"The God Prometheus created man...Molded from Clay"
[Clayface]
Something was watching Terry in the shadows, something hidden in the darkness above the entire scene. Clayface with his new body, his new hatred. Batman had killed him in Arkham city, years ago and now here he was, so was The Joker. The clown had promised him many things and for his sake, Clayface had found himself drug down into the sewers beneath the city with electricity ripping through his form. How long had it taken to reform himself from a single molecule? Years perhaps. It would've been so easy to drop a steady tendril around Batman's neck from he laid hiding and to drag him up into the suffocating depths of his own body. Sliding silently in his flattened state along the dark ceiling, Clayface was watching them all with a hundred different eyes. The Batman would suffer first, then the clown. The rest, well, whoever got in his way would be the ones to pay for the time he had to wait.
Musing the thoughts of their slow deaths to himself, Clayface turned upward and his form passed through the grate of the vent without a sign of resistance. There were things he would wish to get out of the way first, to bring down the Bat...One needed allies. There was one that he knew would provide an interesting edge to the final confrontation. Scarecrow.