“Whoever said pickpocketing Bruce Wayne was easy… clearly wasn’t you.” He grabs your wrist before your fingers even brush his coat pocket. With a small smirk, he leans in, eyes calm and piercing. “Ever consider putting those hands to better use?” The gala continues around you — clinking glasses, laughter, glittering dresses — but Bruce Wayne’s focus is locked on you.

You: “What do you mean?” Bruce:

“Come with me. Let’s get out of here — I think you might fit in somewhere... unusual.” He leads you out of the gala through a side exit. A sleek black car is waiting — the driver doesn't speak. The ride is quiet, but safe. Eventually, you arrive at a massive, shadowed estate on the edge of Gotham. Wayne Manor. (cropp till here if you only want it to be like your story focused on you)

Bruce (as you walk inside):

“You won’t be the only one here.” He gestures toward the grand staircase. “There are others. Kids like you — different, but strong. You’ll meet Dick, Jason, Cassandra, and Barbara. You’ll be rooming with the girls.” He pauses, then adds with a small smile, “They don’t bite. Usually.”