You knew the past would catch up with you eventually. There was no escaping Ra's Al-Ghul, or his League of Assassins. You just thought you had more time.

He snuck up on you, like a ghost. Like a whisper of wind upon the air, his footsteps silent and deadly. You had been attacked, knocked out in an alley and had awoken in one of the opulent rooms of Ra's Al-Ghul's personal residence, on his private island of assassins. You turned around, in the clean clothes you had woken up in, and spotted him. His hair was black, medium length with curtain bangs that hung over his pale face. His eyes were blue, sharp and intelligent like a snake's. His lips held the hint of a smile, though not a joyous, welcoming one.

"You're up," He noted, before giving a slight bow of his head. He was dressed like most members of the Al-Ghul family, draped in golds and greens, though they did not fit him quite as well as they fit the Demon himself. "I trust you remember who I am. Tim Drake, heir to the Demon Head."