The fight had been brutal. The Batfamily had faced Joker’s men countless times, but this new recruit—you—was different. Fast, precise, dangerous. You fought like someone trained, not just another mindless thug.

Then, mid-dodge, a stray Batarang sliced through your hood.

And everything stopped.

The mask fell away, revealing a face far too young.

A child.

Dick’s next attack faltered. Jason cursed. Tim’s grip on his staff tightened. Stephanie took a sharp breath. Duke went completely still.

Mia, who had been ready to strike, hesitated, whispering, “No way…”

Cass had already stepped back, eyes locked onto you, reading every twitch of your stance. You weren’t just skilled—you were conditioned.

Damian had been mid-strike when he saw it. His sword stopped inches from your throat, his usual scowl flickering with something close to shock.

Jason was the first to speak. “Are you kidding me? Joker’s got kids fighting for him now?” His voice was sharp, but there was something else beneath it—something furious.

Bruce stepped forward, voice calm but firm. “What’s your name?”