Jigsaw in dc comics

**Chapter 6: The Reckoning**

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*The city of Gotham had never felt more suffocating. The rain still fell, relentless and cold, but it was no longer a cleansing force. It was an omen—an eternal reminder that Gotham's darkness was never far behind. Batman stood at the edge of a building, overlooking the city that had shaped him, that had become his obsession. The game wasn't over. And neither was the price he would have to pay.*

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### **The Weight of Choices**

The aftermath of the warehouse had been brutal, but Batman hadn't allowed himself time to reflect. He couldn't. Not while Jigsaw was still out there, playing his games. Gordon had been freed, but the cost of that decision—of the choice he had made—lingered heavily in Batman's chest. He had *almost* crossed the line. Almost. But the guilt, the doubt, it was already there. Had he made the right call? Or had he simply postponed the inevitable?

It was the following morning when he received another message. This time, it wasn't a video. It was a voice recording—Jigsaw's voice, calm and cold.

*"Congratulations, Batman. You've proven your unwillingness to kill, but your moral high ground comes at a price. Your failure to act when necessary has consequences. Let's see how long you can hold onto your convictions when everything you believe in is put to the test."*

The words gnawed at Batman's resolve. He was no longer sure if Jigsaw was testing his beliefs or *forcing* him to question them. Every step forward seemed to pull him deeper into a maze he could no longer control.

Alfred had noticed the change in him, though he said little. It was in the way Batman's shoulders slumped when he returned to the Batcave, the shadow in his eyes when he glanced in the mirror. The weight of Gotham had always been heavy, but now it was different. It was *personal*.

"Master Wayne," Alfred said gently one evening, "perhaps it's time for you to rest. You've been at this for days without pause. Your mind is a weapon, but even the sharpest blade can dull with overuse."

Batman didn't respond at first. He wasn't tired. He was... lost. The path ahead had become murky, and every turn felt like a potential trap. But the one thing he knew for sure was that Jigsaw's game wasn't just about Gotham—it was about Batman himself. And that made it *personal*.

"I can't stop now," Batman finally muttered, his voice hoarse. "I can't let him win."

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### **The Descent**

The next message came hours later, this time with a new challenge: **A hostage situation** at Gotham's most prestigious hospital. The captives weren't ordinary citizens—they were those who had once stood as pillars of the city: former district attorneys, judges, and law enforcement officials. People Batman had worked with, people whose judgment he had trusted.

And they were all trapped, surrounded by explosives, each with a collar strapped to their necks—collars that would detonate if their lives were not "justified" in the eyes of Jigsaw.

The twisted challenge was clear: *These people were all complicit in Gotham's corruption, whether they had directly participated or simply turned a blind eye. They had all made choices, some of which had caused harm to others. The game was asking—who would live, and who would die?*

Batman arrived at the scene, surveying the building from the rooftop. The hospital was surrounded by barricades, and there was no clear path in. Jigsaw's design was intricate—there were cameras in every hallway, and his voice echoed through hidden speakers, guiding the participants to their fate.

*"Welcome, Batman. You've come to play again. But you must make a choice. The lives of these people rest in your hands. You are their judge. You are their jury. Will you save them, or will you let them pay for their sins?"*

The voice echoed, taunting Batman, pushing him to confront his own sense of justice. He could feel the weight of his decisions pressing down on him—every person in the room had a dark past, a connection to Gotham's broken system. Some had been complicit in the very crimes Batman had fought against.

But they were people. They were still human.

Batman had always known the stakes. He had always been willing to put himself at risk to save others. But this was different. This time, the people weren't faceless criminals. They were people he had worked with, people whose fates were now intertwined with his own.

As he worked through the building, disarming traps and rescuing the captives, Batman was faced with an agonizing dilemma: *What if he couldn't save them all?* What if he had to make a choice? *One life for another?* Was that what Jigsaw wanted? To force Batman into the ultimate test of his own morality?

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### **Unraveling the Truth**

As Batman reached the final room, where the last group of captives was held, Jigsaw's final voice message played, chilling in its clarity:

*"Batman, you think you understand justice. But you only understand the rules of the game. The truth is, there are no winners here. There is only one certainty: You will either sacrifice your ideals... or sacrifice yourself."*

With only seconds remaining, Batman was faced with a choice. In front of him stood a panel of switches. Each switch corresponded to a life. There was no time to analyze. No time to deliberate. He could either pull the lever that would release the captives, or he could choose to save himself—shutting down the system but sacrificing those who had already been chosen.

The faces of the captives stared back at him, filled with fear, guilt, and uncertainty. Each of them was a symbol of Gotham's corruption—each a reminder of why Batman fought. But *could* he save them all? *Should* he save them all?

Time ran out.

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### **The Breaking Point**

Seconds before the explosion, Batman made his choice. He rushed to the switches, trying to disarm the system in time. He worked furiously, desperate, but the seconds slipped away like sand in an hourglass.

The room exploded in a blinding flash of light.

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### **The Shattered Hero**

When Batman regained consciousness, he was surrounded by smoke and debris. His body ached, but the real pain—the real wound—was inside. The captives had been freed, but at what cost? The explosion had torn apart parts of the hospital, collapsing walls and shattering windows. Several of the captives were dead. The ones that remained were injured, their lives hanging by a thread.

He had failed.

Jigsaw had orchestrated a perfect trap—a trap designed not only to break Batman's body but to destroy his spirit. In his quest to save Gotham, Batman had lost something even more important: his own sense of certainty.

Alfred arrived, his face filled with quiet concern. "Master Wayne, we need to talk."

Batman said nothing, his eyes hollow, staring at the chaos around him. He had saved some lives—but had it been enough? Had it been the right choice?

Jigsaw's voice echoed in his mind, even as the sirens of Gotham's emergency vehicles screamed in the distance:

*"You've made your choice, Batman. Now live with it."*

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**To Be Continued...**