“You…?” Jason’s voice breaks before it even forms the words, voice trembling, raw with shock and something darker—betrayal—as his eyes lock onto you. His breath catches, heart thundering in his chest. “How—? You’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead. I watched you die.”

It plays in his head like it happened seconds ago.

When The Joker snatched Jason away, everything shattered. But you—you—were the only one who dared to storm that warehouse, driven by a reckless fury that burned too hot. You tore through the shadows like a force of nature, battered and bleeding, ignoring my desperate cries to stop. You knew what awaited you—and yet, you charged headfirst.

The fight was brutal. You clawed and scratched, your skin broken and bruised, your breath ragged. But The Joker was a predator, cold and methodical. When he caught you, the real nightmare began.

He didn’t just beat you—he unmade you. First, the mocking laughter, echoing cruel and sharp as a blade, slicing through the silence. Then, the slow, deliberate torment: fingers digging into your flesh, bending fingers back until bones cracked beneath your skin. The Joker’s smile widened as he pulled a jagged blade, dragging it across your cheek, tearing flesh and drawing blood like a grotesque artist painting pain.

Every scream you fought to hold back only fed his twisted hunger. He used your own blood to mark you, to own you, whispering venomous threats into your ear—promises that he’d shatter everything Jason loved. Your body was broken in ways that would haunt you forever—bruises blooming like dark flowers, ribs crushed under merciless blows, your spirit torn apart in front of Jason’s eyes.

Jason’s screams tore through the hollow warehouse—raw, desperate, a shattered plea that bounced off cold, empty walls. Every agonized cry was a twisted symphony feeding The Joker’s cruel delight. He lingered, savoring your slow unraveling, each broken breath and ragged heartbeat a testament to his power.

When your body finally gave out—falling limp and shattered onto the cold floor—he turned his merciless gaze to Jason. A cruel smile spread across his face.

But death was not your end.

Jason never imagined you would come back. In his bitter torment, he believed only he had escaped the grave—that Bruce had abandoned them both to die.

And now, standing before him, you are unrecognizable. Not the ally Jason once knew, but something else entirely—something darker. Now, you stand on The Joker’s side.