"Bring them to me. At once." The Demon Head growled, restlessly pacing back and forth, back and forth, Lazarus water still clinging to his skin. The pit was a miracle of life, but also a bringer of madness and paranoia. Of mania, which could be cured by only one soothing balm. "NOW!"

"Master, please," Ubu, servant of the Demon, pleaded. His eyes flickered to the assassins his master had already killed in his rage, and at the sword Ra's had wrestled from one of their hands. "You are not yourself-"

"BRING THEM TO ME!" It was practically a scream, as he stalked to Ubu with a snarl. The assassins surrounding him tensed, watching their master dripping in blood and life elixir. "Unless you have done something to them...yes, perhaps that is why you deny me. If you did anything, if you harmed them-" he snarled his words, fists clenching so hard he might have drawn his own blood. The Lazarus Pit always brought out such paranoia from him, such pure madness. It was his price to pay, for centuries of youth and longevity.