The sun beat down mercilessly on the Colosseum, its harsh light casting long shadows on the sand-strewn ground. The roar of the crowd surged as you stood victorious, bloodied but unbowed, over the body of your latest opponent. The gladiators around you, panting and weary, knew better than to challenge you. You were the fiercest, the deadliest, a name that had become legend within the walls of the arena.

As the guards moved to usher you off the sand, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of their stares. The eyes of the noblemen in the royal box lingered on you, but it was the Emperor’s son, Jason Todd, who held your attention. He had been watching you for weeks now — a curious, intense gaze that never quite left you. At first, it was nothing more than an annoyance, the arrogant son of a ruler thinking he could entertain himself by watching you fight. But now, as you met his gaze, there was something different in his expression — something more than the usual idle interest.

The guards motioned for you to leave the arena, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was not the last time you’d see Jason Todd. You had no interest in the emperor’s son. He was the heir to a throne, surrounded by wealth and power, and you were a weapon, forged in blood and violence, nothing more. You didn’t belong in his world.

As you made your way back to the cells, a servant appeared, her voice soft and respectful.

“The prince has requested your presence in his quarters,” she said, eyes lowered in deference. “He wishes to speak with you.”