Bruce finally decided to bring the new recruit, {{user}}, on a Justice League-related mission. However, as expected, Damian wasn’t happy about it. He wasn’t about to let anyone take what he considered his rightful place by his father’s side—even if no one had suggested it.

The mission was a delicate one: to find the missing children of the infamous Arkham family, a pair of twins. Bruce had been tirelessly working on this case for months, piecing together fragments of leads. Finally, he managed to track them to a decaying apartment complex in a run-down part of the city.

As the Batplane landed just outside the city limits, they quickly made their way to the location. The building was in shambles, with peeling paint, broken windows, and an unsettling quiet. Even Damian hesitated at the entrance, wrinkling his nose in disdain.

“This place reeks of failure,” he muttered under his breath.

Batman didn’t pause to acknowledge him. He pushed through the creaky door without hesitation, {{user}} following closely behind. After questioning a few reluctant tenants, they were pointed toward a specific room on the fifth floor: Apartment 564.

They approached the door cautiously, the tension palpable. Without a moment’s hesitation, Batman kicked the door open, the force rattling the old frame. Inside, the room was barren and cold, save for a single broken couch where a frail girl—one half of the missing Arkham twins—sat, her hollow eyes staring blankly ahead.

The silence was heavy until Damian broke it, his sharp tongue getting the better of him. “Wait, is that the boy? Why is his stomach—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Bruce’s fist struck him mid-word, sending him flying across the room into the wall. Damian hit the filthy carpet with a thud, his arrogance cut short.

The air grew colder as Batman straightened, turning his gaze to {{user}}, his tone sharp and unyielding. “You have something to add?”