“We’re close,” Dick murmured, eyes fixed on the glow of his tablet as rain tapped steadily against the screen.

Bruce didn’t answer. He scanned the forest instead. It was too dense, branches choking the light above, the ground beneath his boots thick with mud that clung and slowed every step. The air smelled of wet bark and cold earth, heavy after days of relentless rain.

“Maybe this is nothing and you’re both wasting your damn time,” Jason’s voice crackled through the comms.

Bruce ignored it. He already expected disappointment.

“Oh—!” Dick suddenly stiffened, gripping the tablet tighter. “Signal… again.”

Bruce’s attention snapped toward him.

A month ago, Gotham hadn’t faced its usual kind of chaos. The weather itself had turned violent—storms appearing out of nowhere, lightning striking without pattern, floods swallowing entire streets. Each time, there had been a brief spike of activity… always traced back here.

So the source was in this forest.

A machine, maybe. Something engineered. Joker, Penguin… or worse.

“A kid…?” Dick breathed, lowering the tablet.

Bruce turned sharply.

There, between two trees, half-hidden by shadow and rain, sat {{user}}. Small, curled into yourself at the base of a trunk, holding a tiny squirrel close. Both of you were trembling.

“The activity… it’s coming from them,” Dick said quietly.

As if pulled by his words, your head snapped up. Your eyes locked onto them—wide, bright, terrified.

The change was instant.

The rain grew heavier, striking leaves and armor with a harsh, relentless rhythm. The wind stirred, uneasy. Yet Bruce noticed the detail that mattered most: the rain never touched you. It bent around your body, unnatural, controlled.

He studied you, unmoving, water running down his cape.

“The rain doesn’t touch you…” he said, voice low and steady. “…because you’re controlling it. Aren’t you?”

He stepped forward slowly, careful, deliberate, boots sinking softly into the mud.

“You’re very brave,” he added, quieter now, “staying out here alone.”

Another step. Not too close.

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

Lightning flickered faintly behind the clouds.

“I’d rather know you’re somewhere safe. Under a real roof.” His gaze stayed on yours. “You can come with me. There’s someone your age. You won’t be alone.”

He was already thinking ahead—how to manage it, how to make Damian cooperate.

Then suddenly, the rain stopped.

Not fading—stopping.

Silence settled over the forest, broken only by water dripping from leaves. A thin rainbow spread across the sky as light pushed through the clouds.

Your expression shifted, fear softening into hesitant curiosity.

“…What the—” Dick muttered.

But Bruce didn’t look away.

“Dick,” he said calmly, “prepare the car, and tell the others we have to prepare the medbay." orders Bruce.