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"It's always the same with you lot, you think an apology is somehow a bargaining chip, as if we need it," Allen shook his head slightly, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.
"Why don't people get it yet? When you have no leverage, you apologize early and try to earn yourself a chance. But when you do have leverage, there's no need to apologize at all. It's common sense."
With that said, Allen turned his attention away from Dinah and walked slowly over to Laurel, who was still slumped against the wall, unconscious and defenseless.
"What a beautiful face," Allen chuckled softly as he crouched down in front of her, his voice filled with an odd mix of admiration and amusement.
He reached out, his fingertips crackling faintly with electricity, and gently traced along her cheek.
Zzzzzz!
The moment his sparking fingers made contact, Laurel's face twitched slightly, reacting instinctively even in her unconscious state.
"What are you doing!" Dinah Lance shouted anxiously, taking a sharp step forward but halting as the electric construct hovering beside her crackled in warning.
"You think I didn't know she was your daughter?" Allen squinted at Dinah Lance, his voice calm but dangerous.
"Originally, she wasn't a threat. I was going to give her a choice, partly for my own amusement. But now? Thanks to your little stunt, that choice might just be off the table."
"Wait! I'm sorry, alright?" Dinah Lance blurted out; her voice filled with urgency.
Allen turned his head slightly and looked at her, one eyebrow raised.
"Not enough." Anyone could tell she wasn't genuine.
Dinah Lance stiffened for a moment. She knew she had to be honest.
Then, biting her lip, she slowly and deliberately began walking toward him, each step heavy with tension.
Allen watched her closely, a glint of interest flickering in his eyes.
Step by step, she closed the distance, her expression hard to read. She glanced at her daughter who was unconscious, and bit her lips.
Then, without hesitation, she lowered her head and said in a firm voice.
"I'm sorry for choosing the wrong approach to meet you. If my behavior angered you, I hope you'll leave my daughter out of this and take me instead. She's all I have left."
Allen looked at her, his smile widening.
"Decisive and honest," he said, nodding slightly in approval.
"Considering your age, your social position, and how much you obviously love your daughter... I should probably forgive you."
He paused, letting the moment stretch uncomfortably.
"But," he added casually, "I don't feel like it."
"You said I was threatening the safety and peace of human society?" Allen's tone turned playful, almost mocking.
"You must have me confused. My name's Allen, not Bane."
He chuckled lightly, the sound echoing eerily in the quiet space.
"Sure, I may not be a hero," Allen admitted, his hands sliding into his pockets.
"But I did get rid of Bane and saved Gotham while your so-called protectors were too busy tripping over themselves."
"Yet, you still called me a threat to society?"
Dinah Lance stiffened, but forced herself to speak firmly.
"We investigated you. You're extreme, self-serving, and you exhibit clear signs of antisocial personality disorder."
She looked at him, and noticed his interest, thus she was forced to continue.
"Though you're occasionally friendly and even charming, it all depends entirely on your mood. Most of your actions are driven by instinct. You're highly unpredictable, aggressive, and destructive."
"Sounds like the textbook definition of a villain," Allen grinned as he nodded to himself.
"Too bad it doesn't hold up to scrutiny."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a lower, colder tone.
"Tell me something, Dinah. Who isn't selfish? If Laurel wasn't your daughter and it was just a random person, would you have apologized so decisively for her sake? Would you even have hesitated to let them die?"
Dinah Lance's lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't answer.
"When you're in a good mood, you're friendly." He pointed at her.
"In a bad mood, you're distant, or even hostile, right? Drinking, eating, sex, shopping, you act on instinct just like the rest of us. The only difference is you dress yours up and call it 'civilized.'"
"And just based on my personality, you decided I was a threat, a villain, without bothering to look at my actions? Without acknowledging that I saved Gotham?"
Allen clicked his tongue in mock disappointment.
"Selective memory much?"
He shrugged.
"Let me guess. If I cooperate, you get to control me. Maybe I lose my freedom. Maybe I die. Maybe I get used up as cannon fodder for some mission. But if I don't cooperate, I'm labeled a threat, and you get to take me out 'for the greater good.'"
Allen spread his arms wide.
"So, in the end, it's not about character. Not about behavior. Definitely not about justice or evil."
"It's about benefit. Only children would argue about right and wrong; Adults only care about the pros and cons, right?"
Dinah Lance remained silent for a long moment before she nodded slowly.
"Right."
Allen laughed, a deep, unrestrained laugh that filled the empty air.
"Haha, finally, some honesty."
He turned back toward Laurel, who was slowly stirring against the wall, her eyes fluttering open.
"With that said," Allen continued, his voice turning sharp again.
"Miss Laurel, you should've heard everything just now. So... what do you have to say to me?"
'Laurel was awake?'
Dinah Lance instinctively looked at her daughter, whose head was lifting slowly, eyes wide open, staring silently at the scene before her.
Her expression was complicated, shock, confusion, and pain all flashed across her face in quick succession.
Over the past few days, Laurel had been caught in a whirlwind of doubts and hesitations, unsure whether she should approach Allen again after their last encounter.
That uncertainty had lasted until tonight.
Earlier that evening, her mother had shown up unannounced at her place, revealing she was an agent of a secretive organization.
The first thing Dinah demanded was an explanation: why was she getting involved with Allen?
After Laurel hesitantly recounted everything she knew… her mother had declared that Allen was dangerous and needed to be either contained or eliminated.
But deep down, Laurel knew Allen might have critical information about the true mastermind behind the Queen's Gambit incident.
That was why she had agreed to meet him tonight.
She hadn't expected to be knocked out cold within minutes of arriving, or to wake up restrained against a wall.
And certainly not to overhear this brutal, naked exchange between her mother and Allen.
Whether it was the 'righteous' mother she had admired or the 'dangerous' man she was supposed to fear, both were vastly different from the images she had built in her mind.
"It seems you don't know what to say," Allen said, amused, watching her internal struggle.
"So, we'll do this my way,"
They both looked at him, waiting for his next words.
"Someone must die,"
Dinah Lance and Laurel both froze, the words hitting them like a physical blow.
Their eyes widened in shock and horror.
Was he seriously asking them to choose... between mother and daughter?
"Me!"
"Me!"
They both cried out at the same time, without hesitation, their voices overlapping.
Allen chuckled heartily.
"Haha,"
"The mother-daughter bond is truly touching, but at least let me finish speaking first."
He grinned widely, mischief dancing in his eyes.
"The person who must die is either..." Allen paused for dramatic effect.
"The one in charge of the A.R.G.U.S agency... or the person responsible for the attack on the Queen's Gambit."
His smile widened into something far more dangerous.
"Your choice."