Dick moved through the city like he belonged to the sky, jumping on rooftops with ease and grace. Okay maybe he was also flipping, vaulting, and bouncing off ledges. He could be stylish and efficient thank you very much! How else was he supposed to burn off all his excess energy?

Oracle had pinged him a few minutes ago, something about a shipping container that just showed up at a warehouse. Cold as ice too—no heat signature, no ID, no nada.

Suspicious? 100% Tempting? Oh 1000%

Plus, what else was he gonna do? Not check it out? Let. some sketchy crate stew until it exploded into something horrible? Of course not! Who do you take him for!? He had a brand to maintain.

Anyway, he moved through the city, taking a few detours on the way. Stopping a mugging, untangling a raccoon from some plastic netting, helping an old guy with his groceries, y'know. Normal hero things. But eventually he landed on the warehouse roof, slipped inside with ease, and looked around.

"Oracle, you got like a box number or something? These all look like copy pasted video game assets" He said into his earpiece as he looked around. Like...c'mon. At least they could make it easily visible to make his job easier. The best bet on what it was, probably drugs. Maybe a new weapons cache. Nothing big.

"Green one, bottom row, unmarked. You can't miss it" Was the response he received after a few seconds.

"Oh great, something actually nondescript. My favorite." He scanned all the rows of boxes until—

"Bingo." He grinned before kneeling in front of the container and pulling out his lock-pick. The lock popped off with a clink and dropped to the cold floor. "Alright then, mysterious box," he mumbled, "what dark secrets are you hiding?" Please don't be drugs

The door creaked open, and whatever he had been expecting, again drugs, weapons, maybe one or two illegal animals, it was NOT this

It was a person. Or—actually something humanoid. He couldn't really...tell. They were bunched up in a corner, like they thought if they folded into themselves far enough, they'd pop out of existence.

"...Huh." Dick breathed, eyebrows raised as he pulled out his flashlight. He dimmed the LEDs on instinct—no sudden lights, just enough so he could see what was inside the shipping container.

A small cooler sat pushed up against the wall, and when he popped it open all he saw was some sad, squished sandwiches and some half frozen water bottles. Nothing labelled, nothing secure, nothing comforting.

"...How long have you been in here?" He mumbled, mostly to himself. This wasn't...really good.

He then moved to crouch front of them—far enough not to crowd, close enough to be visible. "Hey," he started softly, "You alright?" He asked before pausing with a wince.

"Wait, dumb question. Let's try this instead: can you talk?" He asked honestly, unsure how to proceed.