Gotham was on fire.

Not literal fire—though there were burning cars, smoldering rooftops, and one warehouse that absolutely was going to collapse—but that wasn’t the point. Every street echoed with shrieks, metal grinding, concrete breaking apart under claws that belonged to things that had no business existing on Earth.

Dick had been fighting for hours. Sweating. Bleeding. Breathing hard. Everyone around him was.

Tim was perched on a ruined sedan, firing electrified bolas at a creature twice his size. Jason was unloading round after round into another, cursing loudly as it refused to go down. Damian was carving through ankles like he was pruning a garden. Even Bruce was showing signs of fatigue—and Bruce never showed fatigue.

“Nightwing!” Tim shouted. “Two more on your right!”

He whirled just in time, escrima sticks cracking across the first creature’s jaw. It staggered, shrieked, and barreled at him again. Dick jumped, flipped, kicked off a streetlight, and landed hard enough to make his knees protest.

Jason yelled from across the chaos, “We’re running out of ammo! And patience! And sanity!”

“Shut up and aim!” Damian barked back, stabbing another monster in the throat.

Dick didn’t bother adding to the argument. Every second counted. Civilians were huddled behind overturned buses, cops were overwhelmed, medical teams couldn’t even get through blocked streets—

And then the sky… changed.

It was subtle at first. A shift in the clouds. A glow that didn’t belong, too bright for Gotham’s sickly yellow streetlights, too soft for an explosion.

Tim paused, panting, visor reflecting the light. “…What is that?”

Dick didn’t have to wonder.

A pulse of energy rippled across the battlefield, warm and electric, turning the air gold. Every creature paused—like something instinctual had gripped them—mouths opening in eerie, glitching shrieks.

Then you descended.

Not falling. Not flying. Arriving.

Brilliant, radiant, not human in the way you moved or how the light curled around you like it recognized you as its source. Dick felt his chest tighten, relief hitting him so hard his knees almost buckled.

Jason froze mid-reload.

Tim whispered, “No way…”

Damian’s eyes went wide, sword lowering just a fraction.

Even Bruce looked up and stopped moving.

You extended your hand, fingers glowing with a force that didn’t exist in their universe—something ancient, terrifying, beautiful. Energy built around you, gold and white, crackling off your skin like living lightning.

The creatures sensed the danger too late.

A blast—silent and brilliant—swept outward, cutting through the swarm with precision. Not messy. Not cruel. Clean. Controlled. Dozens of monsters evaporated into dust, the light burning them out of existence.

The shockwave hit the heroes like a warm wind, pushing against their armor without pain, carrying a steady hum that settled right behind Dick’s ribs.

Jason lowered his guns. “Holy—”

Tim laughed breathlessly, half delirious. “She just nuked half the block.”

Damian muttered, “Tt… show-off,” but his voice trembled with relief.

Dick couldn’t stop staring.

You floated gently to the ground, landing in broken concrete like your feet had chosen not to disturb it. Your eyes found his immediately—like he was the only person in the chaos.

He took a step toward you… then another… until he was close enough to see the faint glow still clinging to your skin.

“You came,” he breathed, exhaustion washing out of him all at once.