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He was a new player in Gotham’s underground, and he was brutal. Not with the chaotic glee of the Joker, nor the cold efficiency of Black Mask. This was surgical. He carved out territory from rival gangs with military precision, executing lieutenants in their penthouses, and flooding the streets with a new, potent strain of drugs cut with venom. He wore a leather jacket and a full-face helmet—crimson, featureless, except for two opaque white lenses. When he spoke, his voice was digitally scrambled, but the cadence… the rage… felt familiar.
Batman stood amid the flames, silhouetted like a fallen angel.
"You chose him. Next time, I won’t give you a choice."
Batman remembered every detail: the crowbar, the warehouse, the explosion that turned a fifteen-year-old boy’s laughter into silence. He had stood in the ashes, holding a shredded uniform, and made a vow. No more Robins. The pain was too sharp a tool to give to a child. batman under the red hood
Batman’s hand went to his belt. "Put the gun down, Jason."
"Who are you?" Batman asked, scanning the helmet’s seams.
Batman had failed him. Not by letting him die. But by refusing to avenge him. The Red Hood’s plan crystallized not as revenge on Batman, but as a lesson. He systematically dismantled Black Mask’s empire, not to rule, but to create a vacuum. Then he made his move. He kidnapped the Joker. He was a new player in Gotham’s underground,
"So I’m going to fix it," Jason continued. "I’m going to do what you should have done the first night. I’m going to end him. And then you and I are going to have a conversation about who really failed this city."
"Look at him, Bruce," Jason said, gesturing to the Joker. "He hasn’t changed a bit. Still laughing. Still breathing. You want to know why I’m doing this? It’s not about the drugs or the territory. It’s about math."
Years ago, Ra’s al Ghul, the Demon’s Head, had been intrigued by Batman’s grief. To curry favor, he had used a Lazarus Pit—a mystical resurrection pool—to restore Jason Todd to life. But resurrection had a cost. The Pit’s green fire heals the body but scalds the soul. Jason clawed his way out of the earth, feral and confused. He wandered Gotham’s streets for a year, a ghost without a memory, until Talia al Ghul found him and helped him rebuild. She trained him, sharpened his fury into a weapon. And when he finally remembered everything—the crowbar, the warehouse, the laughter of the Joker—he understood one terrible truth. He carved out territory from rival gangs with
"Someone you let die."
Batman first faced him atop a chemical processing plant. The Red Hood had just thrown a corrupt businessman off the roof—not to kill him, but to watch Batman dive and save him. As Batman grappled back up, the Hood was waiting.
But some stains never come out.
"The way I see it, Bruce, you have two choices," Jason said, panting. "Let me kill him, and we walk away. Or stop me. But if you stop me… you have to do it permanently. Because I will never stop. I will break out of every prison. I will hunt him to the ends of the earth. And every time you save him, you’re choosing a monster over a son."
He was a new player in Gotham’s underground, and he was brutal. Not with the chaotic glee of the Joker, nor the cold efficiency of Black Mask. This was surgical. He carved out territory from rival gangs with military precision, executing lieutenants in their penthouses, and flooding the streets with a new, potent strain of drugs cut with venom. He wore a leather jacket and a full-face helmet—crimson, featureless, except for two opaque white lenses. When he spoke, his voice was digitally scrambled, but the cadence… the rage… felt familiar.
Batman stood amid the flames, silhouetted like a fallen angel.
"You chose him. Next time, I won’t give you a choice."
Batman remembered every detail: the crowbar, the warehouse, the explosion that turned a fifteen-year-old boy’s laughter into silence. He had stood in the ashes, holding a shredded uniform, and made a vow. No more Robins. The pain was too sharp a tool to give to a child.
Batman’s hand went to his belt. "Put the gun down, Jason."
"Who are you?" Batman asked, scanning the helmet’s seams.
Batman had failed him. Not by letting him die. But by refusing to avenge him. The Red Hood’s plan crystallized not as revenge on Batman, but as a lesson. He systematically dismantled Black Mask’s empire, not to rule, but to create a vacuum. Then he made his move. He kidnapped the Joker.
"So I’m going to fix it," Jason continued. "I’m going to do what you should have done the first night. I’m going to end him. And then you and I are going to have a conversation about who really failed this city."
"Look at him, Bruce," Jason said, gesturing to the Joker. "He hasn’t changed a bit. Still laughing. Still breathing. You want to know why I’m doing this? It’s not about the drugs or the territory. It’s about math."
Years ago, Ra’s al Ghul, the Demon’s Head, had been intrigued by Batman’s grief. To curry favor, he had used a Lazarus Pit—a mystical resurrection pool—to restore Jason Todd to life. But resurrection had a cost. The Pit’s green fire heals the body but scalds the soul. Jason clawed his way out of the earth, feral and confused. He wandered Gotham’s streets for a year, a ghost without a memory, until Talia al Ghul found him and helped him rebuild. She trained him, sharpened his fury into a weapon. And when he finally remembered everything—the crowbar, the warehouse, the laughter of the Joker—he understood one terrible truth.
"Someone you let die."
Batman first faced him atop a chemical processing plant. The Red Hood had just thrown a corrupt businessman off the roof—not to kill him, but to watch Batman dive and save him. As Batman grappled back up, the Hood was waiting.
But some stains never come out.
"The way I see it, Bruce, you have two choices," Jason said, panting. "Let me kill him, and we walk away. Or stop me. But if you stop me… you have to do it permanently. Because I will never stop. I will break out of every prison. I will hunt him to the ends of the earth. And every time you save him, you’re choosing a monster over a son."