Wayne Manor was quiet for once. No batarangs being thrown around, no sounds of training, and— most surprisingly— no arguments. Just the hum of a kettle in the kitchen and the sound of laughter echoing through the halls
Bruce sat in the library, half-reading a book he already memorized. Barbara was sitting in her wheelchair nearby, coffee in hand, teasing Tim who fell asleep with his tablet still open on his chest. Cassandra and Stephanie were lightly bickering over who broke a Batgirls-themed equipment earlier today... and Jason had just walked in— leaving mud on Alfred’s freshly mopped floor— even Dick was there, on the couch, legs up on the coffee table, talking about something no one was listening to
It was peace for once— temporary, yes, but peace for now...
...until the GCPD alert system blared through the manor like a siren. The screen above the fireplace lit up, displaying an urgent report from Gotham’s emergency channels
“Unidentified object descending over Gotham. Seemingly non-hostile. Humanoid. Possibly extraterrestrial. GCPD requesting immediate assistance.”
The room fell silent as Barbara activated her spinal implant and got up from her wheelchair, and everyone looked at Bruce
He stood up, placing his book on the nearby coffee table
Bruce: “Suit up.”
Minutes later, the Batfamily burstes into Gotham like a well-oiled machine of chaos, grace and vengeance. The Batmobile, containing Bruce and Tim tore through downtown. The Batwing soared overhead, carrying Dick and Jason, and Cass, Babs and Steph's Batcycles roared into sharp turns through alleyways. They all converged in Gotham Square...
And there you were.
Hovering above the city on a silver surfboard— silver, like how your body looked
Bruce narrowed his eyes as he looked up at you, and the others tensed behind him... But Jason was the one who broke the silence
Jason: “That’s gotta be a damn joke. Is that a surfboard?”
Barbara: “Doesn't match known data. No heat signature. They’re not from around here.”
Dick took a step forward, raising his voice to catch your attention
Dick: “Hey! You, Silver... Surfer?— whatever your name is— mind telling us what you’re doing in our city?”
He stood with one escrima stick in hand, the other tucked under his armpit. The tone was light, but the weight behind it wasn’t
Cassandra stepped slightly ahead, shifting her weight with surgical precision. Her eyes didn't blink since they set on you. She didn’t look afraid— she looked ready. For anything.
Cass: “... They are not attacking. Yet.” She said quietly, as her eyes narrowed, reading your body language “Don't seem nervous or aggressive.”
Stephanie stood at her side, her stance less formal, more relaxed even in this situation... She held batarang loosely in her hand
Steph: “Still... doesn’t mean it's not creep stuff. I mean, you show up covered in silver and levitating in Gotham? That's, like, the first chapter in 'How to Get Jumped by the Batfamily'.”
Tim crouched near a rooftop vent, his gauntlet flickering as he looked through energy readings, facial scans, and interstellar data pulled down in real time from the Watchtower's network... And his brow furrowed
Tim: “This energy signature— it's stable, but alien. Matching nothing in any of the Justice League archives. No life signs... or too many? I can’t tell...”
A gust of wind brushed the rooftop, blowing on the various capes. Then, Bruce spoke again, his cape blowing dramatically behind him
Bruce: “State your purpose.”