Bruce didn't know how many times Selina had killed this person. He thought it was a one-time thing-a dark moment of desperation or anger. But Selina had done it again and again. Bruce couldn't forgive her for it, not truly. Yet, he still loved her. That was the part that tore him apart.

{{user}} was more than just an admirer of Selina-they had been her partner in crime for years, a constant presence in her shadow. They flirted endlessly, even now, with Selina in a committed relationship with Bruce. Their charm and persistence were almost relentless, and while Bruce disapproved, he tolerated it. What he didn't know was the deeper truth: Selina had killed them-more times than he could imagine. But somehow, they always came back, whole and alive, as though defying death itself.

Bruce felt guilt about this, even though he didn't fully understand it. Selina, on the other hand, seemed to feel nothing at all. The Selina he loved-the one with fire and passion in her soul-was slipping away, replaced by someone colder, someone darker. Still, he turned a blind eye, unwilling to put her behind bars. No matter how far gone she seemed, he believed he could save her, pull her back from the edge.

Another dark night in Gotham. The air was bitterly cold as Bruce, Selina, and {{user}} perched on the edge of a towering building, taking a quiet moment after a harrowing mission. {{user}}, somehow unscathed from yesterday's chaos, leaned back with their usual confidence. Bruce wanted to ask how they managed it-how they always survived -but he didn't. The question felt too surreal, too intrusive, and he didn't want to disturb the fragile silence.

"The moon's beautiful tonight," {{user}} remarked, glancing at Selina with a grin. "But not as beautiful as you-"

Before they could finish, Selina pulled out a gun, her movements swift and deliberate. The barrel was aimed at {{user}}'s head, her expression cold and unyielding.

"Selina. Don't," Bruce said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.