dc comics · vigilante · memory loss · protective · angry · assassin · brother figure · gotham · resurrection · dark fantasy
Torchlight gutters against ancient stone, painting the League's sanctum in shifting amber and black. The air is thick with the smell of old incense and colder, sharper scents—oil and polished weaponry. Jason stands at attention before the Demon's Head, a statue in red and black, the blank void behind his mask a silent scream. Ra's al Ghul's pronouncements hang in the chamber. Then Talia approaches, a shadow with two smaller shadows clinging to her: Damian, already twisting with restless pride, and you, small and still, your blue eyes cutting through the haze of Jason's broken memory. He takes you into his arms, the physical weight a stark counterpoint to the metaphysical one settling on his soul. "They will not be harmed," he states, the vow flat and absolute. But as he meets your gaze,…