself!

Die!

For soon all that lives shall
follow thee into Hell!

Humanity shall be wiped from the earth!

What is that?

To prevail in this,

Bruce Wayne must die
and through death become himself.

The bloodline can never escape
the stain of sin...

Why a bat?

The bats know the way to salvation.

You must embrace it.

Now! You are now one of us.

You're still alive?

Not alive.

Not anymore.

What are you?

I am Batman!

Yes!

Etrigan...

Well done. The ledger is clear.

Now take your leave,
whilst I do my damage here.

You must seek out two spirits.

One wrapped in bats, the other in flames.

A price is to be paid for your dark reign

and so here for eternity
in this hell you remain!

Bruce Wayne must die,

and through death, become himself.

Before it can be truly saved,

Gotham must be burned to the ground.

Though this disaster
struck only months ago,

the Bruce Wayne memorial foundation
has already begun to rebuild.

A better Gotham is in reach.

And we'd like to dedicate this effort
to two dear friends of Mr. Wayne,

and of Gotham itself.

The honorable Harvey Dent
and Mr. Oliver Queen.

And now,

the acting head of the foundation,

Ms. Kai Li Cain.

I've not been here long,

but thanks to Bruce, I've come
to think of Gotham as home.

In many ways, my first home.

Bruce Wayne had a vision of
what Gotham could be.

An ideal.

I promise to do
everything within my power,

and beyond my power,

to bring about the realization
of Bruce Wayne's dream

for a new Gotham City.

Speaking of Bruce,

for those of you who knew and loved him,

take comfort in this final thought.

He wasn't always the most forthcoming man,

but you could
always be sure of two things.

He would do anything
for those that he loved,

and he was stubborn as hell.

I know Bruce is watching over us.

And something tells me that if we,

the people and city that he held so dear,
ever needed him,

really needed him,

not even death itself could keep him away.