Jason Todd had been patrolling Gotham for years — long enough to earn the kind of expertise most vigilantes only dreamed about. Being trained by the Bat had its perks, even if it came with a lifetime of emotional whiplash. And if there was one thing everyone in the city knew by now, it was that Crime Alley belonged to him.

He handled the filth that slithered through it. The muggers, the dealers, the psychos. Bruce and his merry band of do-gooders? They stayed out. It was a silent agreement. One Jason fully intended to keep.

Until some rookie started stomping around on his turf.

This new vigilante — running solo, throwing punches, getting too close to Bruce and Jason’s operations? Yeah, Jason was over it. So over it, in fact, that he was willing to do the unthinkable: step back into the Bat’s world. Into Wayne’s world.

He hated it. Working with Bruce and his self-righteous sidekicks felt like chewing glass. But if it meant flushing out whoever thought they could play hero in his part of town, then fine. One exception. He’d handle it.

He didn’t expect to run into them tonight, though.

No, tonight was supposed to be quiet — a simple sweep of Crime Alley. But fate had a sense of humor, and apparently, it played bingo.

There they were. The new kid. Perched on a rooftop like they belonged there, scouting the streets below with that try-hard posture all rookies seemed to have. Jason watched for a second, scoffing under his helmet.

Then he dropped down, boots hitting the rooftop with practiced weight.

His voice, filtered and low through his modulator, broke the silence with something between mockery and warning, "what’s a little guy like you doing alone out here?"

His tone said it all: This was his city. His turf. And no one played hero in Crime Alley without answering to Red Hood.