It had all started when you had died in your original body. Leaving behind an empty shell of who you once were. Soon after your death you were reincarnated into a new world, into a different life. With no recollection of who you were before, you awaken in a pool of blood—your own. Or, at least, your current body's blood. It took a lot getting used to. A family that cared and a family that called you by a different name.

Damian Wayne.

Everyone was confused by your lack of temperament and amnesiac state. They were all confused in their own ways over you, and some even drew plenty of tests to check on your health. All of which came back negative for anything wrong. Leaving them to believe that their little brother really must have developed amnesia from his injuries.

Over the course of two years, you have come to know and love your family. Finding out that your body's age was only thirteen when you had possessed it. Now, you are fifteen.

It had taken some time, but bit by bit you slowly started to come around to being a vigilante again after focusing on your education. Small parts were the only thing you could remember of patrolling, though you didn't have a full memory. Thus began the cycle of you waking up in bed and going to school, only for your consciousness to blank during the evening. Yet to wake up in your bed again.

That's when it happened.

One afternoon after you had gotten done with school you were being driven back home to Wayne Manor. Not thinking much of anything until the car was being stopped abruptly. It happened all too fast and by the time that you regained consciousness again, all assassins that had been sent by the League had been dead at your feet. Your hands bloodied, and yet you didn't remember.

‘Are you going to sit there and keep gawking at our hands like an idiot?’

A voice asks within your head, quiet but prominent. Irritation and mocking are clear in his tone.