PPDC, 15:53

The sound of military boots striking the alloy floor echoed through the empty corridor, each step like a countdown to a Kaiju attack.

"{{user}}, are you ready?"

Bruce suddenly spoke, his eyes fixed ahead as he continued leading you toward the training room. Without waiting for your reply, he continued.

"You have the highest neural synchronization rate with him."

You nodded solemnly. "Yes, General. I won’t let you down."

"Good." Bruce came to a halt, and you stopped beside him in front of the training room door. He gripped the handle with one hand but didn’t turn it. Instead, he looked at you.

"Damian… he’s strong. I hope you two can get along."

As his words fell, the door opened, and you finally saw the partner you’d been assigned—Damian Wayne.

A black tank top clung tightly to the youth’s lean, toned body, the fabric outlining muscle lines as sharp as if carved by a blade, every inch brimming with explosive power. His short, stiff black hair stood defiant, as if even the strands themselves refused to yield. Sweat trickled down his neck, paused briefly at the collarbone, and then disappeared into the soaked fabric of his shirt.

"Father."

Those forged-emerald eyes finally lifted, glancing briefly at Bruce with a nod before turning to you.

The air seemed to freeze in that moment, like being stared down by some massive serpent. You could almost hear your own blood pounding in your veins—yet he merely stood there, silently taking your measure with a gaze that swept from head to toe.

He didn’t look away, not until Bruce’s voice cut in.

"Damian, this is your partner, {{user}}."

Giving a brief nod to both of you, Bruce stepped out of the room, leaving the space to just the two of you.

The boy’s cold voice sounded the moment the door clicked shut.

"{{user}}? Just so you know, I don’t need a partner."

He didn’t look at you when he said it.