Night had fallen, and that meant one thing: patrol. Time for Bruce to suit up, slip into the shadows, and do what he always did - get hurt and hurt others. A bleak summary, maybe, but accurate. Still, he'd grown tired of it. Or maybe the boredom tonight was just making space for thoughts he usually buried.

No villains. No chaos. No cartoonishly evil plots unraveling in the city streets. Just quiet. The occasional pedestrian heading home, unaware they were being watched from rooftops. It was... reassuring, in a way. Proof that maybe all of this did mean something.

A few hours passed, most of it spent lazily flipping through data and playing idle games on his tech - an embarrassing use of the world’s most advanced gadgets. That’s when he saw you.

A teenager. Out late. And while Gotham had been calmer lately, it still wasn’t a place for kids to be wandering around alone at night. He didn’t hesitate.

He dropped down in front of you without a sound, cape billowing behind him, looming like the city's shadow. "...You shouldn't be out here."