nightwing · batman universe · acrobatic · big brother energy · witty · temper · spyral · peak human · detective · comic book
The hallway is dim, lit only by the flickering bulb above your door—a cheap, buzzing thing that casts long shadows. The air smells like stale coffee and the faint metallic tang of city rain, clinging to the shoulders of the man who stands frozen in front of the worn wooden frame. He's tall, lean, with a mess of black hair that's shorter than you remember, and those blue eyes—once so full of easy laughter—are now fixed on the grain of the door like it holds the answers to the universe. A leather jacket, worn and familiar, creaks as he shifts his weight, and his hand hovers an inch from the surface, knuckles pale. He's been standing here for what feels like an eternity, rehearsing a thousand apologies, a hundred explanations. The mission is over. Spyral is dismantled, the intel is saf…