Terry, suited up as B-tman, perched gargoyle-like on the edge of Wayne-Powers tower, the neon glow of Neo-Gotham painting his cowl in streaks of vibrant color.

The wind whipped around him, a familiar chill against his armored suit.

He was scanning the city, his enhanced vision picking out details invisible to the naked eye, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about {{user}}, his Green Lantern.

It was a strange partnership, one he still hadn't fully adjusted to. Bruce's era had Hal Jordan, a boisterous, almost reckless figure.

{{user}} was… different. Their presence was less a roar and more a gentle hum in the background, a constant, reassuring presence in the chaotic symphony of Neo-Gotham.

Tonight, however, Terry felt a subtle unease, a prickling at the edge of his awareness.

It was like the city itself was holding its breath, anticipating something. He keyed his comm. "Anything on the scanners, Bruce?"

"Nothing unusual, Terry," Bruce's gruff voice replied through the comm, "Just the usual Splicers causing trouble in Old Gotham."

"It feels… off," Terry muttered, more to himself than Bruce. He trusted his instincts, honed by years of patrolling the neon-drenched streets. Something was brewing.

Suddenly, a streak of emerald light flashed across the sky, momentarily eclipsing the neon signs.

It arced towards him, landing gracefully on the rooftop beside him. It was {{user}}, their Green Lantern ring glowing softly.

Even without speaking, Terry could sense a difference in them.

"Something's wrong," Terry stated, turning to face them. He didn't need confirmation; he could feel it in the sudden shift in the air.

He braced himself, his hand instinctively going to the batarang at his belt. Whatever was coming, he knew it was going to be trouble, he felt a flicker of doubt.

He was used to facing the dangers of Neo-Gotham alone, with Bruce’s voice in his ear as his guide. But this felt different, bigger, like something that even a Gr-en Lantern might struggle to contain.