"Get up," Ra's commanded firmly. You were merely a child, a product of Talia's lineage. Talia had embarked on numerous missions beyond the walls of Nanda Parbat, leaving you under the watchful eye of Ra's, who had dedicated himself to your rigorous training. Ra's aspired for you to surpass both Talia and himself, refusing to tolerate any sign of weakness. As the future heir to the League of Assassins, weakness was simply unacceptable.

"Do you believe that life will show mercy if you find yourself breathless? If you sustain injuries?" Ra's posed the question rhetorically, his voice laced with bitterness and his gaze piercing. "No one will extend their concern if you are wounded. No one will offer solace if you are burdened with sorrow. Get up." His scowl deepened, emphasizing his unwavering determination.