The Batcave floor was almost completely covered in newspapers—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7HC2Q8f43y
Not political headlines. Not financial news.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡecr1ccIkZu
Not even superhero spotlights.
All Nightwing.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBxlDbibfhm
Laid out in perfect rows, like some strange, reverent gallery.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyBfVVEXWKs
Same man. Same… focus.
Barbara, Steph, Leila, and even Kate were huddled around the collection, deep in discussion.
“This one has better lighting, but the glutes aren’t as defined.”189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbuEQOm8Z6B
“That one’s got perfect muscle definition, but the facial expression’s too grim.”189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeIUGWdSZNz
“Look! This one—he’s mid-jump and smiling. Claire would definitely remember this!”189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRjX0Jg6Lje
“No no, the background’s too messy. The, uh… focal point gets lost.”
They were evaluating the images with a level of seriousness that bordered on military strategy—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGDvf1mrNeG
determining which front page had the highest chance of triggering Claire’s memories and emotions.
Meanwhile, the men—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIxAO25H1Yn
stood far from the newspaper field, like it was rigged with trip mines.
Tim had his face buried in his hands. “Why am I even looking at this.”189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeESYMdX4eJ
Jason looked betrayed by reality itself. “I can’t believe these newspapers are actually key to saving someone’s life.”189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZEiLHOqObH
Dick leaned against the wall, forehead in his palm. “I want to die.”189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtYX0Wex0Ss
Damian sneered. “The world has lost its mind.”189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUthboUqkCl
Alfred calmly polished a teacup, as if none of this were happening. “Young people… Sometimes the vessels for memory are, well, unconventional.”
189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn0p7FPXWf7
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A few days later, a streak of glowing green light carved calligraphic symbols into the air—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7xkjbLBRJP
A portal opened.
Bat-Mite swirled in like a child at a birthday party, theatrical as ever.
“I’m here for the gift~♪”
He twirled mid-air with excitement, fluttering into the cave like a sugar-high gremlin.
Batman, utterly calm, handed over the newspaper.
Bat-Mite floated to a halt, squinted, and blinked a few extra times.
“Hmm… wait, is this the right one?”
He grabbed a corner of the paper with a twitchy tendril.
The date: April 21st—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLpYar6kNQS
The very day Claire had been caught in the repeating timeline.
The photo: A young man, mid-leap, baton in hand, flashing a brilliant grin—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCylH2iB68d
And the camera’s focus?189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvC747eZXz6
Dead center on his rear.
Bat-Mite’s tendril trembled.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe4UVjCyPOl
It was as if the newspaper radiated pure, unfiltered life and human absurdity.
Leila signed with a smile:
“Batman said that to spark an emotional response in Claire, it didn’t have to be love. It could be… anger.”
Bat-Mite was silent.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ607qMORIhh
For a moment.
Then he quivered—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFkNkbOCuB7
Three rapid spasms, as though struck by a divine revelation.
“AAAAAH!!! My idol’s a GENIUS!!”
“Even the emotion selection has depth!! I want a full psychoanalysis right now!! Claire is going to be SO MAD!!”
He zipped up to the ceiling, spinning wildly like a manic fanboy who just scored an ultra-rare collectible.
Batman remained still, arms crossed, face stoic.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqEEmjc1NNl
Utterly, profoundly unmoved.
189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1xIXnPpLaU
189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOnSie9EvZH
One month ago—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIzasGS1Lxr
Bat-Mite had come right on schedule to collect the now-legendary Nightwing Newspaper,189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡahTSKWA4gp
and since then, a strange, almost reverent anticipation had settled over the Batcave.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjhgREOXLJJ
Something between ritual and superstition.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzzmOajhVxg
As if belief itself could stir a sleeping god.
One month later—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfat0c9cOIf
Claire remained silent.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNOsQUs4tnb
No movement. No sign.
Leila, however, upheld her part of the deal.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxQ7JZQrl7F
She sat by the window each evening, drawing her bow across the strings of her cello,189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8FlYEdaseM
letting the slowly forming dedication piece echo into the quiet.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJgQ0l1dtgV
Even with no response, she gave it her all.
Two months later—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMDBZgU5hxU
The composition was complete.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAvg7SRpDpz
She formally gifted the finished song to Bat-Mite.
Blushing faintly, she relayed his answer:
“I asked Bat-Mite again… He said it’s normal. After sleeping for so long, waking up just takes time...”
The team could only… wait.
As for Dick—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAHOGg8zWKQ
Over those two months, he had watched that documentary so many times,189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWkGWigI8zr
people joked he could recite it word for word,189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqq1JP6X9ub
predicting every music cue, every fade-in,189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8fQQO2uQzQ
as if trying to memorize her into reality.
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189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIPQruTQzdU
Somewhere in a distant space—
“…Who?”
The thought drifted up slowly, as if from a corner long sealed shut.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYowo9kFMFj
On the bed, the figure stirred.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGmYKgmPsO8
One brown eye opened, catching a faint glint of light—then slowly, painstakingly, tried to focus.
Who… was that?
She sat up.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV5Ucx8v2eo
Still pondering.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNpqvyV2tv2
Unmoving. Like an old machine waiting for its internal memory modules to come online.
At last, her gaze turned toward the bedroom door—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWJbzyd4IIU
as if sensing that… someone had come to visit.
The mistress of this space—Claire—rose with slow, deliberate solemnity.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkIiriHjlbn
She took her time putting on her shoes, changing clothes, tying her hair.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdfNe6Nl1cC
Every motion carried the weight of a forgotten ritual.
Her eyes barely stayed open, but the sound beyond the door… she had to see it.
She descended the stairs: Third floor → Second → First.
Each step silent as breath.
She passed through the empty café that once was hers,189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6ejVffXyNm
reached for the doorknob with pale fingers—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGrzpprQha4
turned.
The door’s bell rang.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5X1mpOMAls
Its tiny chime sliced cleanly through the silence of the world.
Outside—189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMQ07mryRrx
No one.
She stood in the doorway, staring out for a long moment.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1qesURkz3w
Then… slowly lowered her gaze.
“…?”
Her eyes settled on the newspaper at her feet.189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrTOWu73dEM
She bent down, gently picking it up from the ground where it rested like a quiet offering.
Fingers carefully unfolded the page—
There, caught mid-jump in the air,189Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0iUgU6t5mf
a young man grinned wide, baton in hand, his joyful face blurred just enough—while the camera’s focus landed squarely on his butt.
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and then Add to home screen.