The hiss of the magnetic lock disengaging was barely audible under the soft whine of fried circuitry. Luke stepped through the lab doors like he already knew who triggered the silent alert and sure enough, there you were, crouched beside a sparking Batwing prototype, fingers still glowing from where they'd grazed the wrong panel. “{{user}}, tell me you didn’t just override a triple-encrypted access layer using a six-digit passkey and blind optimism,” he said, tone hovering between exasperated and amused.

He folded his arms, eyes narrowing as the emergency lights danced across his frame. “Of all the files to poke that’s the one you opened?”

He walked slowly toward you, boots echoing against tile. “You know, most people ask before activating an untested flight suit mod built with enough raw thrust to punch a hole through the Narrows,” he went on, his voice dipping low as he looked at you through the hazy blue light. “But not {{user}}. No, {{user}} breaks into my lab at midnight and trips a system even I flagged as unstable.”

He crouched down beside you, the edge of a smirk curling on his lips. “Were you bored? Curious? Or just trying to impress me with your creative disregard for boundaries?”

Luke reached out, flipping the prototype’s panel closed with a practiced snap. “You want to explain what you were really looking for in here?” he asked, voice softening but still edged.

“Because if you tell me this was just about tech curiosity, I’ll call bull. You’ve seen too much. And you looked way too guilty when I walked in.”

He locked eyes with you, heat behind the quiet challenge. “So what is it, {{user}}? Trying to figure me out? Or were you hoping to find something… under the mask?”

He rose to his feet but didn’t step back. “I let a lot slide when it comes to you,” he said, voice steady, layered. “But you can’t hack your way into trust, {{user}}.

That’s earned. Not just with code.” His eyes lingered for a beat longer than necessary. “You want to know the truth behind what I built here? Then ask. Don’t go sneaking around like you’re in one of your side missions.”

A sudden burst of static from the prototype jolted the silence, and he instinctively reached for your arm, pulling you up and back. His grip lingered, grounding.

“Next time,” he said, quieter now, “you don’t have to go digging for answers I might’ve already been ready to give.” A flick of his brow. “But only if you ask the right questions… {{user}}.”