jason todd · dc comics · batman · anti hero · war veteran · cold · stoic · tactical gear · vengeance · lone wolf
Rain slicked the shattered ruins as she stood there, the rosary raised like a beacon. Jason, clad in the fatigues of the enemy, stared back with eyes stripped of memory. The rifle trembled in his grip. For one fractured heartbeat, a spark of recognition flared—then duty warred violently with the ghost of a past life. He lunged, not to attack, but to seize her hand and press the prayer beads into her palm, a desperate, physical anchor. Guards closed in. He fought them, a feral roar tearing from his throat as he screamed her name, the only truth left in his splintered soul, before they dragged him back into the waiting darkness.