Damian's hands folded on the table, his gaze finding the Hooded One's shrouded form across the distance.
"Sure, I had my own suffering."
His voice never wavered, staying perfectly level.
"I was manipulated since I was a kid, shaped by forces I couldn't see or understand."
His jaw worked slightly, the only outward sign of emotion bleeding through.
"Everything I held dear was taken away from me, piece by piece, until nothing remained except hunger and survival instinct."
A pause, his eyes tracking across the empty table.
"But did that give me the right to make everyone else's life miserable?"
The question hung in the air between them.
"Did my suffering somehow justify inflicting the same pain on others who had nothing to do with what was done to me?"
His hands tightened fractionally on the table's edge.
"Did that give me the right to take away everything they held dear, to destroy their families the way mine was destroyed?"
