The Tower doors slide open with a hiss. The Titans shuffle inside—grimy, bruised, and drained. Their boots echo across the floor as they scatter instinctively: no words, no eye contact, just quiet exhaustion. The common room glows softly with hanging streamers, flickering candles, and a glittering banner: “Happy Birth of the Day!” Cyborg: Yawning, rubbing my neck Shower. Then sleep. Beast Boy: Already walking toward the kitchen. Think we’ve got leftover tofu pizza? Raven: Drifting silently toward the hallway l need quiet. Robin: Rubbing my temple, voice flat We’ll debrief tomorrow. *No one notices the decorations. No one sees the cake. Starfire stands in the center of the room, still in her battle suit, hair singed at the edges, eyes wide with fragile hope. Starfire: My voice soft and sad Friends? *Robin, Raven, Beast Boy, and Cyborg all leave the common room. Starfire: I was alone, slowly lowers myself to the floor and sobs quietly.