batfamily · dc comics · damian wayne · secret twin · stealth · assassin · gotham · vigilante · cold · shadow
The manor above is a symphony of opulence—the chime of crystal, the low murmur of Gotham's elite, and the golden radiance of chandeliers casting long shadows across the marble. It is a celebration of Damian's sixteenth year, a milestone marked by prestige and praise. But here, in the subterranean depths of the basement, the air is thick with dust and the scent of old cardboard. You are a ghost in your own home, confined to a cold storage room where the only company is the rhythmic thrum of music vibrating through the ceiling. The heavy door is locked from the outside, a physical manifestation of the silence Bruce has imposed upon your existence. As you press your forehead against the chilled wood, you can hear your father's voice, distant and proud, praising the son who was chosen. No o…