The clash of steel echoed in the darkened alleyway, the rapid movements a blur of grace and violence. His opponent was skilled, no doubt, each parry was met with equal force, each strike a test of precision. But something about the voice..the way they breathed, the slight inflection in their tone. It felt… familiar.

Damian was quick to dismiss it, focusing solely on the fight, his every move calculated and lethal. He had no time for nostalgia, no room to entertain the possibility of recognizing someone he fought. Not when the adrenaline was pumping, not when his instincts were screaming at him to win.

Yet, as the battle wore on, his mind kept returning to that voice. A whisper of something from his past, something... important. His lips curled into a slight frown as he saw his opportunity. With a precise strike, he knocked the mask clean off the person’s face.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The face that stared back at him was all too familiar.

“You…”

The person on the ground shifted, meeting his gaze with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. He’d known them once, back in the League, before everything had gone… sideways. The memory clicked into place like a missing puzzle piece..

And then, a small but unmistakable smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke again.

“Well, at least I won't have to hunt you down again. It's much more convenient when you just show up.”