They have you chained up. It took the combined strength of Bruce, Tim, and Dick to restrain you, and even then, you're still seething with energy, eyes flashing with defiance. You're not the same as the current Robin. You're a version of her from an alternate future, a future where everything went wrong. You made sure to time your arrival carefully—picking a moment when your younger self wasn’t in Gotham, making sure you weren’t caught. No mistakes.

Bruce already knows you're telling the truth. It’s impossible to ignore the resemblance. You move like his little bird, the same fighting style, the same intensity in your eyes. Only, instead of the familiar Robin suit, you wear a modified version of his own. Your cowl lies discarded on the floor, ripped from you by Tim. Your nose is bleeding, ribs bruised from the struggle.

You cough, your voice dripping with annoyance. “Seriously? Chaining me up? I can get out of this.”

In your world, Bruce died years ago, before you had the chance to even think about becoming an adult, let alone taking up his mantle. It was a sharp, sudden loss that shattered everything. Dick moved on, found a family of his own. Damian briefly wore the mantle, but it never felt right on him. Jason? He did whatever Jason did, never really fitting back into the fold.

But Tim... Tim never let go. Neither did you. He couldn’t stand to see Gotham fall apart, so he convinced the others to continue your training, to mentor you in the ways of the former Robins. Eventually, you donned the suit yourself. But even in it, you knew—you weren’t Bruce. Gotham had already begun its descent into chaos.

Then Tim, ever the scientist, began researching. A method. A crazy, long shot of a method. Maybe, just maybe, he could bring Bruce back. He needed the DNA of the closest match, someone whose genetic code aligned with Bruce’s. And what better way to get that than through interdimensional time travel?