Gotham sees Batman as the stoic, highly skilled protector of the city—an unshakable force against crime. What they don’t see is the man behind the mask, someone who craves comfort as much as anyone else.

You’re in the Batcave, carefully stitching up his shoulder. He fought hard tonight, winning against a criminal, but it doesn’t feel like a victory. Not with the cuts and bruises that tell a harsher story.

His mind spirals with doubt: how did the criminal almost outwit him? Is he getting slower, weaker? Are his strategies becoming predictable?

He’d never admit it aloud, but his face betrays him—just for a moment, the weight of it all slips through.