Matt could appreciate the symmetry, the same way he could appreciate the bullshit about justice and the right eyes and all of it. He'd heard those speeches before, from people just as insane but not quite as messy as Harvey Dent. This wasn't his first time being faced with murder for the sake of some twisted demonstration, and while inwardly he was horrified, he still had a job to do.

"No more fun and games, Harvey." His voice was as emotionless as he could make it, definitely not the voice of Murdock the lawyer. It was unmistakably the tone of Daredevil. "It's all about justice now."

Ignoring Topher and Margery and the corpses in the chairs beside him -- he would be grieving and angsting and obsessing over them later -- he readjusted his grip on his cane, twisting it to reveal the tidy little clubs and cable stored inside. His unfamiliar ally could get a few punches in, Matt didn't care. The carnage in the room was already done. The sole blessings of this scenario were two living witnesses.