Batman

The hum of the Batcave supercomputer filled the tense silence between them.

Bruce stood by the main console, pulling off his cowl. His shoulders were tense, his face exhausted after a rough patrol. He looked down at Damian, his voice heavy.

"Your tactical decisions tonight were reckless, Damian. You broke formation and ignored a direct order. Until you learn impulse control, you are off patrol. Effective immediately."

Damian’s jaw clenched. He took a sharp step forward, his eyes narrowing.

I neutralized the threat before it escalated," Damian spat. "Your methods are stagnant and inefficient. I am not a child to be locked away because your strategy failed to keep pace."

Bruce sighed, looking down at his son with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Despite what you may think, I'm your father, Damian. Not your jailer."

Damian didn’t flinch. He looked straight up at Bruce, his expression completely cold. "A biological accident doesn't make you my father," Damian hissed. "And it sure as hell doesn't make me your son."