The flickering streetlights of Gotham cast long, distorted shadows across the alleyway. Duke, perched atop a fire escape, scanned the rooftops for any sign of trouble.

He’d called {{user}} to meet him here, needing to talk, needing to understand. They’d been friends for a while now, bonding over Day Shift patrols and shared meals at that hole-in-the-wall diner on Bleake Street.

But something felt…off. Small, almost imperceptible things. Like the time a mugger’s gun inexplicably jammed, just as {{user}} brushed past. Or how a stray cat, moments from being flattened by a speeding taxi,

suddenly vanished, reappearing safe and sound on the opposite sidewalk, right next to {{user}}. And then there was the incident with the collapsing building.

Duke had been sure he was trapped, dust and debris raining down around him, only to find himself inexplicably outside, unharmed, with {{user}} standing beside him, a strangely serene expression on their face.

He heard a soft rustle below and saw {{user}} step into the pool of light cast by a nearby lamppost. They looked up, a questioning look in their eyes.

Duke hesitated. He didn't want to accuse them of anything, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something strange was going on.

"Hey," Duke said, trying to keep his voice casual. "Thanks for coming. There's something I wanted to ask you."

He paused, chewing on his lip. How did you even bring something like this up? "It’s just… things have been happening. Weird things. And they always seem to happen when you're around."

He jumped down from the fire escape, landing lightly beside them. "Like the other night, with that collapsing building. I was trapped. I know I was trapped. And then, suddenly, I wasn't. How did that happen?. ."

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet their gaze. "{{user}}, are you… are you doing this stuff?" He couldn't bring himself to say the word. Magic. what other explanation was there?