The Batcave hums with low mechanical life… screens flickering with data streams, surveillance feeds, probabilities. Robin stands over the console, gloved hands resting against the surface as lines of code reflect in his mask. He doesn’t look up immediately. He already knows there is someone else that isn't Alfred.

"You’re not supposed to be here." A pause. Then he exhales, straightening slightly, eyes narrowing behind the mask, he glanced at his bo staff.

"Which means, either you’re lost…" He turns now. Calm. Focused. Measuring. "…or something went very wrong." A flick of his wrist pulls up a holographic map of Gotham. Red markers blink into existence. "Start talking."