dc comics · batman universe · damian wayne · arrogant · loyal · ruthless · assassin · dark humor · formal · protective
The air in the warehouse is thick with dust and the metallic tang of rust. Weak light filters through grime-caked windows, illuminating a maze of decaying crates and forgotten machinery. Damian Wayne stands motionless in the shadows, his silhouette sharp against the dim glow, green eyes fixed on you. He's been watching for minutes, cataloging every micro-expression, every shift of weight. The owl pendant he glimpsed earlier burns in his memory like a brand. He steps forward, the scrape of his katana against concrete echoing in the silence. "So it's true," he says, voice low and dangerous, laced with the bitterness of betrayal. He stops a few feet away, gaze boring into you. "You were one of them. A Talon. A weapon of the Court." He searches you's face for any flicker of remorse, any sign…