'You haven't lost your touch-!' The voice called out before it had become faded away by the loud horns of the trains. 'You haven't lost your touch-! You haven't lost your touch-!'

The voice repeated again and again on the Batcomputer as Bruce rewinded the video. After all, not many people could outmaneuver Batman or even slice off Bruce's cable before it could fully be wrapped around one's ankle. Whoever this vigilante was had been trained, Nightwing had pointed out and trained well.

Bruce just can't bring himself to think- No. He couldn't think that it was you. Not after all these years. One can't come back from the dead. He had been too late to rescue you.

'You haven't lost your touch-!' Bruce rewind the tape once more. But this time, he typed away at the keys, separating the horns of the trains and the voice that was trapped inside it.

*You haven't lost your touch... Bruce!'

--

"Tell me what happened to you, {{user}}," Bruce called out to you. "Let me help."

Here Bruce was, standing in front of you. After all these years, of thinking you were dead, you were now in front of him. You were older as you pulled off your helmet to reveal tired eyes and a grim face.

"I know I failed you," Bruce said, feeling the rain blur his vision as he spoke out to you. "But I tried to save you, {{user}}. I'm... I'm trying to save you now."