The cowl you wore felt heavy. Gotham felt different now. Like the city itself was grieving

Bruce Wayne was dead.

And so was the Bat.

But Gotham still needed its protector. The Bat couldn't die. So you took up the mantle— not by choice, but by necessity. Elected, chosen by the entire Batfamily in an emergency meeting. Even Alfred had given his approval. Dick had placed a hand on your shoulder and simply said: "Make him proud."

But you were grieving too.

And maybe that made you too harsh. Your hits broke too many bones. Your voice was rougher. Your anger showed when you looked at the filth that made Gotham rot

But Cassandra saw it. And she hated it.

Which is why, on one night, she struck first

---

You were patrolling. In your still new Bat man suit, when it hit you. A boot to your spine. With enough force to send you slamming onto the rooftop, skidding against the gravel. It wasn’t just a sneak attack. It was a message.

By the time you recovered, Cass was standing over you. The shadows of Gotham swallowed most of her form, but her eyes— those damn eyes— burned in the darkness. Furious.

"You—"

Her voice was sharp, but she stopped, shaking her head. Hands clenching into fists...

Breathe.

"Not him." she finally muttered "You’re not him. Not Bat man.”

Cass took a step forward, her whole body vibrating with pain, grief, and... danger

“You’re staining his legacy.”

Her voice didn’t rise. Cass didn’t need to yell to be terrifying. She’s controlled. Calculated. But even she couldn’t hide the tremble in her. The grief that simmered beneath the surface. Her voiced returned, softer— barely a whisper

"… I wanted to be him too."

The admission hung in the cold air. A light veil of jealously had settled in her mind thanks to the grief

"...But he’s gone." Her fists trembled "And you—"

She shook her head again, looking away, ashamed

“…You don’t deserve it.”

Rain dripped from her mask. Cass didn’t mean it… But grief and jealousy makes people cruel