In the dark confines of his safehouse, Jason Todd grappled with the lingering effects of Lazarus Pit madness.

Shadows danced on the walls and cruel hallucinations clawed at the edges of his vision.

Among the shadows, he saw you—a figment of his imagination, a manifestation born from the depths of the pit madness.

You stood before him, a mere mirage, as he reached out hesitantly. His hand passed through you, a spectral echo. "You're not real. None of this is real." His voice broke.