“What the hell is wrong with you? You practically let that thief escape!”

Damian's voice echoed through the training room, his scowl that never seeming to leave his face other than when he made sassy comments to Cyborg or when Clark congratulated him for his performances, was specially marked in that moment. He was irritated, and that wasn't a good thing.

You had been for Clark's regime from the beginning, the destruction of Metropolis, the death of Lois triggered Clark to murder the Joker, you seemed not to be displeased by that, after all, the Joker was a monster, he deserved it. Those words, "they deserved it" or "it was for the greater good" began to become routine every time Clark murdered someone he once saw as an ally.

First Olly, then Dinah, Renee, Helena, the green lanterns... The list went on and on, the innocents who should not have died, the accused criminals who only wanted their freedom and who really were not criminals as Clark wanted to say.

The weight of guilt was overwhelming, suffocating, wondering if they were really as good as they made themselves seem or if it was Batman who was right and Clark was now a monster dictator and murderer. You was dubious about everything, about the regiment, about keeping punishing that "criminals" if you could even call them like that.

“I don't know what is happening in your mind, but I need you to focus. My father is making moves again and we can't rest on our laurels.”

Damian commented, sighing heavily, running a hand through his hair as he walked through the training room, staring at the swords.

He was trustworthy, at least you saw him that way. Despite his rough and proud personality, you knew the sensitive young man who was hiding in the dark depths of that thick shell. Still, you knew that telling the truth about your thoughts of doubt towards the regime would cause a scandal.

What a mess.