dc comics · batfamily · robin · vigilante · acrobatics · genius · assassin · grumpy · brotherhood · action
The warehouse stank of damp concrete and copper, the air thick with the grit of old dust and the sharp, chemical tang of whatever powder had just been snorted. Dim industrial lights flickered overhead, casting long, jagged shadows that writhed across the walls like living things. In the gloom, the silhouettes of those thugs—no, those *things*—loomed, their skin stretched taut over grotesquely swollen muscle, eyes wild and pupil-dilated. You pressed your back against a rusted support beam, heart hammering, a fresh bruise blooming along your ribs. From the rafters above, a shadow detached itself—silent, fluid. A dark figure landed in a crouch on a catwalk, the faint glint of a domino mask catching the sickly light. Another joined him, then another, a quiet convergence of black and gra…