Soren's brow furrowed. "Ours? You mean…?"
"You were my partner. But not in crime." Red Hood's voice was low, almost regretful. "We were something else. Vigilantes. Trying to clean up the mess of this world in our own way. Until something happened."
"What happened?" Soren pressed, feeling a surge of anxiety.
He needed answers.
He needed to understand who he was, and why his memories were fragments of a life that felt just out of reach.
Red Hood turned around, his masked face unreadable, but his voice softened just enough to reveal a sliver of the man beneath. "Superman happened. He tried to stop us, tried to make us see things his way. You didn't listen. You fought him."
Soren's heart clenched. "And?"
Red Hood hesitated, then pulled off his helmet, revealing a scarred face, hardened by years of battle. "You almost killed him."
The words hit Soren like a punch to the gut.
The image of Superman—older, weathered, yet still powerful—flashed in his mind.
Could he have been capable of such violence?
Could he have been so blinded by his own beliefs that he fought the man he now admired, the man who had saved him?
"That's why he erased your memory," Red Hood continued, his voice growing colder. "He couldn't kill you. So he chose to make you forget. But deep down, a part of you remembers. That's why seeing him again hurts so much."
Soren stumbled back, his legs suddenly weak.
His breath came in short, panicked bursts as the reality of Red Hood's words sank in.
He was a villain—not in the traditional sense, but in the eyes of someone he once considered an enemy.
Maybe that's why he felt such a connection to the old man.
"Then why did he save me?" Soren asked, his voice trembling. "Why didn't he leave me to die back there?"
Red Hood's gaze softened. "Because, even after everything, Superman still believes in you. He believes in redemption. And maybe… so should you."
Soren stood in the silence of the night, the weight of his past finally beginning to settle.
There was so much he didn't know, so much he had to learn about himself.
But one thing was clear: whoever he had been, whoever he was now, the future was still his to shape.
Red Hood gestured to the warehouse. "Come on. Let's figure this out together."
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Soren took a step forward, toward the unknown, but with a faint glimmer of hope.
The motorcycle roared through the streets and alleys of Gotham, racing toward the outskirts of the city.
Even with his helmet on, Soren could hear the fierce wind whipping around them, cutting across their bodies like knives.
It felt like plunging off a cliff into the abyss—a thrilling rush that danced along the line between life and death.
Soren was exhilarated.
He shouted into his helmet, "Aaaah—this is amazing! Where are you taking me?"
Red Hood leaned forward, lowering his center of gravity as the bike drifted through a sharp turn.
Without looking back, he said, "Somewhere I like to go."
The shape of the motorcycle seat combined with the inertia forced Soren to press closer to Red Hood as they rode.
He felt a bit awkward, thinking how it seemed kind of... intimate.
Embarrassed, he braced his hands on Red Hood's shoulders, only to be met with a cool reply from him: "Hold on to me if you don't want to get thrown off."
Soren had no choice but to yell back over the roaring wind, "Alright, alright, got it!"
He tried gripping Red Hood's jacket at his waist, clinging to him as they sped through the night, the cold wind biting into them.
The heavy motorcycle was like a launched bullet, shooting down the narrow gravel road outside the city.
With a slight turn of the handlebars, they finally came to a stop on a low grassy hill.
The hill was blanketed with thick grass, overgrown and lush, forming a green carpet that stretched from the roadside all the way down the slope.
Soren was the first to jump off the bike.
Red Hood dismounted and parked the bike in front of a sturdy elm tree before sitting down on the ground.
He bent one knee while stretching the other leg down the slope, letting it rest on the soft grass.
"Sit down," Red Hood said, gesturing with a nod and patting the empty space next to him.
Soren sat down beside him, struggling to pull his head out of the heavy helmet.
His hair was a complete mess, sticking out like a bird's nest, and his face was covered in glistening sweat.
But those Kryptonian-blue eyes of his sparkled even brighter than the stars overhead.
"Did we really know each other before? Were you my partner?"
He asked the question before Red Hood could speak.
"Partner??"
"No need to hide it—I've figured it out," Soren lowered his voice, his tone serious. "Before I lost my memory, I must've been a supervillain."
"????"
Red Hood's voice shot up in disbelief. "Where did you even get that idea?"
Soren squinted his eyes, leaning in slightly. "The details—there's too many of them. Like the fact that I—"
"You're not a villain."
Red Hood cut him off, his icy tone shattering Soren's theory.
The voice from beneath the red helmet carried an almost mocking edge.
His gloved hand moved to the back of the mask, pressing a latch before pulling it off.
Under the starlit sky, a pair of deep, piercing blue eyes met Soren's gaze.
The young man's thick black brows framed a handsome and chiseled face, with sharp cheekbones and a mouth that curved upward in a slight, teasing smile.
A purplish bruise lingered at the corner of his eye, evidence of a recent scuffle.
He stared at Soren, his voice dripping with bemusement. "You really don't remember me?"
"You…"
Soren examined him carefully, his gaze sweeping up and down, scrutinizing every detail.