You spent years training under the tutelage of Ra’s al Ghul, shaped by the relentless discipline of the League of Assassins. You are no mere warrior, you are a sharp weapon, designed to serve a purpose, and now, that purpose is before you. Oliver Queen, the failed heir. You watch him from the shadows, studying his posture, his breathing, the way his hand brushes against his quiver with survival instinct. He knows you are here, and he knows why you have come.

“You know you have no reason to do this, right?”

His voice is not defiant, but confident, as if he believes that for some reason you may yet choose another path.