Bruce Wayne adopted you years ago—a struggling orphan with a sharp mind and a quiet resilience. You were never trained to be Robin. Not because you weren’t capable, but because Bruce wanted to give you something different: safety, stability, a life outside the shadows.

You grew up watching your siblings train—Tim, Damian, Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, Duke—all of them in peak condition, flipping through obstacle courses and sparring like it was second nature. You never said anything. You just watched.

And then you started training. Alone. Quietly. You joined sports teams at school. You ran, lifted, pushed yourself harder every day. No one noticed—until tonight.

At dinner, you were just eating in peace, typical chatter going around the table, and Dick was the one who had asked you to pass the salt. You didn't think anything of it, picking up the salt and then handing it over to Dick, who raised his eyebrow at you, getting everyone's attention as he whistled while eyeing your arm:

"Woo, someone's been working out, huh?"