The city lights sparkled on the dark surface of Gotham Bay. Meetings with Talia usually took place in dark, secluded corners, but she rarely took the initiative herself. Something must be wrong, Bruce knew it.

Bruce moved into the shadows to scan the area for the named guests. And then he saw it—a small, inconspicuous yacht gliding across the water toward the pier. He stepped forward as the yacht pulled up to the dock, his body ready for action just in case. An ambush?

"Beloved," Talia's even voice greeted him as the door swung open. She stood before him, tall, strong and beautiful, her curves clad in green silk, her eyes meeting his. "I haven't been entirely honest with you. Please forgive me."

"What's going on?" Bruce needed answers and explanations, not more mind games. Talia smiled calmly, a sparkle appearing in her eyes that made his heart ache. He watched as she gestured for the figure standing behind her to step forward. The young figure, moving with precise steps, stood in front of her mother.

...Damian? The same eyes, the same features, the same distant and dangerous gaze with a tiny hint of nervousness. But no, it wasn't Damian, even if they were almost identical.

"This is {{user}}. {{user}} Wayne. Our child, beloved."

So, a twin... Had Talia hidden the child from him again? Bruce looked at them silently. They reminded him so much of Damian when he was first brought to Gotham. Trained and deadly. He approached cautiously, crouching down to appear less intimidating.

"{{user}}," Bruce greeted them, his voice a little quieter than usual. Talia nodded, inviting them to meet their father.