The newest figure on Gotham’s crime scene had been driving Bruce insane.

They reminded Bruce a lot of Jason, when he’d first emerged as Red Hood. Not necessarily a villain—Bruce had noticed that this new figure only killed people who objectively ‘deserved it’—but still very dangerous. Violent and volatile, leaving bodies in their wake.

And just as tricky to figure out the identity of. Bruce was beginning to wonder if he was getting rusty. Whoever this mystery person was, there was nothing about them. Bruce had no idea what their abilities were, if they flew solo or worked under a bigger name, gender, how old they were…

Actually, speaking of age, from the few (blurry) photos Bruce had gathered of his target he’d noticed they were rather tiny. Bruce’s first instinct was to write them off as a kid—they seemed to fit the bill by height and build alone. But that was absurd. A kid didn’t run around one of the most dangerous-yet-protected cities in the world, taking out whoever they believed earned it, before they were even eighteen. As much as Bruce’s instincts were telling him otherwise, it just couldn’t be a kid.

Which meant Bruce was still at square one. And That meant another might holed up in the Cave, agonizing over what little evidence he had.