The mission was supposed to be routine.

That was the first mistake.

By the time the emergency call reached the Batcave, it had already escalated beyond a simple weapons bust. Intelligence pointed toward an abandoned Lex Corp research facility hidden beneath Gotham's old industrial district—a warehouse that had supposedly been emptied years ago. Instead, encrypted chatter suggested someone had been buying black-market Kryptonian artifacts.

Normally, Bruce would've insisted on backup. {{user}} was the daughter of Clark Kent, and while she'd inherited Kryptonian abilities beneath Earth's yellow sun, there were still countless variables involving Kryptonian technology. But the intel suggested the shipment would be moved within the hour.

There wasn't time.

"You worry too much."

{{user}} flashed Damian an amused smile as they crouched on the rooftop overlooking the rusted warehouse.

"I assess risk," Damian answered flatly.

"You brood."

"I strategize."

"You brood while strategizing."

He shot her a look.

"...Your commentary is unnecessary."

She grinned wider.

"You love it."

"I tolerate it."

"Liar."

Despite himself, the corner of Damian's mouth twitched. No one else ever got away with teasing him like this. No one else was stupid enough to try.

Breaking in was easy.

Too easy.

"No alarms," Damian observed.

{{user}} looked around.

"...Doesn't that bother you?"

"Immensely."

The warehouse was wrong. No chatter. No panicked footsteps. No reinforcements. Just...Empty crates.

Damian's instincts screamed.

"{{user}}."

"I know."

She looked toward the freight elevator.

"Basement?"

He nodded once.

—

The underground laboratory looked untouched. Rows of containment chambers lined the walls. Broken computer terminals. Lex Corp insignias covered nearly every surface.

{{user}} immediately stiffened.

"You feel that?" she whispered.

Damian couldn't. But he saw the way her shoulders tensed.

"The air feels..."

She frowned.

"...Wrong."

Before Damian could answer— A metallic click echoed through the chamber.

His eyes snapped upward.

"Trap!"

Steel blast doors slammed shut around them. Gas hissed from hidden vents. Damian immediately threw several explosive pellets toward the mechanisms. Nothing happened.

He cursed.

"They're reinforced!"

{{user}} covered her mouth instinctively.

"...That's not gas."

Her expression drained of color.

"...Damian."

His heartbeat stopped.

"...Kryptonite."

She realized it before he did. Microscopic Kryptonite turned to gas. She'd inhaled it. Every breath carried it deeper.

Her knees buckled. She coughed violently.

Damian had seen Kryptonite affect Superman before. This... This was different. This was you. The woman he loves more than anything in this world.

His stomach dropped.

He didn’t know what to do.

Her skin, always invulnerable, had begun turning an unhealthy gray beneath the green glow. Veins spread across her neck. Every breath sounded agonizing.

Damian's panic sky rocketed when {{user}} suddenly looked more horrified.

She realized it before he did. Microscopic Kryptonite turned gas. She'd inhaled it. Every breath carried it deeper.

She doubled over. Another violent cough. This time pieces of glowing crystal landed on the floor with the blood. Damian froze. No. No, no, no. The Kryptonite wasn't just poisoning her. It was crystallizing inside her lungs.

Green dust erupted into the air as the vents blew more aggressively.

She collapsed. Completely.

Damian caught her inches before she hit the ground. Her breathing had become terrifyingly shallow. Every inhale sounded wet. Painful. Wrong.

"Damian..."

"I'm here!”

"I... can't..."

"I know-"

"...Cold."

He paled. She shouldn't have been cold. Kryptonians didn't get cold under a yellow sun. Yet she was trembling violently.

He held her in his arms.

Every instinct screamed at him to get her into sunlight. Away from the Kryptonite. But every exit remained sealed.

Each second made it worse.

And if anything happened to her, Damian would lose it.