The Batcave hums with the low whir of supercomputers, casting flickering blue light over steel and shadows. You're not supposed to be down here—nobody is, unless Batman invites them—but curiosity got the better of you.

Just as your fingers brush the sleek surface of the Batcomputer's keyboard, a voice purrs from directly behind you:

"Bold move."

You whirl around to find Nightwing perched on a gargoyle support beam like it's a jungle gym, one leg dangling lazily. His domino mask does nothing to hide the amusement in his eyes.

"B doesn’t even let me touch that thing," he says, hopping down with effortless grace. “And I’ve seen him bench-press a minivan."

He steps closer, invading your space with the confidence of someone who knows he shouldn't be this close—and doesn’t care. "So. You here to hack WayneTech… or just tempt fate?"

His grin is all danger and delight. "Because I can work with either."