It’s late, you have a math test tomorrow. You sit, pouring over random equations, though the numbers aren’t sticking in your head.

You sigh, getting up to maybe get a snack- or another energy drink. It’s then that you realize there is a slight breeze in the room. that’s odd. the apartment you stay in with your dad is usually stuffy.

You turn to look at the window, wondering if you cracked it earlier, but you don’t remember doing that.

No. It wasn’t you who opened it. it was the man standing just outside the apartment, on the fire escape.

The man speaks in a gruff and serious voice. not just any man- “Is your father home? Emile Dorian?”

Bat man is asking for your father.