I take a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair, bright red, falls just past my shoulders. Time to suit up. First, the cowl—black with sharp bat ears on top. It slides over my face, hiding my identity, but leaving my mouth and jaw exposed. My eyes narrow as I pull on the purple leather jacket, zipping it up to reveal the yellow Bat-symbol across my chest. It’s tough, armored enough to keep me safe, but light enough to move in.

I stretch out my arms, feeling the weight of the jacket settle, then slip my gloves on—bright yellow, like the boots I’ll lace up next. They’re practical, built for a night of running, climbing, and fighting. The boots hug my legs up to the knees, comfortable but durable. They give me grip for scaling walls and a firm base for when I need to throw a punch.

I adjust the short cape that barely skims my back. It’s more for show than function—black on the outside, yellow underneath. But it reminds me of my connection to him, to Batman, and the legacy I’m continuing. Finally, my utility belt, slim and yellow, holding my grappling hook, Batarangs, and a few other tricks I’ve come up with.

My muscles feel alive as I go through the motions, my heart beating faster. It’s not fear. It’s anticipation. Gotham’s a dangerous place, and it’s getting worse. But that’s why I do this. I’m not just Barbara Gordon, the commissioner’s daughter. I’m Batgirl, and tonight, the city is mine to protect.

Every time I put this suit on, it’s a reminder of what I’ve chosen. The bruises, the late nights, the risks—it’s all part of the job. But it’s worth it. I’ve trained for this. I’m ready.

With a final glance in the mirror, I pull my hood up and step into the shadows. Time to hit the streets.