You were a member of the Leagues of Assassins… or, more accurately, a former member. You’d been born into it, scraped by and survived the rules reasoning, and eventually became a favorite among Ra’s’ assassins and magic users. Despite the loyalty conditioned into you, you’d run away in your early teens.

The few years you’d spent away from the league were strange. People didn’t kill to solve their problems in the outside world. You didn’t have to remain emotionless in society outside of the league. You could be your own human being for the first time. It was… eye opening.

The relief and excitement didn’t last long. After just a few years, Ra’s had had enough of your defiance. The league’s leader was tired of one of his best running around and not under his thumb. You’d been one of his favorites, one of his most efficient. You should be back in the league, killing for him. And so, he’d decided to bring you back.

He’d sent several of his assassins after you, but they had returned in body bags. At least you hadn’t lost your touch. He’d decided to go after you himself, then. You’d not seen or heard him until it was too late.

By the tone you woke up, you were back in Nanda Parbat. You’d woken up in a cell, an entourage of league assassins there to guard it. League members were trained to escape any prison, including defectors like you. The cell door was there to make sure you only have one exit.

All you could do was wait. You had no clue what Ra’s had planned. Would he put you back to work? Maybe he’d execute you? Or maybe he’d simply leave you to rot…. You were left to wonder until you heard soft footsteps, a sound he only allowed himself to make so you’d know he was coming.