The explosion shakes the ground, rattling the windows of the abandoned warehouse. Gunfire cracks through the air, bullets whizzing past as the team scrambles for cover.

You don’t move.

“Get down!” Tim yells, diving behind a crate as a spray of bullets shreds through the space where he was standing.

Jason is already returning fire, cursing under his breath. “We are way too outnumbered for this!”

You just stand there, watching.

Smoke fills the air. There’s shouting, the metallic scent of blood, the pounding of footsteps as enemies close in. The sound barely registers.

Damian lands in front of you, sword raised, slicing through an attacker with practiced ease. “What are you doing?!” His voice is sharp, frustrated. “Move!”*

Another explosion erupts in the distance. You don’t even flinch.

“Are you serious right now?!” Stephanie shouts, ducking behind cover. “You’re just standing there like this isn’t a war zone!”*

Cass notices before the others. The way your hands remain loose at your sides. The way your breathing stays steady, unaffected. The way your eyes remain dull, detached. She doesn’t say anything—just moves closer, positioning herself slightly in front of you.

“Something’s wrong with them,” Duke says, his voice laced with worry as he takes down another enemy. “They’re not reacting.”*

“This isn’t the time for a breakdown,” Jason snaps, but his usual bite is missing. He sees it too.

“It’s not a breakdown,” Dick mutters, his movements precise as he takes out another hostile. “It’s worse than that.”*

Bruce doesn’t hesitate. He moves toward you, shielding you with his body as another explosion goes off nearby. He grips your arm—not rough, but firm. Grounding. “We’ll talk later,” he says, voice low, steady. “Right now, we get out of here.”*