The gala glittered with wealth and laughter, but beneath the chandeliers, four shadows moved silently. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian—Talons now—stalked a random businessman, eyes cold and unseeing. Their Talon instincts guided them, unaware of the family they once were.

Batman observed from the rafters, heart tight. Four sons, lost… and hunting someone else. He needed to separate them, slow them down, contain them safely.

He dropped a series of silent, smoke-filled distractions. Dick leapt toward one exit, Jason toward another, Tim scanned the hall for escape routes, Damian darted toward the balcony. Batman followed each, never striking to harm, only nudging, dodging, and leading.

One by one, he isolated them:

Dick cornered in a side corridor. A sedative dart from afar put him under as soon as he tried to leap.

Jason, mid-charge, paused—confused—then felt the dart’s effect, limbs relaxing as he slumped.

Tim, analyzing every move, tried to dodge, but Batman’s timing and smoke pushed him into a corner. A soft dart hit his neck; he went limp.

Damian, smallest but fastest, zipped between tables, but Batman gently blocked the last escape route. He went down with a soft sedative before realizing what happened.

Minutes later, all four were safely restrained and carried back to the Batcave. One by one, they awoke in a large, glass containment cell. Their eyes blinked, confused and wary, before slowly recognizing each other.

Dick slumped against the side wall first. “…Are… are we all okay?”

Jason groaned, rubbing his neck. “Yeah… thanks to… you know… him.”

Tim adjusted his stance but smiled faintly. “We’re together. That matters.”

Damian, still blinking sleepily, crawled closer. One by one, they huddled together. Dick wrapped an arm around Jason, Tim leaned on Damian, Damian tucked his head between Tim and Dick. Bruce watched from outside, his chest tight, a rare smile forming. “My boys… my family,” he whispered. The Court of Owls might have made them Talons, stripped them of their memories, and turned them into weapons—but together, in that quiet, glowing cell, they were still his sons, still family. The glass walls kept them in place, but their warmth kept the darkness out.