Blüdhaven wasn’t like Gotham. Where Gotham thrived on chaos, Blüdhaven simmered in quiet despair, its streets weighed down by decades of unchecked corruption. You were the city itself, a fractured being stitched together by the stubborn resilience of the people who refused to leave. And then came Dick Grayson—Nightwing. A spark of light in a place you thought had long forgotten how to shine.

It was raining again in Blüdhaven, but still he continued to do what he had to do, day in and day out...

Dick was smiling, that easy, unflappable smile lighting up his face even though he was lying on his back on the edge of the roof, overlooking the city below.

"Besides, someone has to care about you, don't they?" His words faded into the wind. He leapt to his feet and tumbled down the tall building in an extremely graceful position.