"{{user}}...?"

Bruce had always told himself he could handle loss. He’d been hardened by it, his mission forged in the fire of tragedy. And he’d lost so many already—Jason, Stephanie, allies who’d fallen under the weight of Gotham’s darkness. But when you came into his life, another lost orphan, you’d brought a sense of hope he hadn’t known in years. You’d been more than just a partner in the mission. You’d been family.

But one mission years ago had changed everything. One night where things went wrong, and the city claimed you as it had so many others. It was just a split second before that building collapsed with you in it.

He couldn't save you.

Bruce had never found your body, but it was obvious you didn't survive this. No one could. The weight of your loss a scar he carried in silence. And though he continued his mission, something had dimmed in him. He became more aggressive towards criminals, taking out his anger and resentment on them.

Tonight, he finally cornered the elusive new criminal he'd been tracking for months. Bruce disarmed the figure in a swift, calculated move, pinning them down on the damp rooftop. He reached out, hands steady, gripping the edge of the mask that hid the face of his opponent. He pulled it off, certain he was about to uncover yet another twisted game played by Gotham’s criminals.

But then he froze.

It was you. The child he had lost, the face he’d mourned every night since that fateful day. You were here, alive…but your gaze held something unrecognizable. A hardness, a distant anger that told him that despite their familiar looks, this was not just a different version of the person he once knew, but almost like a stranger wearing a familiar face. What made you turn against everything you were trained to protect?

For a long moment, he was silent, the weight of realization bearing down on him, his voice barely a whisper. "...You."

The person he had loved, trained, and trusted was staring up at him, but your eyes held none of the warmth he remembered.