The match started violently. Jason’s oppo closed the distan an instant, delivering a spinning kick aimed at Jason’s head.

  He barely raised his guard in time, but the force sent him stumbling. A follow-up punch to his sor plexus khe wind out of him, dropping him to his knees.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jason muttered through gritted teeth, clutg his abdomen. He could feel Damian’s judging stare from the sidelihe kid didn’t even bother to hide his irritation.

  Shaking off the pain, Jason pushed himself back to his feet. This time, he held his ground, waiting for his oppoo make the move.

  The man lunged forward with a ferocious punch, but Jason sidestepped just in time. Wielding his intuitive sense of muscle memory, he nded a sharp elbow to his oppo’s ribs, elig a grunt of pain.

  For a brief moment, Jaso a surge of pride. But his oppo was relentless. A brutal kruck Jason’s side, followed by a punch that ected squarely with his jaw. Blood sprayed from his split lip as he hit the ground hard.

  Fshes of memory assaulted him—blurry images of a , his manic ughter, and the crowbar that shattered his body. Rage ignited within Jason, primal and all-ing. His vision blurred, but his movements became sharper, faster.

  As his oppo leaned in to deliver another blow, Jason caught the man’s fist mid-air. The spectatasped as Jason twisted the arm with a siing crack, bone shards pierg through the skin. The man screamed in agony, but Jason wasn’t done.

  Standing at the ter, his chest heaving, eyes bzing with unbridled rage. His oppo y sprawled on the grouh him, coughing up blood as Jason drove a savage ko his ribs.

  The siing crack of bone echoed through the courtyard, and the ma out a guttural scream that was cut short as Jason pounced on him.

  Jason’s fists were a blur, smming down with relentless fury. Each punch was apanied by the wet, siing sound of breaking cartige and spttering blood.

  His lips twisted into a feral grin, the adrenaline c through his veins fueling his every strike. The victim’s face was already a ruined mess, swollen beynitio Jason didn’t stop.

  In the haze of his rage, a voice—low and gravelly—echoed in the back of his mind. It was a voice he hadn’t sciously thought of in weeks but one he couldn’t shake.

  “We do not have to go that far to stop them, otherwise we wouldn’t know when we cross the line. And then nothing will differentiate us from them."

  It was Bruce’s voice, calm yet firm, but Jason couldn’t pce it in his current state. His arm froze mid-punch for the briefest moment, as though his body hesitated to obey his bloodlust.

  The voice faded just as quickly as it came, drowned out by the pounding of his heart and the hunger for violence.

  Jason’s hesitation vanished as quickly as it appeared. He let out a guttural roar and smmed his fist down again, crushing what little remained of the man’s fabsp;

  Blood spttered across Jason’s hands, his arms, even his face. His breathing was ragged, and his body trembled—not from exhaustion, but from the sheer iy of his bloodlust.

  “Enough!”

  The sharp and cut through the chaos, but Jason didn’t register it. Ra’s al Ghul’s voice carried authority, but Jason’s primal rage drowned out everything else.

  The surrounding soldiers exged uneasy gnces but remained silent.

  He raised his fist again, preparing t it down one more time, but the League soldiers were already moving.

  Two of them rushed in, grabbing Jason by the arms and yanking him off the unsan. Jason thrashed violently in their grip, his muscles straining as he fought to break free.

  His wild eyes darted around, seeking aarget, his mind still caught in the haze of the Lazarus-induced bloodlust.

  “Jason.”

  Ra’s voice rang out again, calm but anding. It wasn’t a yell this time, but the tone carried more weight than the sharpest bde.

  Jason froze, his chest heaving as his body began tister the age around him. The two soldiers holding him looseheir grip, sensing the shift in his demeanor.

  Jason’s gaze flicked to Ra’s, standing tall on the edge of the circle. His emerald eyes burned with something akin to both disappoi and intrigue.

  The courtyard fell into silence, save for Jason’s bored breathing and the faint groans of his victim. The man’s blood pooled on the ground, seeping into the cracks betweeones.

  “Dismiss.” Ra’s announced, ending the training exercise as the soldiers dispersed in various dires, while others prepared to take the unscious soldier to the infirmary.

  Ra’s stepped forward, his boots clig softly against the stone. His hands were csped behind his back, his expression calm but unreadable.

  “What was that?” Ra’s asked, his voice as smooth as silk but carrying an undeniable edge.

  Jason swallowed hard, his fists still ched at his sides. “He wasn’t bag down,” Jason muttered, his voice rough. “I did what I had to do.”

  Ra’s raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint, humorless smile. “What you had to do? Look around you, boy. This is not a battlefield; this is training. He was already defeated, yet you tinued.”

  Jason’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his gaze falling to the blood staining his hands. “I… I don’t know what happened,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “It was like something took over. I couldn’t stop.”

  Ra’s studied him for a long moment, his pierg gaze seeming to cut straight through Jason’s defenses.

  “The Lazarus Pit is a gift, but it is not without its price,” he said, his tone measured. “It amplifies everything within you—your strength, your instincts… and ye.”

  Jason looked up, his eyes bzing. “Then why the hell did y me back with it?!”

  The question hung in the air, raw and charged.

  Ra’s tilted his head slightly, his expression unging. “Because you are valuable, boy. You are a diamond in the rough. You are a force of nature—a force I io shape and refine.”

  Jaso out a bitter ugh, shaking his head. “A force of nature? You mean a monster.”

  Ra’s stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “A monster? No. You are something far greater. But only if you learn to master yourself.”

  Jason’s gaze hardehe fire in his eyes refusing to waver. “And if I don’t?”

  Ra’s smiled faintly, the expression cold and calg. “Then you will destroy yourself—and everything around you.”

  The words sent a chill down Jason’s spine, but he refused to show weakness. He straightened, g his jaw. “I won’t let that happen.”

  Ra’s nodded approvingly. “Good. Theoday be a lessoraint is not weakness, Jason. It is strength—strength that separates the predator from the beast.”

  Jason didn’t respond, his thoughts swirling as he gnced back at the unsan being pced into a stretcher. The sight of the blood made his stomach , but he forced himself to look.

  Ra’s turned away, addressing the soldiers. “Take him to the infirmary. Ensure he is teo.”

  The soldiers moved quickly, lifting the broken man with care and carrying him out of the courtyard. Jason stood alone in the ter, his fists still stained red.

  Ra’s paused at the edge of the training grounds, gng back over his shoulder. “Tomorrow, we tinue your training. You will learn to trol the darkness within you, Jason. Or it will e you.”

  Jason didn’t respond as Ra’s disappeared into the shadows, leaving him aloh his thoughts and the cold, unyieldi of his as.

  ****

  The sun dipped below the jagged peaks of the mountain, casting the League of Assassins’ fortress in hues of gold and crimson.

  The cold wind whistled through the stone corridors, but Damian barely noticed. He had grown habituated to the chill, aced to the relentless demands of life within the League.

  His body ached from his daily climb to the summit and back, a grueling exercise meant to sharpen both his physical aal discipline. Yet, despite his exhaustion, his mind refused to rest.

  Jason face kept surfag in his thoughts. Damian couldn’t shake the memory of the young teenager’s wild, uing fury as he mercilessly beat his oppo into unsciousness earlier that day.

  It wasn’t fear that gripped Damian—he wasn’t afraid of Jason. But there was something about the raw, untamed anger Jason wielded that left him uled. It was a kind e that felt almost animalistic, primal, and urained.

  Damian’s frown deepened as he trudged through the dimly lit corridor toward his quarters, his boots eg softly against the stone floor.

  Every few steps, fshes of Jason’s unhinged expression filled his mind—his ched jaw, his wide, feral eyes. Damian shook his head, muttering under his breath.

  “Why ’t I stop thinking about it?”

  As he turned a er, the hallway leading to his mother’s chambers came into view. The ornate double doors, carved with intricate designs, were faintly illuminated by flickering torches. Damian slowed his pace, an idea f in his mind.

  ‘Mother must be back from her mission by now, he thought, gng toward the door. Maybe she’ll have some insight about him. She always knows more thas on.’

  Without hesitation, Damian veered off course, quiing his steps as he approached her chambers.

  The faint st of jasmine drifted through the cracks of the door, a st he had long associated with her. Raising his hand, he kwice, firm and deliberate.

  “Enter,” Talia al Ghul’s smooth, posed voice called from within.

  Damian pushed the door open and stepped ihout uttering a word. Warmth greeted him immediately, a stark trast to the cold stone corridors outside.

  A low fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Near a tall window, Talia stood with her ba, gazing out at the fading su. She was still dressed in her mission attire, her long bck cloak draped elegantly over her shoulders.

  “Damian,” she greeted softly without turning. “I was expeg you.”

  Damian frowned slightly, shutting the door behind him. “You always say that.

  One of these days, I’ll surprise you.”

  Talia turo face him, a faint smile grag her lips. “You are my son. There is little you do that surprises me.”

  Leaning against the doorframe, Damian studied her. She looked tired, though her sharp eyes still held their usual iy. “How was your mission?” he asked.

  She waved a hand dismissively, crossing the room to pour herself a gss of wine from a nearby deter.

  “Routine,” she said, her tone casual. “Nothing worth discussing.” She paused, gng at him with a knowing look. “But I suspect you didn’t e here to ask about my mission.”

  Damiaated, dropping his gaze briefly before meeting her eyes. “It’s about Jason,” he admitted, his tone more serious now.

  Talia’s expression remained posed, though her eyes sharpened with i. She took a sip of her wine, gesturing for him to tinue.

  “I ’t get the image of him out of my head,” Damian said, pushing off the doorframe to pace the room. “During training today, the way he grinned while violently bashing the face of his oppo—it wasn’t just bloodlust, Mother. It was something darker.”

  Setting her gss down, Talia folded her arms and watched him closely. “Jason died in an unfortunate act and in an attempt to rectify his mistake, yrandfather resurrected him with help of the Lazarus pit.”

  This came as a huge shoian as he halted his pag and turo her with a fused expression, but she ignored and tinued.

  “The prowess of the Lazarus Pit is a total mystery, even to yrandfather.” She said after a moment as Damian tio pace bad forth, trying to process the reveal.

  “What’s happening to Jason are side-effects of his resurre through the pit.” She added.

  Damian stopped pag, turning to face her once more. “You’re saying the Pit did this to him?”

  She nodded slowly. “Partially. But the Pit only amplifies what is already there. Jason’s anger, his pain, even the overwhelming bloodlust—all of it has been magnified. He is fighting a battle within himself, ohat will not be easily won.”

  Her words made sense, but they didn’t ease Damian’s unease. He saw Jason as a dao everyone around him and most of all... to himself.

  “And what if he ’t win that battle?” he asked quietly. “What if he loses himself pletely and goes on a killing spree while we sleep at night?”

  Talia stepped toward him, pg a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was firm but f.

  “Then it will be up to us to guide him,” she said resolutely. “Yrandfather sees potential in Jason, and so do I. But he must be taught to master his violent impulses, or it will e him.”

  Damian searched her face, her calm certainty both reassuring and maddening. “You really think he be saved?”

  Her expression softened, and for a moment, Damian thought he saw a flicker of hope for Jason who he saw as a lost cause. “I do,” she said. “But it will not be easy. Jason’s path is his own to walk, and he must choose to fight for his humanity.”

  Damian nodded slowly, though doubt lingered in the back of his mind as he recalled how much Jason seemed to enjoy his earlier act of insane violenbsp;

  To him Jason was an enigma, a storm barely held together by force of will. But if his mother and grandfather believed in him, perhaps there was a ce of redemption for that lost cause.

  “Thank you, Mother,” Damian said, stepping back toward the door.

  Talia returo her pce by the window, her gaze drifting back to the darkening horizon. “Goodnight, Damian,” she said softly.

  As Damia her chambers and made his way back to his own, he couldn’t shake the questions swirling in his mind. Could Jason truly overe the darkness within him? et ed by it. The thought stayed with him long into the night.