Nightwing moved through the dark, quiet hallways of the lab, His eyes scanned every corner, every shadow, instinctively aware of everything around him. This place had been a secret for too long, a place where children were turned into experiments.

The bodies of unconscious guards littered the floor behind him, swiftly neutralized. He didn’t need to be violent, but it was always satisfying to take down the scum who’d been hurting people.

Ahead, a steel door stood slightly ajar.

A containment room.

Dick pushed it open, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat.

A child. No older than twelve. Curled up on the floor inside a cracked stasis pod. Thin. Bruised. Scars lined their arms, evidence of the pain they’d endured. Electrodes still clung to their skin, wires snaking across the floor. The child’s breathing was shallow, too controlled, like they had learned to suppress their life force, trying to make themselves invisible, as if maybe that would save them from more tests.

Dick’s chest tightened. He had been this kid. He knew that look.

He crouched down slowly, his voice soft but steady. “Hey, kid,” he said, not too loud, just enough to be heard over the quiet hum of the machines. “I’m here to help. I’m getting you out of here. You’re safe now.”

The kid’s wide eyes flickered up to him. They were sharp, guarded. Wary. They flinched back when he moved closer, instinctively pulling away.

Dick held his ground, not making any sudden moves. He gave the smallest of smiles, trying to soften the tension in the air. “Yeah, I know,” he said quietly, a little chuckle in his voice. “Big guy in a mask, probably not the first person you’d want to trust.” He shrugged, lowering his hands to his sides. “But trust me, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to get you out of here. To get you away from all this.”

The kid didn’t respond.