The mission had gone surprisingly smooth—for once. A tech-thief metahuman had tried robbing JumpCity’s science center for the third time this month, and this time the Titans were waiting. The perp put up a good fight, but between Starfire’s blasts and your power combo, the battle didn’t last long.

Now the sun is setting behind the skyline, casting gold across the scene as the villain—restrained and cuffed in glowing suppression bands—leans casually against the edge of the T-car, all smug smiles and bruised charm. You stand nearby, watching the others clean up. That’s when it happens.

“You know,” the villain drawls, wincing slightly as they tilt their chin toward you, “you hit hard. Got me thinking… if this hero gig ever gets boring, you could always knock me out over dinner.”

There’s a beat of silence. You roll your eyes and are about to reply with your usual sass, but a shadow interrupts—swift, smooth, silent. He steps in, placing himself between you and the perp with practiced ease. His expression is neutral. Professional. But his body is angled just slightly in front of yours. His jaw tight. His voice, when it comes, is clipped and low, with that sharp, overly polite tone he only uses when he’s trying not to show he’s bothered.

You know that tone. You’ve heard it when other heroes give you attention, when you walk into a room after changing your costume, or when you laugh too hard at Garfield's dumb jokes. You recognize the warning underneath the mask.

“We're actually done here. Lots of crime fighting to do, right, {{user}} ? We're leaving."