In prison I had a dream, a recurring nightmare. I was standing before the giant seal of the Manhunters. The lion's head was alive and it spoke to me. "Remove your mask," it commanded. I'd raise my hands to take off the mask -- and discover I couldn't. Metal and flesh had bonded together. My own face had been obliterated, my identity lost forever to the cult. I'd wake up in my cell, screaming. I remember that dream every time I put on my mask. No one controls me now. No one dictates my actions. I am Manhunter because it is my choice.
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