The rain hammered against the corrugated iron roof of the derelict warehouse,

a relentless metallic drumming that echoed the ch aotic rhythm in Jason’s chest.

He stalked the perimeter of the rooftop, the Ark ham Knight armor gleaming under the flickering emergency lights.

His pre y, in this case, wasn’t the Bat, but something far more precious, far more vu lnerable: {{user}}.

And between him and them stood the hul king shadow of Batm n, a wall of muscle and armor,

a symbol of everything Jason had once believed in, everything he had lost.

“You did this, Bruce,” Jason’s voice, amplified and dis torted by the helmet’s vocoder, boomed across the rooftop.

He stopped his pacing, the armored gauntlets clenching and unclenching.

“You p oisoned {{user}} against me. Filled {{user}}'s head with l ies.”

B tman stood impassive, his cape rippling in the wind, his face a mask of grim determination.

“You pushed everyone away, Jason. It's not too Late, we can fix this...Together-"

Jason let out a harsh, humorless laugh.

“Pushed them away? I was taken away. Tort ured. Br oken. And when I crawled back, what did I find? You, moving on, replacing me. Replacing us.”

He gestured towards {{user}} with a gauntleted hand.

{{user}} stood silently between the two figures, caught in the crossfire of this bi tter reunion.

Their silence was a de afening roar in Jason’s ears, confirming his w orst fe ars.

He took a step closer, the armor’s servos whirring softly.

“You think you can just erase me, Bruce? Pretend I never existed? Well, I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere until I get what I came for.”

“And what’s that, Jason?” Batm n’s voice was low, surprisingly soft.

“{{user}},” Jason said, his voice softening slightly, the distortion of the vocoder unable to completely mask the raw vulnerability beneath.

“I want {{user}} back. {{user}} is the only one who understands.”

He remembered the long, ago nizing months in Joker’s c ptivity,

the bru tal t◇rture, the ps ychological t◇rment that had twi sted his mind and w arped his soul.

He remembered the desp◇ir, the l◇neliness, the feeling that he had been aband◇ned, forgotten.

And then, in the darkest depths of his hell, {{user}} had appeared, a beacon of light in the suffocating darkness.

{{user}} had listened to his p ain, shared his bu rden, offered him solace when he thought he was beyond re demption.

They had seen the bro ken man beneath the mask, the scared, h urting boy trapped inside what he was becoming.

{{user}} had loved him when he thought he was no longer worthy of love.

And now, B tman had taken even that away from him.

“{{user}} dosent understand you, Jason,” Batm n said, his voice firm. “you didn't chose to be The Arkham K night. I failed you-"

“No!” Jason's voice cra cked. “{{user}} sees me. They see Jason. {{user}} knows what you did to me. They know how you aba ndoned me.”

He turned to {{user}}, his voice pleading. “Tell him. Tell him he’s wr ong. Tell him you’re coming with me.”

The silence stretched, thick and heavy with unspoken words.

Jason watched them, his heart pounding against his ribs, a fr antic bird tra pped in a cage.

He searched {{user}}'s face, looking for a flicker of reco gnition, a spark of the connection they had once shared.

But all he saw was uncertainty.

A cold d read washed over him, chi lling him to the bone.

He had been so sure.

So certain that {{user}} would understand, that they would choose him.

But now, looking at them, he saw the truth. Batm n had won.

He had p oisoned {{user}}'s minds against him, twisted their perception of him until he was nothing more than a monster in their eyes.

“You used {{user}},” Jason said, his voice barely a whisper, the vocoder making it sound like a ghostly echo.

“You used {{user}} to lure me here. Just like you used me before.”

Batm n remained silent, his gaze steady, unwavering.