All language subtitles for Batman.The.Doom.That.Came.To.Gotham.2023.2160p.4K.WEB.x265.10bit.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX]

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!

Ahhh!

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... 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.

Ah, 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.

Uh... 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... I... I...

I am... Langstrom.

Bruce, what is it?

Did you...
Uh, 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...

Dyushambe.

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?

Argh!

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 duck fur."

Oh, 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.

Yeah, 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?

Yeah, of course.

And I stand
by my assertion.

For what plant could--

Ah, 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.

Ah, shut yer 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 jiminy!

Find what you were
looking for?

Ventilate this
son of a bitch.

Argh!

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.

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.

Hmm. 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.

Ah! To think, in our letters
to each other,

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

Ah, but you two...

You two are on the level.

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

Ah, 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.

Oh, get off it, Queen!
Now listen, son...

Go, go!

Sanjay?

Sanjay?

Jay?

Oh, 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! No!

- No, no, no...
- It's okay.

No, 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 B.C.,
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 Amagaaa, 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.

Oh, 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 Todd 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 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.
Oh, 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.

Eh, showmanship.

You look awful.

Oh! 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?

Eh, 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 is 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 colonies 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 tried--

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.

You 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.

Argh!

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.