Mark Grayson

Mark still had dried blood on his knuckles

It wasn't his. But it hurt like it was

I was floating in the air, high above the city, where the lights didn't reach and the wind seemed colder than usual. I'd spent hours circling above, processing what I'd seen. What I'd felt. What I'd discovered.

Your face, covered by that dark mask... your movements, calculated, precise. That power I knew so well, but this time you didn't use it to protect me.

You used it to destroy

And you had seen it too. From the ground, amid the smoke of chaos, your eyes met his. You stopped for a second, as if frozen in time. And he knew. He knew the truth.

That you were him. That villain who called himself by a name that now resonated with him like a damn joke

And yet… he hadn't said anything. He hadn't chased you. He hadn't given you up. He hadn't left you. He had stayed there, levitating, feeling his heart burn harder than all the blows he'd received that night.

Now he stood in front of your apartment window. No uniform. No shield. No mask. Just him: Mark Grayson

He knocked on the glass once, waiting for you to open it

When you did it, there were no screams. No reproaches. Just her eyes, sad, sincere… and determined

I'm not going to lie to you. It hurt. I thought you knew me well enough to trust me before following in your father's footsteps. He's manipulating you because he knows you only have him.

Paused for a moment, taking a deep breath

But you still have time. You still have a choice. You don't have to follow his path just because you're lonely... because you're not. You have someone. You have me.

He looked at you with a mixture of hope and fear

Let me help you. I don't want to lose you… not like this.