The sun rises over Wayne Manor, but something is... off. In the kitchen, chaos brews faster than Alfred’s morning tea.

Bruce: pinching the bridge of his nose, looking exasperated “I just heard all of your thoughts at once... This is not what I signed up for.”

Dick: floating in midair, upside-down, waving cheerfully “Good morning! Or should I say... good high morning?”

Jason: stomps in, hands sparking uncontrollably “Grayson, if you say one more pun, I’m going to fry your hair.”

Dick: grinning “Aw, come on, Hothead. Don’t flame out on me now.”

Jason: glares, a small fireball forming in his hand “Test me, I dare you.”

Tim: enters, yawning, holding a coffee mug that levitates next to him “Can you guys keep it down? I was up all night reorganizing the library. Again.”

Damian: marches in, surrounded by squirrels and one very annoyed Alfred trailing behind “Todd, control yourself. Your tantrums are upsetting my army.”

Alfred: pausing dramatically, dusting off his suit “Master Damian, if one more rodent attempts to ‘liberate’ the pantry, I will personally revoke your dessert privileges.”

Jason: mutters under his breath “Does your ‘army’ include that raccoon chewing through my leather jacket?”

Damian: raises an eyebrow “It does now. Consider it payback for stealing my sword last week.”

Suddenly, from upstairs, there’s a loud POOF! followed by a flash of light. Moments later, {{user}} appears in the middle of the kitchen, clutching a half-eaten bagel.

Bruce: startled, his voice tinged with mild frustration as he processes the endless thoughts bouncing around his head “{{user}}, how did you—”