The Batcave - 11:00 PM
Tim Drake sat at the secondary console. He had upgraded the keyboard to a mechanical one because he typed faster than the membrane keys could register.
"You are staring, Sebastian," Tim said without looking away from the three monitors he was juggling.
I stood behind him with a pot of tea.
"I am observing," I corrected. "You have rerouted the traffic cam feeds through a VPN in Singapore. Why?"
"Latency reduction," Tim explained, bringing up a schematic of the Gotham Water Treatment Plant. "And to hide our trace. Whoever hacked the grid last week left a backdoor. I'm patching it."
I poured a cup of Earl Grey. The boy was efficient. He didn't have Dick's flair or Jason's fire. He had something else: bandwidth. He processed information like a machine.
"Batman is on site," Tim announced. "Telemetry is green. But his heart rate is elevated. Baseline is 58. He's at 72."
"He is angry," I noted. "Anger accelerates the pulse."
"No," Tim frowned. "It's not anger. It's... anticipation."
Ace Chemical Processing Plant - Sector 4
Batman kicked the door open. He didn't use a lockpick. He used his boot.
"Crane!" Batman shouted, his voice echoing through the vats of bubbling acid. "I know you're here! Come out and play!"
High above on the catwalk, The Scarecrow (Jonathan Crane) looked down. He wore his burlap mask, but he wasn't holding his usual fear gas canister. He held a device that looked like a pressurized flamethrower.
"Batman," Crane's voice scratched like dry leaves. "You seem eager tonight. Usually, you sneak."
"I'm tired of sneaking," Batman growled, walking onto the central platform. "I'm here to break you."
"Fascinating," Crane adjusted a valve. "My new formula is designed for exactly that. You see, fear is a survival mechanism. It keeps us from doing stupid things. What happens, I wonder, if we remove it entirely?"
Crane pulled the trigger.
A massive cloud of clear, odorless gas engulfed the platform.
"Gas!" Tim shouted in the cave. "Bruce, get the rebreather!"
Batman stood in the cloud. He didn't reach for his mask. He inhaled deeply.
"I don't need it," Batman said.
The gas cleared.
Batman stood there. He rolled his shoulders. A strange, terrifying grin spread across his face beneath the cowl.
"I feel... great," Batman laughed. It wasn't the Joker's laugh. It was the laugh of a god who just realized mortals can't hurt him.
"Subject is displaying symptoms of hyper-confidence," Crane noted into a recorder. "Total suppression of the amygdala. The 'Hubris' Toxin is a success."
Crane pressed a button. The catwalks began to retract. The vats of acid below began to rise. Turrets dropped from the ceiling.
"Run the gauntlet, Batman! If you can!"
Batman looked at the rotating blades and flame jets blocking the path to Crane.
"Easy," Batman said. He started walking. Straight toward a spinning turbine fan.
The Batcave
"He's going to get himself killed!" Tim yelled, typing furiously. "The gas—it turned off his fear response! He thinks he's invincible!"
"He is walking directly into a ventilation turbine," I observed calmly, though my grip tightened on the tea tray. "If he touches those blades, he will be mince."
Tim grabbed the headset.
"Bruce! Stop! You can't walk through that!"
"Watch me, Robin!" Bruce shouted back, sounding drunk on power. "I'm the Batman! Nothing cuts me!"
"It's titanium steel spinning at 4000 RPM!" Tim screamed. "It will cut you!"
Bruce didn't stop. He was ten feet away.
"He's not listening to warnings," Tim realized. "He thinks he can't lose. I have to... I have to use his ego against him."
Tim switched tactics instantly.
"Bruce!" Tim said, his voice dropping to a calm, challenging tone. "Walking through the fan is too easy. It's boring."
Batman paused. "Boring?"
"Yeah," Tim lied smoothly. "Any brute can smash a fan. But a genius... a genius would grapple to the conduit pipe above it, disable the power box with a ricochet shot, and shut the whole system down without even touching it. That's the real challenge."
Batman looked at the fan. Then he looked at the conduit pipe.
"A ricochet shot?" Batman mused. "Double bank off the railing?"
"Triple bank," Tim challenged. "Unless you can't do it."
"I can do anything!"
Batman fired his grapple. He swung over the deadly fan, twisting in mid-air. He threw a batarang.
PING. PANG. PUNG.
The batarang bounced off three surfaces and severed the power cable. The fan ground to a halt.
"Yes!" Tim exhaled.
"Well played, Master Tim," I nodded approvingly. "Reverse psychology. Simple, but effective."
"We're not done," Tim said, sweating. "He still has to get to Crane."
The Gauntlet
"Next level!" Crane shouted, pulling a lever.
The floor panels opened, revealing a pit of electrified water. A single, narrow beam connected the two sides.
Batman stepped onto the beam. He started running.
"I can make the jump!" Batman yelled.
"No, you can't!" Tim shouted. "The physics don't work! Bruce, listen to me! There's a pressure plate pattern on the beam! Fibonacci sequence! 1, 1, 2, 3!"
"Math is for nerds!" Batman yelled, preparing to leap.
"If you jump," Tim said quickly, "you let Crane win. He wants you to jump. It's a trap."
Batman stopped at the edge. "He wants me to jump?"
"Yes. He's mocking you. He thinks you're too stupid to see the pattern."
Batman's face darkened. "Nobody mocks me."
"Then show him," Tim commanded. "Step on the plates. One. One. Two. Three. Five."
Batman looked down. He stepped on the first plate. Click. Safe.
He stepped on the second. Click.
Guided by Tim's voice, the fearless, reckless Batman navigated the death trap like a puppet on a string. Tim didn't give orders; he gave challenges. He framed every safety precaution as a test of Batman's superiority.
Finally, Batman reached the control platform.
Crane scrambled back, dropping his remote. "Impossible! You should have fallen! You should be dead!"
Batman grabbed Crane by the burlap mask.
"I'm Batman," Bruce grinned maniacally. "I don't die."
He headbutted Crane, knocking him unconscious instantly.
The adrenaline began to fade. The toxin was wearing off.
Bruce swayed. He looked at the unconscious villain. He looked at the deadly traps he had just navigated.
He slumped against the railing, clutching his head.
"Bruce?" Tim's voice came over the comms, soft and worried. "You okay?"
Bruce breathed heavily. The fear was coming back. The realization of what he had almost done.
"I..." Bruce rasped. "I'm clear. Target secured."
He paused.
"Robin?"
"I'm here, Bruce."
"The fan," Bruce whispered. "The ricochet. That was... good advice."
"Just doing the math, Sir."
"Keep doing it."
The Batcave - Midnight
The Batmobile returned. Bruce stepped out. He looked exhausted, shaken by the loss of control.
He walked over to the computer console.
Tim stood up, looking nervous. "I didn't touch the grapple gun. I promise."
Bruce looked at the boy. He looked at the multiple screens, the schematics, the data streams.
"You saved me tonight," Bruce said.
"I just... pointed out the logic," Tim shrugged modestly.
"Jason had instinct," Bruce said, touching the memorial case. "Dick had talent. But you..."
Bruce placed a hand on Tim's shoulder.
"You have a brain. And right now... that's exactly what this mission needs."
Bruce turned to me.
"Sebastian. Give him a uniform."
Tim's eyes went wide. "Really?"
"Not the tunic," Bruce warned. "You're not ready for the field. But you're part of the team. We need a uniform for the Cave."
"I have just the thing," I said, opening a drawer.
I pulled out a sleek, black and red jacket with the "R" insignia on the chest. It was tactical, practical, and tech-heavy.
"The 'Red Robin' prototype," I explained. "Armored weave. WiFi enabled. And plenty of pockets for snacks."
Tim put on the jacket. It fit perfectly.
"Welcome to the family, Master Tim," I bowed.
Tim looked at his reflection in the computer screen. He smiled.
"Let's get to work," Tim said, sitting back down and cracking his knuckles. "I tracked a weird power surge in the Bowery while you were driving back. Someone is stealing electricity."
Bruce smiled—a real, genuine smile.
"Lead the way, Detective."
_________________________________________________________________________
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