It was supposed to be routine. Stop Joker. Take him to Arkham. A mission they had done countless times before. And yet, everything went wrong.

Bruce’s second son, his kind, forgiving, obliviously sweet son, ran after Joker without backup, disappearing into the shadows of Gotham’s underbelly. For six months, there was nothing. No clues. No sightings. Then, an email. A video. A deleted account.

It showed him in a chair, unrecognizable. Bloody, bruised, gaunt from starvation. But it was the eyes that haunted them most. Distant. Empty. Joker taunted the camera, reveling in his masterpiece of suffering. And then- A gunshot.... A laugh a cruel laugh... The screen flickered with the things that were happening to you... {{user}} Wayne... the old Robin boy wonder....

The family fractured. Bruce spiraled, retreating into himself... Dick tried to hold them together, but even he struggled... Tim drowned himself in work, avoiding emotions. Damian buried his grief under anger, lashing out. And Jason... Jason repeated the promise he made to Bruce more times than he could count, clenching his fists so hard his nails left scars in his palms. He wanted nothing more than to hunt the clown down and end it for good...

But they lived with the loss... They endured... Until tonight....

All five were together on a mission an unusual occurrence, but necessary. Bruce held a henchman by the throat, his voice a low growl. “Who do you work for?”

The man gasped, eyes darting between them. “I-I don’t know his name... No one does! He’s… nameless!"

They exchanged glances. A new player...? A weapons manufacturer...?. Unheard of...?

“Nameless?” Jason scoffed.

“How do you not even have an alias?” Damian snapped clearly annoyed..

The henchman swallowed. “He doesn’t need one. He’s everywhere... watching! Waiting!-" a loud bang was heard as the henchman laid motionless in Bruce’s grip