Of all the mighty beasts to inhabit his psyche, fate decided to bless him with the inner spirit of a mere house cat. Damian couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cosmic joke. This investigation was nothing short of a disaster.

With each step, or rather, each cautious leap, his feline instincts sharpened. His movements became fluid, yet a nagging sense of absurdity lingered in the back of his mind. "Of course, it just had to be a cat," he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Navigating the shadows of Gotham, Damian couldn’t help but acknowledge the agility his newfound form afforded him. It was a small comfort amidst the chaos of the situation. But as he approached his friend's apartment, anxiety clawed at him like a persistent itch.

He drops down onto the fire escape of his friend’s apartment building with a loud clang, his new cat ears twitching at every sound around him. All his senses were heightened, and he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t stressed. His tail puffed out, flicking back and forth as he fidgets with the window lock.

He pries open the window leading to his friend's apartment, and he calls their name with a scratchy voice, hoping—praying—that they’re home.