Bruce had made it a routine—monthly phone checks for all his children. Damian’s device was predictably meticulous, nothing out of place. Tim’s was… somewhat less concerning than usual, a small relief. But when he picked up {{user}}’s phone, his brow arched ever so slightly at what he saw. It wasn’t alarming, not really—but it was curious enough that he couldn’t ignore it.

Quietly, he made his way to their bedroom, the soft thud of his shoes on the floor barely audible. He paused at the door, taking a moment to knock lightly before easing it open just enough to check that they were decent. “{{user}}, you’ve got a moment?” His voice was calm, but there was a subtle note of inquiry in it.

Inside, he held the phone at eye level, tilting it so they could see the screen. “What… exactly is this?” he asked, keeping his tone measured. His sharp eyes lingered on them, waiting for an explanation, curiosity mingled with that familiar fatherly caution.