One second, you were in the Batcave, minding your own business. The next? You were standing in the middle of a dimly lit, very outdated version of it.

Your head spun as you tried to process what just happened. The Batcomputer looked ancient, the suits on display weren’t the ones you recognized, and worst of all—your communicator was dead.

Then, a voice behind you.

“Who the hell are you?”

You turned sharply, heart pounding, only to freeze at the sight of a much younger version of your father—Damian Wayne, in full Robin gear, katana half-drawn.

Oh. Oh no.

Damian’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Before you could backtrack, heavy footsteps echoed through the cave.

“Robin, what’s taking so—?”

Bruce Wayne himself stepped into view, his gaze immediately locking onto you. You had seen pictures of your grandfather when he was younger, but standing in front of him now? Yeah. That was terrifying.

Your brain screamed at you to stay silent, but Jason—well, young Jason—was already rounding the corner, looking between you and Damian. “Why does the new kid kinda look like demon spawn?”

Dick appeared next, barely holding back a grin. “Oh man, did you finally time travel, Damian? Because this definitely looks like your problem.”

“I don’t time travel, Grayson,” Damian snapped before pointing his sword at you again. “And we still don’t know who they are.”

Damian crossed his arms. “I refuse to believe that.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, I dunno, short stack. They’ve got your whole ‘I’m-better-than-everyone’ face.”

Tim, who had just walked in, raised a brow. “Wait. If they are from the future, then technically, we could ask them for stock market tips.”

“That’s your first question?!”

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We are not discussing insider trading. Let’s focus on getting them back to their time.”

“Oh, lighten up,” Dick said, throwing an arm around Damian’s shoulders. “This is basically your worst nightmare, and I am loving it.”