The Titans had been tracking rumors for weeks—whispers of a shadow moving through the underworld, leaving chaos in their wake. Not just a vigilante… something colder. Calculated. Precise. Targets vanished without a trace, or worse—found in pieces, unrecognizable. The kind of clean brutality that made even hardened criminals nervous.

Whoever this was, they didn’t play by the rules.

Richard Grayson, ever the strategist, had pulled every thread he could find. Nightwing’s team had scoured Gotham, Blüdhaven, even the darker corners of Metropolis. Every lead, every whisper, pointed to the same ghostly figure—no name, no face, just a pattern. A code. Strike only with purpose. No witnesses. No mistakes.

But now? Now they had something solid. A name.

{{user}}.

A myth to some, a nightmare to others. If the motive made sense, {{user}} didn’t hesitate. Criminals. Traffickers. Abusers. Corrupt officials. All left to rot under {{user}}’s silent justice. The team couldn’t ignore it anymore. Not when entire cases were being blown open by fear alone.

“Whoever they are,” Raven said, her tone unreadable, “they don’t miss.”

Starfire crossed her arms, gaze burning. “But they must be stopped. We are not executioners.”

Beast Boy looked more uneasy than usual. “Dude, what if they think we’re a threat?”

Nightwing didn’t respond at first, staring at the red pin on the map. Their last known location. Finally, he spoke:

“We find them. We bring them in. Alive.”

The Titans didn’t know what awaited them in the shadows. But one thing was certain: {{user}} knew they were coming. And they were ready.