DC: The Man And The Hood

The early morning light stretched over the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow over the distant mountains. Jason stood atop a rocky outcrop, his eyes scanning the barren landscape below.

A chill lingered in the air, but the anticipation of the mission ahead, kept him grounded. Behind him, the rest of his small, hand-picked team of League soldiers waited in silence, their faces unreadable beneath their hoods.

The village to the east, nestled at the base of a series of jagged hills, was the target. A strategically significant outpost held by a rival faction of the League—one that had long been a thorn in Ra's side.

It was said to be heavily fortified, with soldiers occupying the central stronghold and watchmen posted around the perimeter. Civilians had been taken hostage, a key leverage point in this conflict.

Jason's task was clear: liberate the village, but do so in a way that didn't just rely on brute force. Ra's had made that perfectly clear in their training session the night before.

This wasn't about charging in and slaughtering everyone in sight; this was about tactics, and careful execution. His training was about to be tested in the most brutal way possible.

The air smelled faintly of dust, and the wind carried with it the distant sound of a river rushing over rocks.

To the west, a series of craggy hills created a natural barrier, making it nearly impossible to approach the village from that side without being spotted.

The terrain to the east, on the other hand, was more open but still rife with potential dangers. Jason's eyes narrowed as he assessed the landscape, mentally calculating the best approach.

Ra's voice broke through his thoughts. "Boy."

He turned to face his mentor, who stood beside him, his usual calm demeanor belying the intensity of the situation. Ra's was a master of patience, but he had an unspoken expectation that Jason would succeed.

The mission wasn't just a test of physical strength; it was a test of leadership, decision-making, and the ability to act under pressure.

"The village is held by the Caliphate faction," Ra's continued, his tone steady. "You will find that they are not as strong as they appear. Use that to your advantage. And remember, the key to victory lies not in overwhelming force, but in how you use your resources."

Jason nodded, his gaze never leaving the village below. He could feel the weight of the task bearing down on him. This was more than just a mission; this was his proving ground. A chance to show that he was ready to take on a greater role within the League. That he wasn't just some schizophrenic zombie brat, but a leader in his own right.

"What is the plan?" Jason asked, his voice steady but eager.

Ra's studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You have the strategy from last night. You are to approach from the eastern side. There is a narrow ravine that runs along the outer perimeter of the village.

Use that to move undetected, but be cautious—the enemy has set traps along that route. Once you reach the edge of the village, you will need to neutralize their perimeter guards before you can enter. Then, you will have to assess the situation inside. Remember, not every life is worth saving."

Jason clenched his jaw, his mind working. This wouldn't be easy. His instincts told him to rush in, to strike fast and hard, but Ra's words echoed in his mind. "Not every life is worth saving."

He didn't like that, but he knew it was a necessary part of this world. A soldier didn't have the luxury of sentimentality. It was about completing the mission, no matter the cost.

Ra's gave him one final glance before turning and walking toward the others. "You have your orders. I will be monitoring from here."

With that, Jason nodded to his team and began the descent down the rocky outcrop. The soldiers fell in line behind him, their movements swift and synchronized.

The ravine was just ahead, and the faint rustling of leaves in the wind was the only sound breaking the silence. Jason's mind was focused, calculating every step he took.

As they approached the ravine, Jason motioned for the team to halt. He crouched low, his body pressed against the ground as he peered over the lip of the ravine.

The village was still several miles away, but already Jason could see the fortified perimeter. Watchtowers rose above the rooftops, and the occasional flash of sunlight caught on the armor of the guards stationed at the gates.

The perimeter was heavily patrolled, but there were gaps in the rotation, small windows of opportunity that Jason was trained to exploit. He could see the soldiers moving in predictable patterns, their footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent air.

They were well-disciplined, but they lacked the instincts that came with true combat experience. That was where Jason had the advantage.

"Move out," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

The team moved in tandem, weaving through the ravine with the skill and precision of trained assassins. Jason led the way, his eyes constantly scanning for signs of danger.

He could feel the bloodlust stirring inside him, a dark hunger that was never far from the surface. The Lazarus Pit's influence lingered, sharpening his senses but also clouding his judgment. It was a constant battle to keep it in check, to stay focused on the mission rather than the thrill of violence.

As they neared the outer edge of the village, Jason signaled for the team to halt once more. They were within striking distance of the first perimeter guard, a lone sentry standing watch near a crumbling stone wall.

Jason's heart rate quickened as he assessed the situation. The guard had his back to them, oblivious to the approaching assassins.

Jason motioned for two of the soldiers to flank the guard while he moved in closer, his steps silent on the rocky ground. He could hear the man's breath, shallow and slow, a sign of complacency. Jason smiled darkly. This would be easy.

He moved quickly, his body a blur of motion as he approached the guard from behind. With one swift motion, he reached out and covered the man's mouth, stifling the surprised gasp before twisting his neck. The guard collapsed to the ground, dead before he had a chance to cry out.

Jason straightened, wiping blood from his hands as the other soldiers moved in to secure the body. "One down," he muttered, his voice low. "Let's keep moving."

They continued their advance, taking down guards one by one with ruthless efficiency. Jason's mind was in the zone, his every move calculated and precise.

Adrenaline coursed through him, but he kept his focus, resisting the pull of the bloodlust that threatened to consume him.

By the time they reached the inner walls of the village, the team had taken out the majority of the perimeter guards. Jason's heart was still racing, but the thrill of the hunt had dulled. He could feel Ra's watching him from afar, his presence a constant reminder of the expectations placed on him.

"This is it," Jason whispered. "We breach the inner gates, neutralize the rest of the guards, and free the hostages."

The team nodded in unison, ready for the final phase of the mission. Jason gave the signal, and they moved as one, approaching the heavily guarded gates. It was time to put everything they had learned to the test.

They struck quickly, their movements fluid and lethal. The guards at the gates were no match for the speed and precision of the League's assassins. Jason led the charge, his sword flashing in the sunlight as he cut down the first soldier in his path. The others followed suit, each soldier taking out their target with ruthless efficiency.

Jason's blood pumped faster as the fight escalated, his senses heightened by the thrill of combat. But this time, he was more in control. His movements were measured, calculated. He had learned to fight with purpose, not out of rage. It was a difficult balance, but one that he was starting to master.

As the last of the guards fell, Jason turned to face the village's central stronghold. The hostages were inside, waiting for him to free them. But he couldn't afford to be reckless now. He had to think, to plan. The mission wasn't over yet.

"Clear the building," Jason commanded, his voice steady. "We move in together, stay sharp."

The soldiers nodded, their faces masked with determination. They advanced on the stronghold, ready for whatever lay ahead. Jason's mind raced as he considered the next steps. They had succeeded so far, but the real test was still to come.

Would he be able to keep his cool when the stakes were at their highest? Would he make the right call when the lives of the hostages depended on him?

The final phase of the mission had just begun.

Jason's eyes locked onto the stronghold ahead, the looming structure casting long shadows as the sun began to dip beneath the horizon. The weight of the mission settled over him as his pulse quickened. He could hear the faint sounds of movement within the stronghold, the muffled chatter of the guards who still lingered within. Time was of the essence.

He motioned for his team to fall into a formation, each of them instinctively aligning themselves behind him as they crept closer to the entrance of the building.

The air was thick with tension, the cool breeze now carrying the faint scent of smoke from nearby fires. Jason's instincts hummed with anticipation, every step he took quiet and calculated.

The moment they entered this stronghold, they were no longer in control. The enemy would be, and he had to be ready for whatever came next.

"Stay sharp," Jason whispered, his voice barely audible.

The soldiers nodded in unison, their expressions masked by the hoods of their cloaks. Jason took the lead, eyes darting from shadow to shadow, every inch of the path ahead mapped in his mind.

His blood surged, the pull of the Lazarus Pit a constant reminder of the rage that lay beneath his skin, but he pushed it down, focusing on the mission at hand.

.....

Want more chapters? Kindly visit my p@t to read ahead pàtreøn.cøm/Da_suprememaverick