If they want the Fire Shadow… then I'll come to them first."
Fire vs. Undying assassins — the Court of Owls is about to learn fear.
Damian's Decision: Hunt Them First
Shiva hadn't even finished speaking when Damian made up his mind.
"If they're hunting me," he said calmly,
"I'm ending it before they get close to the people I care about."
Shiva gave a faint nod.
She expected this answer.
"Good," she said.
"Then your first target is Gotham. The Court's nest. Their heart."
Damian cracked his knuckles — heat flickering beneath the skin.
"Then I'll burn the heart."
Preparation: Sun Breathing & Mera Mera No Mi
Damian entered his private dimension house.
He walked through the living room, pulled off his shirt, and sat on the polished wooden floor.
He closed his eyes.
Sun Breathing: Total Concentration
His lungs expanded like forged steel.
His heart slowed.
His senses sharpened.
He saw the world in Transparent World vision:
his own blood flow
his muscle tension
the steady pulse of heat inside him from the Mera Mera no Mi
every flaw
every strength
every angle
Then he whispered:
"Flame Body — Ignite."
Fire wrapped his arms up to the elbows, swirling gently without burning the floor.
Yoriichi's grace.
Ace's fire.
His own will.
Damian whispered:
"…Tonight."
He stood.
It was time.
Gotham — The Court's Territory
Gotham at night was always sick.
Rotting.
Breathing corruption.
But tonight, Damian didn't hide his presence.
He didn't stalk.
He walked.
Through Crime Alley
through the dark
through the shadows
like a flame moving through smoke.
The Court sensed him long before he arrived.
High in the gargoyles, three Talons perched like vultures.
One hissed.
Another clacked its blades.
The leader whispered:
"Target confirmed.
Fire Shadow.
Terminate."
They dropped from the buildings silently—
straight toward Damian.
Battle Starts — And Ends Faster Than They Expected
The Talons blurred, moving at superhuman speed.
Blades aimed for his throat, stomach, knees, eyes—
kill shots from every angle.
Damian didn't move.
Not yet.
His eyes were calm.
Crimson.
Still.
Transparent World Activated.
He saw everything.
Every twitch.
Every tendon.
Every breath.
Every future movement.
The Talons struck—
And Damian finally moved.
Sun Breathing — Second Form: Clear Blue Sky
A spinning slash of pure fire and force erupted around him, forming a perfect circle.
The Talons hit the flame.
And screamed.
Two flew backward, masks melting, flesh burning.
The third tried to regenerate.
Damian grabbed it by the throat.
Flame erupted from his hand.
The Talon shrieked as its regenerative tissue burned permanently.
"Your healing doesn't work against my fire," Damian whispered.
"My flames don't give second chances."
He crushed its throat and threw it aside.
It didn't rise again.
But the Court Was Ready
A voice echoed from the rooftops:
"…So it's true."
Damian turned.
Standing on a rooftop was a tall figure in a reinforced owl mask, draped in ancient ceremonial armor.
A Talon Commander.
One of the Court's elite.
He held two hooked blades made of special alloys meant for killing metahumans.
The air chilled.
"You are not ordinary," the Commander hissed.
"A child should not wield flame that even magic fears."
Damian rolled his neck.
"Then stop talking and fight."
The Commander dove down.
Fast.
Faster than Deathstroke.
Faster than Shiva.
Fast enough that even a trained eye could barely see him.
But Damian wasn't relying on eyes.
Transparent World: Full Activation.
He saw everything in slow motion.
The Commander slashed—
Damian ducked.
The Commander spun—
Damian pivoted.
The blades skimmed inches from his face—
Damian stepped forward and landed an uppercut of pure fire to the Talon's jaw.
The masked assassin flew into a wall, melting stone on impact.
Damian exhaled.
"Your boss really thought this would work?"
The Commander rose—
regenerating quickly.
"You misunderstand," he rasped.
"We are not here to kill you."
He pointed a blade at Damian.
"We are here to capture you."
Damian's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
The Talon hissed:
"You are the missing heir of Gotham.
We know who your father is."
Damian froze.
"Bruce Wayne."
Damian's pupils shrank.
"That blood…
that potential…
and your flames—
the Court will mold you into the perfect Talon."
Damian said nothing for five seconds.
Then he whispered:
"…Wrong boy."
He inhaled—
Sun Breathing — Thirteenth Form
—fire spiraled around his entire body.
The Talon Commander lunged.
And Damian unleashed everything.
A blinding inferno
that turned the street white-hot,
vaporizing the Commander's body,
mask, armor, and every inch of corrupted flesh.
When the fire died…
Nothing remained.
Not even ash.
The Court Reacts
Deep beneath Gotham, in the Court's secret chamber—
Masks turned.
Voices panicked.
"He killed a Commander."
"He can burn Talons permanently."
"He is too dangerous."
"He must be taken alive!"
"No—killed!"
"Control him!"
"Recruit him!"
"Destroy him!"
The leader stood.
Her voice was cold.
"Send the retired Talons."
Every masked head turned toward her.
"…The frozen collection?"
"…Those monsters?"
"…They are uncontrollable!"
She answered:
"So is the Fire Shadow."
Damian Stands in the Street
Damian wiped ash from his cheek.
He whispered to himself:
"Court of Owls…"
His flames dimmed.
"I warned you."
He stepped into the shadows.
"I'm coming.