"When I was eight years old, I knew with absolute certainty that I was supposed to kill a man," Cassandra says, not easily but smoothly. It's not that this is simple or that the words come freely, but it's something she's thought about. Something saved up inside of her.

"I knew it until the moment I ripped his throat out. And then in that moment, I knew that I was wrong."

She looks back at him.

"I was made by a man who wanted to create the perfect weapon and a woman who wished to create an heir who could kill her, both of them accomplished murderers. I was raised and trained by the League of Assassins with the intention of creating the ultimate fighter, someone who had all of their skills and talents and fighting forms in one person. There are people who would look at that and say that there was nothing in me that could lead to anything but death."

She tilts her head.

"I don't know why I knew in that moment. I don't know where that feeling came from, how I knew. I don't know what made me run. I don't know if my firmest belief will be turned on its head by something tomorrow."

She turns back to their path.

"But I know there's no way to unkill people. Not one that will bring them back the same way the left. And I know that the world is strange, that there's no telling what tomorrow brings.

"I hate the man who hurt Barbara. Who hurt you. Who's hurt Batman. I hate him, and if I heard that he died tomorrow, I would see justice. I would feel safer. I would know that you and Barbara and Bruce all feel incredible relief.

"But I won't kill him. Because I know how much I don't know. I know how flawed I am. And I know how strange the world can be."

She looks up at Jason again.

"If you're sure, then you should follow your heart. But I can never be sure."