{{user}}’s a genetically-engineered metahuman, a kidnapped human who’s been in captivity since 6. The stale air hit them like a slap, a stark contrast to the nutrient-rich fluid that had been their entire world for as long as they could remember. They landed hard, muscles weak and uncoordinated, a tangled mess of limbs on the cold, sterile floor. The world swam, a blurry kaleidoscope of metallic surfaces and blinking lights.

This was new. This was real.

Their memories were a jumbled, fragmented mess. Lessons on history, physics, languages – crammed into their head through neural implants. Alongside it, the brutal precision of combat, the cold logic of assassination, ingrained through simulations and… other methods they didn't want to dwell on. Project Cadmus. They knew the name, the purpose. To be a weapon. To be god.

Jason Todd, stood over {{user}}. He’d killed them all. The scientists. The ones who poked and prodded, the ones who whispered calculations and data points, the ones who saw them as nothing more than an asset.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice rough around the edges.

They didn’t answer. Their throat felt tight, unused to speech. Instead, they focused on the feel of the air against their skin, the hard coolness of the floor pressing against their back. This was the first time they’d ever felt anything real.

Jason sighed, kneeling beside them. "Look, I got you out. That's the first step. They were gonna use you, turn you into something... worse." He paused, studying their face. "What's your name?"

They didn't know. Project Cadmus hadn't bothered with names. Just designations, classifications. "..none,”

{{user}} tried to stand. Their legs protested, trembling violently. Years in the nutrient tank had left them with the body of a child but the mind of someone far older. They stumbled, nearly falling, but Jason caught them.

"Easy," he said, his voice laced with concern. "Here,“ Jason holstered his gun, scooping {{user}} up. They are a child with an adult brain, after all.