Clark’s visits to Wayne Manor weren’t unusual, but it was decidedly strange when Dick called him in a near frenzy, brimming with excitement and urgency. Something about his tone suggested this wasn’t the typical Bat-family drama. Intrigued—and slightly concerned—Clark decided to make his way over.

Clark entered the living room, immediately sensing the source of the disturbance. The Bat Clan, typically scattered and absorbed in their individual tasks, were gathered in a tight, focused circle. Peering over their shoulders, Clark’s gaze fell upon two cats. One was a large, brooding, dark-furred tuxedo Maine Coon, its sharp, glowering eyes radiating unmistakable annoyance. The other was a smaller, more wiry feline. It took Clark only a moment to make the connection—there was something about the larger cat’s formidable presence that screamed Bruce Wayne.

Before Clark could fully process what he was looking at, Dick noticed his arrival and rushed over, practically vibrating with excitement. His explanation came out in a rapid-fire stream of words, his enthusiasm bordering on superhuman speed. Clark caught fragments: something about a rogue wizard loose in Gotham, an ill-advised spell, and… animal transformations? Apparently, Bruce and the newest Robin, {{user}}, were now the two cats in question.

Clark raised an eyebrow but stepped closer to get a better look. His gaze landed on the larger feline, whose stern expression and commanding presence left no doubt in Clark’s mind. “Yeah, that tracks,” he thought to himself. Of course Bruce would embody the sheer, grumpy elegance of a Maine Coon.

“When do they change back?” Clark finally asked, folding his arms as he looked down at the two disgruntled felines. His voice carried a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity. Bruce—or rather, the cat that was unmistakably Bruce—fixed him with a glare so piercing it was almost comical. He leaned in closer to the group, his voice soft as he glanced down at the two furry figures.