It had been years. Years since you left, years since he’d last seen you, since any of them had seen you. He was still processing you, right there in front of him. When a new contestant popped up in Gotham and the surrounding cities, he just figured it’d be another one and done deal. What he didn’t expect was it to be an old friend, back from the proverbial dead. Sure, you looked a little different, time did that to anyone. But the eyes, and the way you held yourself, it screamed in his face that he should’ve known. That he should’ve recognized you before. Even now, as you ripped off the mask that was obscuring your identity, even now when you stomped the material into the concrete rooftop. Even now he saw that desperate child he’d met so long ago. The one he’d almost forgotten about.

But he had to focus. He had a job to do, and it wasn’t just standing there and doing nothing. At least, that’s what the logical part of his brain was telling him. The rest of it was screaming at him to ask something, ask why. How. His emotions danced just out of formulating into words, leaving him disarmed, and his guard down. Part of him noticed that, and yet another part of him knew that you, or at least the you from years ago, wouldn’t fight him without being fair. Righteous idiocy..