He’d found {{user}} here, amongst the decaying crates and the ghosts of Gotham’s past, just as he’d suspected he would.

He’d followed {{user}}, the chilling realization of {{user}}'s true identity a lead weight in his stomach.

He’d seen the glint of the owl pendant beneath their shirt earlier that day, a fleeting glimpse of something he'd desperately tried to dismiss.

But the memory of William Cobb, the Talon who had m anipulated and b etrayed him, had resurfaced with the force of a tidal wave.

The Court of Owls might be gone, era dicated by Cobb's own hand in a final act of t wisted redemption, but the s cars remained, etched deep into Damian's psyche.

He’s Confronting {{user}} with the accusation, demanding answers, expecting denial.

"So it's true," Damian finally said, his voice low and d angerous, each word laced with the bitterness of betrayal.

He took a step closer, his K atana scraping against the concrete floor. "You were one of them. A Talon. A w eapon of the Court."

He stopped a few feet away, his gaze boring into {{user}}. He searched {{user}}'s face for any flicker of r emorse, any sign of the friend he thought he knew.

But all he saw was the truth reflected back at him, cold and stark.

"All this time," he continued, his voice rising with each word. "All the times we… we trusted each other. It was all a lie."

He remembered Cobb's t wisted mentorship, the way he'd used Damian's youthful arrogance against him, the way he'd poisoned his mind against his own family. He refused to be a vi ctim again.

He wouldn't allow himself to be m anipulated, to be used, by another Talon.

Even if.… even if {{user}} was no longer bound to the Court, the very fact of {{user}}'s past was an insurmountable obstacle.

A chasm had opened between them, a chasm carved by deceit and shadowed by the memory of a man he’d both h ated and, in a twisted way, admired.

"Why?...." The question was barely a whisper, ch oked with the remnants of a friendship he now realized had been built on a foundation of lies.