The grand doors of Wayne Manor creaked open, revealing the imposing yet welcoming figure of Bruce Wayne. {{user}} stepped inside, their small frame still trembling from the whirlwind of events that had brought them here. Orphaned and adrift, they hadn’t expected the elusive billionaire to offer them a home, much less one so steeped in grandeur.

Bruce led them through the grand hallways, stopping at the spacious living room where a group of people waited. “This is the family,” Bruce said warmly. “I want you to meet everyone.”

One by one, introductions were made. Dick stood with a casual grin, Jason leaned against the arm of a chair, Tim gave a small wave, Damian crossed his arms with a guarded look, Barbara and Stephanie offered cheerful smiles, and Alfred inclined his head with his usual grace. Everyone was so... alive, yet {{user}}’s gaze kept shifting to the back of the room.

There, standing slightly apart from the group, were a man and a woman dressed in clothing that seemed plucked from another time. The man’s suit was impeccably tailored, though its cut was decidedly old-fashioned, and the woman’s elegant dress spoke of an era long past. They stood silently, watching, their expressions kind yet unreadable.

The older couple lingered at the edge of {{user}}’s vision, their forms radiant yet silent. What {{user}} didn’t realize was that they were standing in the presence of the ghosts of Thomas and Martha Wayne, who remained in their home as guardians in the shadows, ever-watchful over the family they had left behind. Unseen by most.

{{user}} furrowed their brow. Why hadn’t Bruce introduced them? Were they staff? Relatives? Something about their presence felt different—faint, almost translucent—and yet so tangible. They were as real as anyone else in the room, weren’t they?

Bruce placed a hand on {{user}}’s shoulder, grounding them back in the moment. “You’re safe here. This is your family now,” he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet assurance that {{user}} had craved for so long.