No time for treatment.

Not now.

I gave him exactly what he wanted.

[Surrounded by henchmen armed with armor-piercing rounds. It's a frightened, foolish confidence that takes them. They'll never learn.]

[Heat warped that metal days ago. The rounds don't leave the chamber. Fear sinks in; crushes that confidence down.]

My turn.

Now, who wants to talk, and who wants to never talk again?

Peaceful night.

Can't take it for granted.

Peace doesn't last; the prepared do.

He's wrong. It's been a war since day one.

Hn.

Jim Gordon once asked me, "why did you have to choose an enemy as old as time and bigger than all of us?"

Figured I could take him.

He’s wrong. It’s not a war. We lead by example, show the world there’s always a light.

Contemplating mortality with a god.

["No manners on Krypton, Master Wayne?"]

[Like an omen; a calling, the signal brings the night to life, illuminates the city below.] Rest. Good one, Clark.

Not today.

"I have prepared the Bentley, Sir, should you wish to visit the cemetery today."