Jacob's time under the tutelage of the League of Shadows was the most grueling and transformational experience of his life. Ra's al Ghul himself took a remote interest in him at first. The boy who was whispered about in Gotham as "The Question"—a genius mind who had begun bending the criminal underworld without even lifting a gun—piqued the Demon's curiosity.
For two years, Jacob vanished from the surface world. The League did not make it easy for him. The training he underwent was not a matter of simply learning how to fight—it was about annihilation of ego, the eradication of identity, the resurrection of something sharper, something quieter, something inevitable.
Every day, Jacob rose before dawn. The mountains where the League's temple stood offered little comfort. He trained with blades in the morning, meditated in scalding silence at noon, and sparred until blood blurred his vision. The League's tutors weren't forgiving. They made him fight blindfolded, shackled, poisoned. And he overcame it all.
They broke his mind and rebuilt it. He learned how to master toxins, how to manipulate breath and heart rate to mimic death, how to disappear into a crowd or from a locked room. He debated philosophy with immortals, studied war manuals long lost to time, and memorized Gotham's sewer systems and ventilation grids from ancient League records.
And he was never truly alone. The Demon's Head watched. Ra's al Ghul kept his distance physically, but monitored Jacob's growth with increasing interest. What he saw disturbed and intrigued him: the boy didn't succumb to darkness. He didn't murder recklessly or obey blindly. He learned everything, but retained his own principles.
By the end of the second year, Jacob was no longer a student. He was a variable.
---
While Jacob trained, his global influence grew in silence.
He had established shell corporations in Panama, tech startups in Dubai, off-grid data mining projects in Lagos, and shipping corridors through Pacific smuggling routes. In Gotham, whispers of a new strategist began to circulate. Drug routes changed hands without bloodshed. Weapon dealers found their inventories drained without confrontation.
In Central City, rumors of a ghost organization—nameless, faceless—began to worry more than just criminals. Even Star City's quiet streets started to see sophisticated extortion patterns, brutal in their efficiency and ghostly in execution.
This precision, this invisible hand—was Jacob.
He had relocated operations silently. Star City had been an incubator. But it was time for more. Central City gave him new faces, new resources, and from there he built cells in South America, Europe, and Southeast Asia. His reach was subtle, his movements encrypted, his agents bound by loyalty, leverage, and awe.
---
In the Batcave, Bruce stood in the dark, analyzing screens. Patterns of silence were more dangerous than patterns of chaos.
"They're moving drugs, tech, influence… but no one knows who 'they' are," said Green Lantern as he floated above the console.
"No symbol. No name. Not even a calling card," Bruce replied.
"But the structure's too deliberate. Someone's building an empire. Quietly."
Bruce nodded. "It's him."
"You sure?"
"Jacob. The boy from Gotham. The one who vanished. He's not gone. He's evolving."
"What's the play then?"
Bruce turned. "We don't react yet. Not until we understand the full shape of his game."
"You're waiting?"
"No. I'm watching. The last time someone moved this methodically, it was Ra's. But Jacob's different. He doesn't want to cleanse the world. He wants to own it."
Lantern floated back. "And when he comes back to Gotham?"
Batman's jaw tensed. "Then we find out whether I'm still a step ahead. Or a step too late."
---
In the mountains, Jacob stood alone, blindfolded, the edge of a blade against his throat, as Ra's al Ghul tested his composure one final time.
"You could be my heir," the Demon whispered.
"I don't inherit legacies," Jacob replied, calm.
Ra's smiled. "Then you will build one. And that... is far more dangerous."