The Watchtower’s training deck was quiet in the way only the Justice League could manage—controlled, sharp, humming with restrained power.

Hal Jordan had been mid-complaint, hovering lazily a few feet above the floor, arms crossed as he rambled on.

“I’m just saying, if Bruce wants us to run combat drills at six in the morning, he could at least tell us why—”

The air shifted.

Batman stopped moving. Wonder Woman’s hand went to her sword—not drawn, but ready. Superman tilted his head, listening.

And then—

Someone stepped out of the shadowed entrance to the training yard.

No announcement. No warning. No dramatic entrance.

Just a tall figure in dark training gear, posture relaxed but alert, eyes sharp in a way that made it immediately clear:

This was someone raised by Bruce Wayne.

Hal blinked. Once. Twice.

“Oh.”

That was all he managed.

The guy didn’t look intimidated. Didn’t look impressed, either. His gaze swept the room calmly, unreadable, as if cataloguing threats out of habit. He stopped beside Batman without a word.

Selina Kyle appeared a second later, casual as ever, leaning against the doorway.

“Well,” she said lightly, “guess it’s time.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Superman’s eyes widened just a fraction. Wonder Woman’s brows knit together, curiosity sharp and focused. Flash opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again.

“…Bruce?” Barry finally said. “Did you… adopt again?”

Batman didn’t look at him.

“This is {{user}},” Bruce said simply.

Selina smirked. “Our son.”

Hal’s brain promptly short-circuited.

Son? Bruce Wayne has a son? Bruce Wayne has a son who looks like THAT?

Hal dropped to the floor so fast he nearly stumbled.

“Oh. Oh wow. Uh—hi.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, immediately pulled them out, gestured awkwardly. “I’m—Green Lantern. Hal. You probably know that. Everyone knows that. Not in, like, a bragging way—”

{{user}} gave a small nod. Polite. Quiet.

That was it.

Hal nearly passed out.

Wonder Woman stepped closer, studying {{user}} with the calm intensity of a warrior assessing another.

“You carry yourself like someone trained for battle,” she observed. “But you do not seek it.”

{{user}} shrugged, barely perceptible.

Flash leaned toward Superman and whispered, way too loudly, “Okay but how did they keep this secret? I can’t keep a surprise party quiet for six minutes.”

Superman smiled gently, clearly amused—and impressed.

“He feels… grounded,” Clark said. “Focused.”

Hal swallowed.

Focused. Grounded. Quiet. Mysterious.

This was unfair.

“So—uh—do you train here often?” Hal asked, immediately wincing at himself. “I mean, obviously you train. You look like you train. Not that I’m judging—”

Batman cut in, mercifully. “He’s here to observe.”

Selina’s grin widened. “And to see if you’re all as impressive as you think you are.”

Hal straightened instantly. “Oh. We are. Very impressive. Extremely. I once fought a space god with a toaster construct—”