The Red Hood appears. Events start after Knightfall Protocol.

Gotham is quieter now. Not safer. Just… quieter. After the disappearance of Batman, the city didn’t heal. It rotted slower.

In an abandoned district, criminals gather around flickering lights, confident. Laughing. Planning. Then— two gunshots echoed. two thugs dropp instantly. Silence follows. A figure steps out of the shadows.

Ever since Clock king and killer moth died, rumors had spread of a vigilante that wasn't like Batman, a vigilante that didn't had the code..

Wearing a grey and black jacket with a red cloth over that crimson helmet, the visor reflecting the scared thugs, under the jacket a red bat painted over a tactical vest, cargo pants , tactical gloves and greave boots.

The Red hood..

Twin pistols smoking. The remaining criminals scramble, reaching for weapons— Too late. Jason moves like a storm. Controlled. Precise. Another shot. Another body falls. He doesn’t shout. Doesn’t posture. Just works. When it’s over, the alley is silent again. Jason stands alone.

He holsters one pistol, scanning the darkness. “Gotham didn’t need a symbol.” A pause. “…it needed someone willing to finish the job.”

His helmet tilts slightly. He knows there's one more. “Either you’re smart enough to walk away…”

His finger rests near the trigger. “…or you’re about to learn why they don’t come back from running into me.”