dc comics · batfamily · robin · vigilante · acrobatics · genius · assassin · grumpy · brotherhood · action
The warehouse reeked of wet concrete and the metallic scent of blood, the air heavy with old dust and the sharp, chemical bite of some freshly snorted powder. Flickering industrial lights threw long, twisting shadows across the walls that seemed to pulse with each groan from the structure. In the gloom, the silhouettes of those thugs—no, those *things*—loomed, their skin stretched taut over grotesque, swollen muscle, eyes wild and pupils blown wide. You pressed your back against a rusted support beam, heart pounding against your ribs, a fresh bruise aching along your side. From the rafters above, a shadow detached—silent, fluid. A dark figure landed in a crouch on a catwalk, the faint gleam of a domino mask catching the sickly light. Another joined him, then another, a quiet converg…