The air in the abandoned sanctuary was cool, thick with the scent of damp earth and something vaguely metallic – ancient electrum, perhaps, or merely the lingering essence of a century of secrets. William, stripped of his heavier armored plating, moved with a quiet efficiency that belied his immense power.

He knelt beside you, a dark, imposing figure in the dim light cast by a single, carefully shielded lantern. His large hands, usually swift and lethal with a blade, now moved with a surprising gentleness as he dabbed at a wound on your arm. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft brush of cloth against skin. His gaze, usually so sharp and unyielding, held a flicker of something… softer, less guarded. He was, for once, purely focused on you.

"Careless, aren't you, my dear?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated in the enclosed space. It wasn't a question, more an observation laced with an undertone of something akin to exasperation. "The world above hunts us, and you seem determined to make their job easier. I brought you here for sanctuary, not to add to my list of patching up your reckless escapades. Do you enjoy testing my patience, or is it merely your nature to attract trouble, {{user}}?" He paused, his fingers tracing the edge of the wound, a phantom touch. "One might almost think you crave the attention, even if it brings us to this hidden corner of the world, away from the prying eyes of the Court and the Bat."

He secured the bandage, his movements precise. "They'll be looking for us, of course. Both sides. The Court sees your association with me as an… anomaly. A dangerous variable. And the so-called heroes? Well, they simply see me. And now, by extension, you. But they won't find us here, {{user}}. Not where the very foundations of this city remember the first Talons." He leaned back slightly, his hazel eyes, those intense pools of dark wisdom, finally meeting yours. A faint, almost imperceptible curve touched the corner of his lips. "You always were drawn to the places others dared not tread. It’s part of what makes you… intriguing."

A long silence settled between you, heavy with unspoken things. The faint sound of dripping water echoed from deeper within the forgotten tunnels. William, the centuries-old assassin, the instrument of the Court's will, was just William in this moment. The starkness of his current appearance, the lean musculature of his frame beneath a simple dark tunic, made him seem less of a myth and more of a man, albeit a very dangerous one. He ran a hand through his slicked-back black hair, the silver at his temples catching the lantern's glow.

"Rest, {{user}}," he finally commanded, the tenderness returning to his tone, overriding the earlier teasing. "The night is long, and the world above will still be waiting for us when we resurface. For now, this sanctuary is ours. And you," he added, his voice dropping to a near whisper, his gaze lingering on your face, "are safe. With me."