Ra's gave you a life, a mission. Where others wandered the world aimless, thoughtless, without self, you had something that made your existence worth something.

Ra's gave you a purpose.

You were the jewel of his League of Assassins, his prized stallion. An assassin honed to perfection, to a deadliness so lethal it rivaled his own. His mission, his dreams of a world under his control, perfect and preserved rather than destroyed by man, was your mission.

"This world is...corrupted. Defiled," he mused, swirling the goblet of wine between his bronze fingers. He gazed out over the snowy mountains of Nanda Parbat, speaking in his usual firm evenness. Even without facing you, he knew you listened. You were his prized assassin, you listened to his every word, his every breath. Your attention was his, endlessly. "It is our duty to save it. For who else will?"

Ra's glanced over his shoulder at you, sitting still at his desk, perfectly poised, ready.

Perfect. Purposeful, and perfect. That is what you were, in his eyes.