(DC Multiverse Adventures)
"-even with his parties and his playboy act-"
Zoya starts chuckling out of nowhere then proceeds to laugh quietly.
Dick looks at her. "What?"
She shakes her head. "Nothing."
"No, what?" He presses.
She pressed her lips tog...
Summary: When in the Asylum, Zoya has faced darker nightmares.
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The suffocating scent of chemicals stung Zoya's nostrils as her vision swam. Her arms and legs were bound tightly to the cold steel gurney, and the dim, flickering fluorescent light above her made the room feel like a nightmare given form.
The drugs coursed through her veins, trying to unravel her mind, trying to drown her in illusions of fear and despair. For a moment, it almost succeeded. Memories flashed like jagged shards of glass-faces she could not save, the blinding light of fire, and the crushing guilt of choices she had to make.
She shut her eyes tightly, but the visions came anyway.
Zoya was back in Nanda Parbat, standing in the endless shadow of the Pit. The stench of death and the chill of despair were overwhelming. In her hand was a blade, slick with blood. Bodies littered the ground around her, faceless enemies she had defeated during her time under Ra's al Ghul's cruel tutelage.
Then the scene shifted, sharper, crueler.
Nyssa stood before her, bloodied but defiant, as the last follower of Ra's lunged. Zoya reached out to stop him, but her feet felt rooted to the ground. Helpless, she watched as Nyssa dispatched the assassin in a final, desperate move. But her victory was fleeting.
"Nyssa!" Zoya's voice was raw with anguish as her sister collapsed, the light leaving her eyes. She ran to her, cradling her sister's lifeless body as guilt and grief consumed her.
"You failed her," A voice whispered, dark and venomous.
"No," Zoya muttered, shaking her head against the vision.
The shadows grew thicker, and the voice multiplied, hissing accusations from every corner of her mind. You could have saved her. You didn't. You're no better than your father.
"No," Zoya said again, louder this time. Her breaths came faster as she wrestled against the straps binding her to the gurney.
The drugs tried to drag her back into the nightmare, but she refused to drown in it.
"I did everything I could," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I've made peace with this."
The shadows recoiled slightly, but the vision didn't let go. Now, she saw herself wielding the blade again, striking down nameless enemies. The pool of blood grew larger and larger until it reflected her own haunted face.
"You're a monster," the voice accused.
The whispers grew louder and louder that her ears felt like they were bleeding. In the past, she would've believed the voices. The echoes reminder her of what she did, of what she is.
But the past when then.
Not now.
"I'm not," Zoya snapped, fire sparking in her voice. "I did what I had to do. I made the choices I could live with-even if it meant losing everything. I am not my father, and I never will be."
