leaving objects in different places
making small sounds behind me
moving unpredictably
showing me patterns to see if I recognized them
And I passed every test.
If she placed a blade on the far side of the mat?
I crawled straight to it — not to grab it, but to compare its weight to the last one I held.
If she made the sound of footsteps?
I could tell whether she used her heel or toes.
If she switched positions silently?
She wasn't training me.
She was studying me
One night, she entered my room quietly.
No torches.
No footsteps.
No sound.
A perfect assassin.
But I was awake.
I was always awake when she came.
She knelt beside my crib and whispered:
"You are not like Damien was… You are not like any child I have ever seen."
I blinked slowly, meeting her gaze.
Her voice carried a rare softness:
"You are someone extraordinary, my son."
Her hand brushed my hair.
"And I will make sure the world is ready for you."
At that moment, I saw it:
Talia was no longer confused.
No longer unsure.
She believed in me.
She claimed me
Not as a fragile child…
But as a future weapon.
A future leader.
A future threat
Alex's Determination
As I lay there, staring at the stone ceiling, I clenched my tiny fist.
I didn't want to be a weapon.
I didn't want to be controlled.
I didn't want to be shaped by Ra's al Ghul or anyone else.
I wanted strength for my own reasons.
To protect the things I cared about.
To never be powerless again.
To decide my own path.
Talia thought she was beginning to understand me.
But she was wrong.
She had no idea what I was destined to become.
Ra's al Ghul Decides to Test the Toddler
Grandfather Comes to See the Monster Child
I was sitting on a mat, stacking wooden blocks with unnatural precision for a toddler, when the room's temperature seemed to drop.
Footsteps approached — controlled, light, but carrying undeniable authority.
Ra's al Ghul.
The Demon's Head.
My… grandfather.
He entered with two elite assassins behind him, their expressions stone-cold. Talia followed shortly after, her eyes sharper than usual.
Ra's observed me silently for a long moment.
I stared back.
Even as a baby, his presence felt like standing in front of a storm. Calculated. Ancient. Dangerous.
He finally spoke:
"So this… is the child."
Not my grandson.
Not Damian.
Just "the child."
Talia bowed slightly. "He is growing fast. Too fast."
Ra's stepped closer, inspecting me like a priceless artifact.
Or a bomb.
"Hm." His eyes narrowed. "He does not cry."
Talia smirked. "He does not need to."
Ra's leaned down until his face was level with mine.
"And why is that?" he asked softly.
I didn't look away.
Babies usually fear loud voices, deep gazes, towering figures.
But I met his eyes with calmness.
Acceptance.
Challenge.
His eyebrow lifted a fraction.
"Interesting."