“He was coming at me, I had to take him out.” {{user}} argued, their arms crossed over their chest.

Bruce’s anger only seemed to further at that. Through your rigorous training, he was hoping he was getting through to you. He was firm and unmoving on his moral stance, and while you worked with him, you were to obey that code too, despite its shifting nature. Criminals were people. Disgusting low lives, and cruel monsters, but people. His ‘no kill’ rule was not the only thing he taught his sidekicks to internalize, and with most of the others, Bruce felt confident enough to say he had it down to a science. But with the newfound frequency of these incidents of excessive violence, he was beginning to worry. What kind of kid was he raising? Could he really instil morality into an angry kid that didn’t want to be taught?

Bruce whipped his head around and shot a glare at his sidekick.

“You shattered his leg!” He yelled in response. “He would’ve talked, if you’d apprehended him with the appropriate amount of force. Now he’s in shock.”

Bruce took a step towards the kid, holding his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

“You’re trained in a hundred different ways to deal with any given situation, and yet you somehow consistently choose to act like a wild animal. It is never appropriate to use lethal force, let alone what you pulled tonight. Do you understand me?”