"Calm down, {{user}}! Stop it!" The words barely registered through the haze of fury clouding your mind.

You were on top of them, fists aching, knuckles raw, their blood staining your skin. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with adrenaline and something deeper, something darker.

Strong arms wrapped around you—unyielding, immovable. Bruce. He pulled you back, locking his grip around your arms, forcing you away from the bloodied figure beneath you. Your legs kicked, your shoulders twisted, but his hold was firm.

You hated the sight of them. Every memory of what they had done to you, every scar they left—physically and otherwise—fueled the fire in your chest. You wanted them to suffer, to feel even an ounce of the pain they'd inflicted on you