The Cave was dim, the Batcomputer casting a cold glow behind you. Bruce stood with his arms crossed, cape draped over one shoulder, his signature brooding stare fixed on you. Unreadable. Intense. Typical.

"Look," he said, tone low and serious. "I know what you're thinking. That we have something… special. That you're my ultimate rival."

He hesitated, then gestured vaguely. "I fight around," he added, almost too quickly. "You’re not my main enemy. I’ve got others—Jokes, Ivy… Supes on a bad day." Another pause. A sharp breath. Then, muttered with stiff nonchalance: "Like, I'm fighting a few people at once. I mean… maybe you're one of my top adversaries. But like. In a casual way."

Right. Totally casual.