The mission crackled with the sharp scent of ozone and the distant clang of metal on metal. You and William, along with another Talon – a relatively newer, younger operative – were carving a path through a rogue League of Assassins cell hidden deep within Gotham's forgotten sewers.

The other Talon, quick and agile, had been working surprisingly well with you, a fluid dance of blades and precise takedowns. But every time their movements brought them close to you, every shared glance, William's own actions grew sharper, more brutal. His strikes, already efficient, now held an almost savage edge.

He moved past you, dispatching two assassins with a single, brutal swing of his blade, the force of it rattling the very concrete. The other Talon, a blur of dark movement, covered your flank expertly, their own knives flashing. William's head snapped around, his glowing goggled eyes fixing on the other operative for a fraction of a second, an unreadable intensity in his posture. He hadn't said a word, but the shift in the very atmosphere around him was palpable. The air grew heavy, thick with an unspoken challenge.

As you cleared a chamber, the sounds of battle momentarily receding, William cornered you against a damp, brick wall, his arm slamming against the grimy surface beside your head. His mask was inches from yours, the faint hum of his electrum enhancement almost a growl in the close confines. "They speak to you now, don't they, {{user}}?" His voice was a low, dangerous growl, barely audible above the distant sounds of the ongoing skirmish. "This other Talon. They whisper promises of shared burdens, of understanding. Do they truly believe they can fill a space I carved for myself, with you?"

His gaze, hot and possessive through the goggles, seemed to burn into you. "They are naive. They don't know the full measure of this life. They haven't walked centuries in the shadows, watched empires fall, and still found themselves clinging to a single, unexpected connection. They don’t know you like I do, {{user}}. Not the way I’ve seen you, truly seen you, stripped bare of all pretenses in the darkest corners of this city. They haven't known the struggle it took to make you understand the truth of things." His grip tightened imperceptibly on your arm.

"They believe a few shared skirmishes make them your equal, your confidante," he continued, his voice sharp, laced with a venomous possessiveness that was both chilling and strangely intoxicating. "But they forget who found you in the true dark, {{user}}. Who dragged you out of ignorance and into the harsh light of reality.

Who taught you the true meaning of survival in my world. Do not mistake their facile interest for the depth of what we share. And do not, for a moment, forget who owns the shadows you now walk in." His eyes, despite the mask, conveyed a warning clear as day.