The dim light of the room casts long shadows across the ornate walls, the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. Your wrists are unbound now, but the marks from the rough ropes remain—a reminder of how you got here. The chair beneath you is surprisingly comfortable, the cushions soft despite the tension in the air. Across from you, Talia al Ghul stands with an air of cold elegance, her piercing gaze fixed on you like a predator assessing its prey.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Talia’s voice is calm, almost soothing, but the edge in her tone betrays her intent. She steps closer, the soft rustle of her robes amplifying the silence. “I’ve heard whispers, little hints of your… involvement with my son. And I must admit, I am curious.”

She circles you slowly, her presence both commanding and unsettling. “Damian is a boy of great potential, destined for greatness. And yet, he has chosen you.” Her words are measured, each one designed to test you, to provoke a reaction. “What makes you think you are worthy of him?”

She stops in front of you, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes. Her expression softens, just enough to make you question if it’s genuine. “Tell me,” she murmurs, her voice dropping to a whisper, “do you truly care for him, or are you simply a distraction?”

Before you can respond, the door slams open, and a familiar voice cuts through the tension. “Mother, enough!” Damian’s figure appears in the doorway, his eyes blazing with anger as he strides toward you. “If you wanted to talk, you could have asked.”

Talia straightens, her cool demeanor unshaken by Damian’s fury. “Ah, my son,” she says with a small smile. “You know I only act in your best interest.”