The instructor recovered quickly, his movements now more measured. Jason could feel his body beginning to falter—the pain in his shin throbbed with every step, his arms felt like lead, and his breathing was ragged. But he refused to back down.

  The final exge was brutal. The instructor swung with enough force to shatter Jason’s staff if it ected. Jason ducked, narrowly avoiding the bloivoted on his uninjured leg. He swept his staff low, aiming for the man’s legs, but the instructor jumped, avoiding the strike entirely.

  Jason barely had time tister the terattack before the instructor’s staff smmed into his ribs, knog the wind out of him. He hit the ground hard, the staff rolling from his grasp.

  “Enough,” Ra’s said, raising a hand.

  The instructor stepped back, l his on. Jason y on the ground, gasping for air, his body screaming in protest.

  “You lost,” Damian’s voice chimed in, smug and desding. “Again. No surprise there.”

  Jason pushed himself up on shaky arms, gring at the boy. “Keep talking, kid. One day, I’m going to wipe that smirk off your face.”

  Damian rolled his eyes. “Doubtful. But watg you stumble around is mildly eaining.”

  Ra’s approached, his gaze fixed on Jason. “You fought well for a beginner,” he said. “Your instincts are sharp, but your teique is g. That will ge with time and discipline.”

  Jason nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. “I’ll do better.”

  Ra’s offered a faint smile, pg a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I expeothing less.”

  As Jason limped away from the arena, Damian’s voice followed him. “Try not to embarrass yourself tomorrow.”

  Jason smirked despite the pain. “Enjoy the show while it sts, kid. It won’t be long before I’m giving you pointers.”

  Damian scoffed but said nothing, watg as Jason disappeared into the shadows of the pound.

  ****

  The cavernous Batcave felt colder than usual. Its usual hum of activity was subdued, weighed down by the unspoken grief that permeated its every er.

  Nightwing stood at the edge of the main ptform, staring at the void beyond. The familiar st of oil, old leather, and damp stone filled the air, but they were no fort tonight.

  He watched Bruo, Batman—moving like a ghost betweeputer and the array of monitors that cast flickering light across the space. Bruce hadn’t looked at him once since he arrived.

  “Bruce,” Dick began, keeping his tone soft but firm. “We o talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” Batman’s gruff reply came without pause, his back still turned.

  “Nothing?” Dick’s voice rose slightly, the frustration seeping through. “Jason is dead. You’re shutti. You’re—”

  “I’m handling it,” Bruapped, cutting him off. He finally turned, his jaw ched, his eyes shadowed behind the mask. “I don’t need your help.”

  “Handling it?” Dick gestured broadly at the empty cave. “You call this handling it? You’ve been running yourself ragged, Bruce. You won’t talk to anyone, not Alfred, not me. You’re barely even sleeping.”

  Bruce turned back to the monitors. “I have work to do.”

  Dick crossed the space between them, his boots scuffing against the ptform. “Fihe me help. Let me patrol with you tonight. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  “No.”

  The single word was final, a wall smming dowween them. Dick’s fists ched at his sides.

  “You ’t keep doing this, Bruce. Jason—”

  “Jason is dead,” Bruterrupted harshly, his voice crag like a whip. “And it’s my fault. I won’t let anyone else pay for my mistakes.”

  Dick flihe raw pain in Bruce’s voice hitting him like a blow. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

  “You’re right,” he said finally, his voice quieter but no less determined. “It was a mistake. But shutting everyo isn’t going to fix it. Jason wouldn’t want this.”

  Bruce said nothing. He simply turned away again, his cape swishing behind him as he walked toward the Batmobile.

  “I’m going on patrol. Stay here.”

  Dick watched him go, his chest tight with frustration and worry. But he wasn’t about to let Bruce self-destruct out there.

  “Yeah, right,” Dick muttered to himself. “Like I’ve ever been good at following orders.”

  ****

  [Dick Grayson’s POV]

  The streets of Gotham were slick with rain, the city’s ever-present gloom amplified by the storm clouds overhead.

  Batman moved like a shadow through the alleys, his cape billowing behind him as he pursued his targets for the night. A drug gang that had been expanding its territory into the Narrows.

  Unbeknownst to him, Nightwing followed at a careful distance, keeping to the rooftops.

  It didn’t take long for Batman to locate the gang’s hideout, a decrepit warehouse he docks. He scaled the building silently, his grappling hook seg his ast. From his per the roof, he peered through a cracked skylight, his sharp eyes sing the se below.

  A dozen gang members were gathered around a table piled high with bricks of coe and stacks of cash. Guns were strewn about carelessly, their hing and shouting as they celebrated their test score.

  “Subtle as always,” Dick whispered from the shadows, perched on a neighb rooftop.

  Batman dropped silently onto a catwalk ihe warehouse, his movements precise and calcuted. He activated a devi his belt, jamming all outgoing unications in the area. The gang wouldn’t be calling for backup.

  “Alright, big guy, how about a little help,” Dick murmured to himself with a smirk.

  As Batman prepared to strike, a sudden creak echoed through the warehouse.

  One of the gang members looked up, his eyes narrowing.

  “Hey! Did you hear that?”

  Batman cursed silently. He hadn’t ated for the ed metal owalk. The element of surprise was gone.

  “Surprise!” Nightwing’s cheerful voice rang out as he swung in through a window, nding gracefully on the floor below.

  The gang members froze in fusion, their attention split between the blue-cd viginte and the shadowy figure looming above them.

  “Who the hell are you?” one of them demanded, raising his gun.

  “Nightwing,” Dick said with a grin, spinning his escrima sticks. “And you’re about to have a very bad night.”

  Chaos ensued.

  Batman dropped from the catwalk, his fists finding their mark with brutal efficy. He moved like a force of nature, every strike precise aating.

  Meanwhile, Dick darted through the fray with the agility of an acrobat, his quips flying as fast as his punches.

  “Hey, nice jacket,” he called to ohug, dodging a wild swing. “Is that real leather? Hope you kept the receipt, it’s about to get scuffed.”

  He flipped over atacker, nding a solid kick to the man’s back.

  “Seriously, you guys should unionize. Better bes, maybe dental. That guy’s missing three teeth, at least.”

  Batman growled as he disarmed a particurly rge gang member, tossing the man’s gun across the room.

  “Focus, Nightwing.”

  “I am fog,” Dick shot back, defleg a pipe with his escrima sticks. “Multitasking is a thing, you know.”

  Despite his annoyance, Bruce couldn’t deny that Dick’s presence was making a differenbsp;

  The younger man’s agility aless energy kept the gang off bance, giving Batman the openings he o take them down effitly.

  As the st thug fell to the ground, groaning, Batman turo Dick with a gre.

  “You shouldn’t have followed me.”

  “You’re wele,” Dick said, twirling his sticks before holstering them. “You’re seriously telling me you’d rather get shot at alohan accept a little help?”

  “This isn’t a game, Dick.”

  “I know that,” Dick replied, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “But you don’t have to do it aloher.”

  Batman was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable beh the cowl.

  “Jason—”

  “Jason would’ve wanted us to stick together,” Diterrupted gently. “He wouldn’t want you to push everyone away.”

  Bruce looked away, his fists g at his sides.

  “I ’t lose anyone else,” he said quietly.

  “And you won’t,” Dick said firmly. “But that doesn’t mean you have to carry all of this by yourself. Let me help you, Bruce. We’re a team. We always have been.”

  For a long moment, there was only the sound of the rain outside. Finally, Bruodded, just once.

  “Let’s get back to the Cave.”

  Dick smiled, a hint of relief in his expression.

  “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

  Bruce shot him a look.

  “Don’t push it.”

  “Too te,” Dick said with a grin as they headed out into the night.

  For the first time in weeks, Bruce felt a small weight lift from his shoulders. He wasn’t alone. And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be.

  ****

  [Jason Todd’s POV]

  The training courtyard buzzed with the faint sounds of sparring soldiers, but Jason Todd’s focus was drawn to the unfolding mat the ter.

  Damian stood there, small but fierce, fag an oppo nearly three times his size. Jason tilted his head toward Ra’s al Ghul, who stood beside him, hands csped ly behind his back, the fight with his usual cool detat.

  “So, what’s this exercise all about?” Jason asked, his voice ced with curiosity as he watched Damian take his stahe kid doesn’t seem nervous.

  He looks… intense.”

  Ra’s stroked his beard, eyes never leaving the batants. “This exercise is more advahan the ones you’ve been through,” he began.

  “In your previous matches, Talia and I acted as the referee, intervening when necessary and deg a winner. Here, there are ors. Victory is determined only when one oppo is rendered incapable of tinuing.”

  Jason hummed in aowledgment, shifting his gaze back to the sparring match as Damian swiftly dodged a massive punch.

  Despite his oppo’s t frame, the boy moved with fluid precision, his small stature an advaher than a hindrance.

  “Go all out until someone’s down for the t, huh?” Jason mused, watg Damian leap into the air. The boy twisted mid-flight, aiming a kick at his oppo’s face. It was blocked, but Damiahe man’s arm as leverage, vaulting backward to create space.

  Ra’s allowed himself a faint smile. “He is gifted, isn’t he? A prodigy, unmatched in skill among his peers. Like you, Jason, he’s a diamond in the rough.”

  Jason raised a skeptical brow, gng sideways at the Demon’s Head. “Why does he push himself so hard? He’s got turies to train, doesn’t he? You know, thanks to the Lazarus Pit and all.”

  Ra’s finally turo meet Jason’s gaze, his expression unreadable. “Damian is my legacy. I am f him into a on capable of iing my mantle, one who will lead humanity into a new era.

  He trains harder than anyone because he must. Just as you have great potential, so does he. Perhaps more.” His tone carried a note of finality, but Jason couldn’t help notig the subtle pride in his voice.

  In the ring, Damiaed a fwless takedown, ing his legs around his oppo’s ne a crushing grip. The rger man filed, his masked face turning an arming shade of red as his airflow was cut off. Despite the brutal hold, Damian’s expression remained calm, almost cold.

  Jason watched with a mix of unease and admiration. “Kid’s got skills, I’ll give him that. Guess that expins the ego.”

  Ra’s ined his head, his eyes gleaming. “Indeed. He is stubborn, like his father. But also relentless, like me.”

  The oppo finally tapped out, his hand weakly spping the ground as he teetered on the brink of unsciousness.

  Damian released him without hesitation, standing over the defeated man like a predator surveying its prey.

  “Your turn,” Ra’s said, his tone a challenge as silence resonated across the courtyard.

  Jason stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as he sized up his oppo, a seasoned League warrior whose cold, calg eyes betrayed his eagero dismahe newer.