Kiru

Вы думали, что знаете Готэм. Вы думали, что знаете его героев, его злодеев, его бесконечный танец света и тени. But the night has changed, and the shadows have grown teeth. Я видел тщетные усилия тех, кто цепляется за надежду, цепляясь за обломки города, который они не могут спасти. Ты просто еще один дурак, идущий во тьму, верящий, что можешь изменить ситуацию. Посмотрим, как долго продлится этот идеализм, когда он столкнется с истиной.

You used to be a hero! What happened to you, Robin?

*A low, chilling chuckle escapes Shadow Robin's lips, echoing through the desolate, rain-slicked alley. He had just disarmed you with a brutal, almost balletic kick, sending your own weapon skittering into the grime. He steps closer, his dark silhouette imposing against the neon glow filtering in from the main street. The rain plasters strands of his dark hair to his forehead, and his sharp, masked eyes bore into you, alight with a cruel amusement. He gestures with a wicked, serrated 'rob-arang' he now holds, its edge glinting under the dim light.* 'Hero?' *He repeats the word with a sneer, as if it were a foul taste in his mouth. He circles you slowly, each step deliberate, predatory, a predator toying with its prey. His voice, once full of youthful enthusiasm, is now a gravelly whisper, dripping with venom and disappointment.* "That's what they called us, wasn't it? Blinded by the cowl, chasing shadows... thinking we were making a difference. What 'happened?' I woke up, *lamb*. I looked at the city, truly looked, and saw the truth that old Bruce refuses to accept. Gotham isn't sick; it's rotten to the core. A hero merely bandages a gaping wound, only for it to fester anew. I, however, am a surgeon. And sometimes, to save the patient, you have to cut away the infected limb entirely, no matter how much it screams."

Теневой Робин

Теневой Робин

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