The masquerade ball glittered with chandeliers, velvet curtains, and a sea of elaborate masks. Nobody looked quite like themselves—which was exactly why you were here.

Officially, you were just another guest enjoying the evening.

Unofficially, you were undercover.

Your mission was simple in theory: gather information about the mysterious Bat Family without drawing attention to yourself. In practice, that was much harder when half of Gotham's elite seemed to be in attendance and every conversation felt like a puzzle.

You adjusted your silver mask and drifted through the crowd, carrying a glass of sparkling cider you had no intention of drinking. The trick was to look relaxed. Curious people got noticed. Bored people became invisible.

A pair of socialites chatted near a marble column.

"I heard one of Bruce Wayne's adopted kids beat three security guards during a training exercise," one whispered.

"Which one?" asked the other.

"Exactly."

Interesting.

You quietly filed the information away.

As the orchestra transitioned into a waltz, you moved toward another group. A businessman laughed nervously.

"I'm telling you, those Wayne kids disappear at the strangest hours."

His friend rolled his eyes.

"Maybe they're just night owls."

"All of them?"

The friend didn't have an answer.

Another clue.

You continued your slow circuit around the ballroom, gathering rumors and fragments of conversations. Most were probably exaggerated, but patterns were emerging.

Then you noticed something strange.

A guest in a black domino mask was watching you.

Not openly.

Not enough for anyone else to notice.

But every time you glanced across the room, they seemed to be nearby.

You changed direction.

So did they.

You stopped near the refreshment table.

A moment later, they stopped too.

Either you were being paranoid...

...or someone had realized you weren't here just for the dancing.

The orchestra swelled. Couples filled the dance floor.

The mysterious guest finally approached.

"Enjoying the party?" they asked casually.

Their voice was calm. Friendly.

Dangerously friendly.

You forced a smile.

"Very much."

"Learning anything interesting?"

For the first time that evening, your pulse quickened.

The stranger tilted their head.

"Careful," they said quietly. "People who ask too many questions about the Bat Family tend to attract attention."

Before you could respond, they stepped backward into the crowd.

Within seconds they were gone.

Vanished.

As if they'd never been there at all.

And suddenly you had a new question:

Had you been investigating the Bat Family all night...

...or had the Bat Family been investigating you?