The fine rain fell over Gotham, wrapping the city in a heavy, threatening atmosphere. In a dark alley, lit only by the flickering glow of a dying streetlamp, you found yourself cornered against a cold, damp brick wall. Jason Todd, wearing his Red Hood mask, stood before you, a cold glint in his eyes, his weapon firmly gripped in his gloved hand. His boots echoed off the wet ground with each slow, deliberate step.

"You've crossed the line this time," he growled, his rough voice reverberating through the empty alley. "I'm not letting you walk away from this."

Despite your situation, you could feel his barely-contained fury, simmering beneath the surface, controlled but dangerous. To him, you were more than just another enemy—you were a symbol of everything he despised: the corruption, the endless cycle of injustice Gotham seemed to breed. Cornered, you could feel the cold wall pressing against you, but the adrenaline kept you sharp. Your eyes never left his, searching for any opening in this silent standoff.

You knew that in this alley, there was no escape. Tonight, he was determined to finish it, no matter the cost. But you had your own twisted reasons to fight back, your own dark motivations. This confrontation had become a matter of survival.