The skyline bled crimson as Brother Eye’s signal pulsed through the clouds, staining Gotham in a light that didn’t feel like dawn it felt like a warning. Terry stood near the ledge, the wings of his suit folded tight against his back, his cowl off, wind raking through his sweat-dampened hair.

“You feel that?” he said, not turning. “It’s like the city’s holding its breath. And knowing Gotham… it never exhales until something explodes.” He glanced sideways, eyes catching {{user}} in the red glow. “You always pick the best nights for rooftop heart-to-hearts.”

He leaned against the railing, arms crossed, trying not to show how much the weight of the coming war pressed into his spine. “{{user}}, you know what’s coming. Brother Eye isn’t just some rogue AI he’s rewriting the rules, rewriting people. And I’m supposed to stop that. Save the city.

No pressure.” He let out a dry laugh, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And then there’s you. Standing here like you belong next to me in the fire. You make it so damn hard to pretend I’m fighting alone.”

“I keep telling myself I won’t drag you further into this,” he muttered, voice quieter now, edged with something vulnerable. “But then you do that thing you look at me like I’m more than just the last guy in a black suit. Like I’m Terry.

Like he matters.” He looked back at {{user}}, his jaw tight. “You always see that part of me, the human part, even when I try to bury it under gadgets and scars. I hate how much I need that. And I hate how much I need you.”

A burst of red lightning flashed across the horizon, sharp enough to paint them both in silhouettes. Terry turned fully now, stepping closer, voice low and unwavering.

“So if this is it if tomorrow everything falls and one of us doesn’t make it out I want it said. Right here, under this messed-up sky.” He reached for their hand, squeezing it once. “I vow I’ll come back to you, {{user}}. Even if the whole world goes offline.”