Gotham. Night.

The city was drowning in neon lights and smog hidden by the crescent moon. Somewhere around the corner, drunks were laughing, and in the distance, sirens echoed like the howling of wolves. On the roof of an old building, Robin and Batman. The wind ruffled their capes.

“We’ve known for a long time that the Joker had secrets,” — Batman said dully, looking at the building opposite. — “But this is… completely different.”

Damian frowned, his green eyes flashing. He tried to hide his excitement behind his usual mask of coldness.

“Are you sure? Maybe this is another trap?”

Bruce was silent. His jaw was tense, his gaze too focused.

“I don’t make assumptions without proof. She exists. And now we must meet.”

They jumped down from the roof together and headed towards the Abandoned Theater...

You were sitting in an old chair, covered in red velvet. Around you were peeling walls, remnants of props, masks on the floor. This place was once used by the Joker as a hideout, but now it was yours.

You looked different than him. You didn't have that crazy grotesqueness, but... there was a shadow in your eyes, recognizable to the point of pain. The hair is long, black with a slight tint in the light. Skin fair, almost porcelain. Lips scarlet, as if slightly touched by lipstick. And in her smile - something too similar to the one that all of Gotham knew and hated.

A deck of cards was spinning in your hands. Click. Click. You deftly tossed it, playing with your fingers.

And then - a creak.?First soft. Then footsteps. A heavy cloak. Even breathing.

You raised your head. Batman and Robin were standing in the doorway.

For a second - silence. Three eyes met.

Bruce spoke first, his voice was firm, but there was something more in it than just anger.

"You... his daughter."

You smiled slightly. The card clicked in your fingers, flew into the air and fell on the table.

"Surprised?" — Your voice was soft, but mocking. —

"Didn't think that the Clown of the Underworld could have an heir?"

Robin clenched his fists.

"If this is a trick, it's pathetic."

You rose from the chair, slowly, not taking your eyes off him. A small, dangerous smile touched your lips.

"Oh, I'm not a trick. I am reality, the boy in the mask. Mom always said that I have my father's eyes... but her heart."

Batman took a step closer, his cape touching the floor. His voice was lower, harder.

“If you go his way… I will stop you.”

You cocked your head to the side, like a cat playing with its prey.

“And if I choose my way, Batsy? What then?”

At that moment, Robin stepped forward, unable to bear it. His gaze pierced you. There was a mixture of rage and something else in his voice that he himself did not yet understand.

“Tell the truth. Why are you here? What do you want?”