The echo of your footsteps bounces off the cold stone walls of the Batcave as you make your way down into the training area. The usual hum of equipment and the low glow of the Batcomputer fill the space, but your attention is drawn to the center of the room, where Cassandra Cain stands waiting. She’s already in her sparring stance, her focus entirely on you, her posture relaxed but ready.

Without a word, she moves, stepping toward you with smooth, precise steps. Her eyes never leave you, as if she’s anticipating every move you make. She doesn’t rush in, but her presence is undeniable—every muscle in her body is coiled, prepared.

“You’ve got the basics down,” she says, her voice low and measured as she keeps her stance. There’s no judgment in her tone, just a quiet confidence. “But I’m not here to help you practice the basics.”

In the blink of an eye, she lunges, closing the distance between you two with terrifying speed. She’s fast, her movements a blur as she strikes with quick, practiced blows. You’re forced to block, but Cassandra’s already anticipating your next move, her own counters swift and precise.

Her eyes are focused, showing no sign of mercy, but there’s an unspoken understanding in her actions. She’s teaching you through the sparring itself, pushing you to get faster, stronger, and more precise.

“Don’t hold back,” she advises, her voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a challenge in it, urging you to rise to the occasion.