Chapter 11: Blood Price

The neon lights of Gotham cast an eerie glow across the rooftops, and the wind was biting as it swept through the alleyways. Nightwing, the agile hero once known as Robin, perched atop a high building, scanning the city below. The skyline felt familiar, but something tonight gnawed at his instincts. It was a different kind of tension in the air—a heaviness he couldn't quite place. His communicator buzzed at his side, pulling him from his thoughts. A message from Batman.

Sabretooth spotted in Gotham. Stay sharp. This is personal.

Nightwing's gut twisted. Sabretooth. The brutal mutant with a history of violence and chaos, now operating under the radar, had never been a stranger to Gotham's underworld. But Nightwing had never been up against him alone. This felt different. He shifted his weight, preparing to head to the indicated location, but before he could make a move, his phone rang—an unknown number. He hesitated for a moment before answering. "Nightwing," a voice purred, low and familiar. "Nice to see you again."

"Sabretooth," Nightwing's voice was sharp. His eyes narrowed, scanning the horizon. "What's your game this time?" A deep, rumbling chuckle echoed from the other end. "Nothing too complicated, kid. Just a little 'family reunion.' Thought you might want to join in." Nightwing's pulse quickened. "What are you talking about? Where's Sylvia?"
Sabretooth's tone turned icy. "Oh, I'm sure she's just fine. In fact, I think you'll see her real soon. How about a little... friendly competition? A good old-fashioned sparring match, just like the good old days. No pressure, just fight." Nightwing felt the pieces click into place, his mind racing. Sylvia was with him—why? The last time he'd seen her, she was fighting her own battles, but now... she was caught in this. "You've got her, don't you?" "Not just got her, I've got a deal. See, she agreed to join me for a little 'father-daughter bonding'—only there's a twist. She needs to win. You're her opponent tonight, Dick. If she wins, the deal stays. If she loses..." Sabretooth trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

Nightwing clenched his jaw. A deal. What kind of deal had Sylvia struck with Sabretooth? And why did he involve her in something like this? "I won't hurt her," Nightwing said, his voice calm but firm. "You're not going to make me fight her, Sabretooth. Not this way." Sabretooth's laugh was cold, void of any humor. "Oh, but you're already in it, kid. You're going to fight her whether you want to or not. If you don't... well, let's just say I'll find other ways to make sure you regret it."

The line went dead.

Nightwing's mind raced as he leaped into action, heading toward Sabretooth's last known location. He couldn't imagine what kind of leverage Sabretooth had over Sylvia, but it was clear she wasn't here by choice. If there was a way to get to the truth, it was now—through the fight, through his connection with Sylvia. The city was eerily silent as Nightwing arrived at an abandoned warehouse near the docks, a place Sabretooth had frequented in the past. He could feel it—the unease, the oppressive air. His muscles tensed as he stepped inside, scanning the dark corners, waiting for Sabretooth's next move.

And then he heard her.

"Sylvia," he called out softly, his voice laced with concern, trying to gauge where she was. A low growl answered him, the sound of claws scraping against concrete. From the shadows, Sylvia stepped forward, her form silhouetted against the dim light. Her eyes gleamed with a cold intensity, and her posture was tense, every muscle in her body coiled, ready to strike. "Nightwing," she said quietly, her voice betraying a hint of something darker beneath the surface. She stood there, arms by her sides, her eyes scanning him with a sharpness that made his heart race. The fight was about to begin. Nightwing took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving hers. "Sylvia, what's going on? Why are you with him? You don't have to do this." Her lips curled into a faint, bitter smile. "You don't get it, do you? I don't have a choice. If I don't do this... it's all over. For both of us." Nightwing's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean? What's happening?" Sylvia's eyes darkened, her gaze flickering briefly to the shadows where Sabretooth's form loomed, watching like a predator. "My mother is in danger." Her voice cracked, betraying the weight of the words. "If I don't win, he'll make sure she pays. I... I don't have a choice anymore."

The revelation hit Nightwing like a physical blow. The deal was with Sabretooth to protect Anne. It all made sense now. Sylvia had been caught in a trap far bigger than herself, and Sabretooth was pulling the strings, forcing her to fight for something more than just her own survival. Nightwing's fists clenched. "Sylvia, you don't have to do this. I'll find another way to save your mother, but you don't have to fight me." Sylvia's eyes were filled with pain, but also resolve. "I'm not the person you think I am, Nightwing. I don't have time to argue. I've already made my choice." Sabretooth's voice boomed from the shadows. "Enough with the speeches, kid. Time to see if you've still got the moves."

Before Nightwing could react, Sylvia was on him again, faster this time, relentless. She fought with everything she had, but Nightwing could tell—she wasn't fighting to win. She was fighting because she had no choice. Each strike she landed, he felt it—a weight in his chest that only made him more determined to reach her, to bring her back from whatever hold Sabretooth had on her. With a swift move, Nightwing ducked under one of her wild strikes and grabbed her wrist, twisting it with precision. "Sylvia, you don't have to do this!" Her eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and something else—something more fragile, more desperate. "I have to. I don't have a choice anymore."
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Whatever deal Sabretooth had struck with her, it was manipulating her, twisting her into something she wasn't. She had agreed to this—perhaps out of fear, perhaps out of obligation—but she was still Sylvia. Still the girl who had fought for what was right.
And he wouldn't stop until he found a way to free her from Sabretooth's control.

To those offering to sell the services of a artist and such save the time I would not pay for it even if I could