He'd never truly be free from the cravings, but at least now he'd found a means to channel all that pain into something productive... something worthwhile.
He'd returned to Santa Prisca broken and desperate, still reeling from his run-in with Batman in Arkham City. He was searching for solace, a fresh start, a means of making the nightmare stop.
When he arrived in the slums of his homeland and found a young boy bleeding out from a gunshot wound in the street, mother wailing by his side. Bane realised what had really drawn him back here.
Beneath the veneer of luxury resorts and spas, Santa Prisca was a hotbed of corruption, ruled by vicious cartels, drug lords armed up on Venom, embroiled in a bloody turf war that had claimed countless innocent lives.
Bane had started from the bottom and worked his way up. Now, as the sun bled out over the horizon, he admired the fruits of his labour: twelve severed head lined up on the beach in various states of decay - the twelve most powerful drug lords on the island.
His work was almost done. Just one target remained - Peña Dura, the stone fortress in which he'd been born, raised, and forever corrupted.
It was time to tear it all down.
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