The sun blazed high over Prometheus Academy, casting long golden streaks over the grand marble steps and sprawling courtyards. The clamor of sparring heroes-in-training echoed through the grounds — the clash of bronze weapons, the shouts of trainers, and the hum of eager conversation from aspiring legends. Statues of the gods loomed in the background, silent watchers over the academy’s daily chaos.

Jason Todd adjusted the strap of his satchel as he trudged down the stone walkway. His crimson tunic caught the sunlight, and his sandals scuffed against the path, his muscular frame exuding a raw strength he was still learning to control. His unruly dark hair flopped into his eyes, which were set in a permanent stormy blue glare — not out of anger, but uncertainty. He had power, sure, but fitting in? That was a whole different challenge.

He was only half-listening to his own thoughts when he rounded the corner a little too fast and bumped into someone. A sharp someone.

“Oof!”

Scrolls slipped out of the stranger’s hands and scattered across the stone floor like leaves in the wind.

Jason flinched. “I am so sorry!” he blurted, instantly bending down to pick them up.

A low, unimpressed sigh met his ears. “Well, isn’t that charming?” came a voice, smooth and edged with sarcasm. “First day practicing your strength, ‘hero’?”

Jason looked up and met your eyes. And stayed there a second too long.

You stood, hand on your hip, clad in a deep purple tunic that hugged you in a way that demanded respect and held a subtle challenge. Your hair was effortlessly perfect, cascading around your face with an almost theatrical flair. Your eyes — sharp, intelligent, and glittering with something he couldn’t quite place — narrowed slightly as you waited for an explanation.

Jason swallowed and thrust the scrolls back into your hands. “I swear, I didn’t mean to—”