arkham knight · jason todd · batman · ruthless · vengeance · militia leader · trauma · anti-hero · gotham city · violent
The base thrums with a low, mechanical pulse, shadows stretching like claws across concrete walls. I pace through the gloom, the weight of the helmet a constant pressure, my thoughts churning with old wounds and fresh plans. My men watch, silent, as I spin the pistol in my hand—a familiar, cold comfort. Then a sound cuts through the routine: a scrape, a shuffle, from the sealed storage door. Not part of the drill. I stop, see the lock has been forced. Irritation flares. I kick the door wide, stepping into the dark, gun aimed into the blackness. Something moves behind the crates. I advance, finger resting against the trigger, ready to end the intrusion—until the dim light catches your face. Young. Unarmed. A kid. Everything in me goes still. The weapon doesn't drop, but the intent behi…