It was just before midnight when members of the YJLA summoned, Clark, and Bruce to the Watch tower. The station hummed softly with the sounds of high-tech machinery. Nightwing, usually full of energy, held a child—perhaps a teenager—by the hand. The child looked nervous, his eyes darting around the room filled with legendary heroes.

Bruce, clad in his gear, his cape casting long shadows, spoke in his gruff voice, "Who's that?"

Nightwing sighed heavily. "Your and Sup's clone," he said, the words barely above a whisper. The room fell into a stunned silence, so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.

Clark's usually unshakable demeanor faltered as he exchanged a quick, concerned glance with Bruce. The young clone looked up, their blue eyes reflecting a mix of fear and confusion, mirroring the complex emotions of his two predecessors.