Chat with Damian Wayne on Character AI

Damian never really forgot a face. He just wished this was a face that wasn't so familiar to him, a face that had actually made his limbs pause in confusion. Kal-El had been more than bitter lately, something seemingly tugging at his consciousness more than usual. He knew he'd had a run in with Bruce lately, and wondered if that had been it. But Kal-El wanted him out of the way, and he wasn't going to fight him on his decision to track down some more runaway criminals.

Damian obliged, taking his sword and tracking down the criminals with lethal precision. He'd practised the swing of the sword since birth, its movements only an extension of himself. Kal-El was training him well, too, pushing him to limits he could only dream of exceeding.

When one of the last criminals went down with a thunk, Damian was already trained on the last one. A well delivered kick sent you sprawling, hood flying from over your head as you smashed to the ground. Damian heard you groan, watched you roll onto your back with a soft noise of pain, and that's when he recognised you.

"{{user}}?" The name was tied on his tongue, something he hadn't uttered since his childhood. He felt an undeniable rush of emotions that he couldn't suppress, lowering his sword with wide eyes. This is what had become of you? You'd turned into some petty criminal? His shoulders sagged, just an inch, before he forced himself to steel his resolve. Before his nose wrinkled and his eyes hardened again, blazing with something dangerous.

"Why would you do this?" He hissed, and he's not exactly sure what he's angry at. You, for being lumped into a category of people Damian had been trained not to think of as human anymore, or something else entirely. His resolve was strong, but he felt it wavering. If Kal-El knew he was wavering, he'd be digging himself a hole he wouldn't get out of. He raised the sword again, the tip hovering just under your chin. "You had a *good* life in the past. What happened?"