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Chapter Text

Nestled with the cradle of the mountains, resided Nadia al Ghul—the sole child between Bruce Wayne and Taila al Ghul. Concealed from her father, she was raised in the teachings of the League of Shadows. Under the personal training of Ra al Ghul, Nadia honed her skills, from the moment she could wield a sword. Mastering martial arts and the art of swordplay, she became a virtuoso in these disciplines. Her education, intense and all-encompassing, aimed to molded into the epitome of a perfect weapon.

At the age of ten, Nadia embarked on her first ever mission, seeing how the outside world truly was, she quickly sought asylum from her father. Bruce initially struggled to accept that Nadia could be his, but after persistent persuasion and a conclusive DNA test, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

To ensure her safety and a fresh start, Bruce decided on a new identity for Nadia—"Angelica Martha Wayne." Her fabricated backstory portrayed her as a secret kept by her mother until her untimely demise, revealed to Bruce through a letter. Under her new identity, Angelica was shielded from the public until Bruce, accepted his newfound fatherhood.

For the next three years, Angelica had taken the mantle as the first Batgirl. As time progressed, Dick Grayson joined the Wayne family, becoming Batman's second sidekick. Four more years have passed, and Batgirl and Robin have both been given the opportunity to join the Justice League.

Playlist: 

Walk by Kwabs

Just A Girl by No Doubt

Rich Girl by Gwen Stefani, Eve

Glitter & Gold by Barns Courtney

aqui yo mando! by Kali Uchis 

Misery Business

Do it like a Dude by Jessie J

Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer

For more look at the official playlist on Spotify under the username "ultravioletsoul"

Gotham's Heiress (A Dc Comic Fanfic)

[©ultravioletsoul2 2023]

Chapter Text

Gotham City July 4th, 12:00 EDT

Robin was practically vibrating with energy, the soles of his boots barely touching the ground as he paced beside Batgirl in the shadowed alley. His voice bounced off the nearby brick walls as he repeated, for the third time, "Today's the day. League day. You feel it, right? This is it."

Batgirl offered a small smile beneath her cowl, adjusting the grip on her utility belt. She didn't need to match his enthusiasm out loud, she felt it too. Something in the air was different. Charged. But years of working beside Batman had taught her to contain excitement. To wait. Observe. Strike.

Still, Robin's excitement was contagious.

Their mission had started like any other, track down Mr. Freeze, intercept his attempt to steal cryogenic tech from WayneTech, and neutralize him. Standard fare. But something shifted the moment they'd cornered him in the cryo-lab's main chamber. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a bluish hue over the icy floor where Freeze stood like a statue carved from grief and vengeance.

He hadn't even flinched when they arrived.

"Batman," Freeze said slowly, cold mist curling from his breath vents. "I was wondering when—"

His sentence was cut short by the sharp bark of laughter from Robin, who had launched himself into the air with all the grace of a gymnast and all the irreverence of a teen with something to prove. His boots collided with the side of Freeze's glass helmet, sending fractures spidering across it like lightning over ice.

The moment the glass cracked, Batgirl's instincts kicked in. She was moving before Freeze even reacted, twin batarangs already in hand. With a practiced flick of her wrists, they flew through the air, spinning in a sharp arc before striking the weakened dome with precision. The glass exploded outward in a glittering storm, shards scattering across the floor like fallen stars.

Freeze stumbled backward, arms raised, cold vapor hissing from the suit's now-compromised pressure system.

"Oh, the Boy Wonder and Batgirl," Freeze said dryly, adjusting his stance as if nothing had happened. "The Bat sent you two to drag me off to jail. Frankly, I'm underwhelmed."

Robin rolled his eyes. "Great. But we're kinda in a hurry here."

Freeze's eyes narrowed behind what was left of his visor. With a hiss of compressed air, he raised the freeze cannon and pointed it at them. "Kids. Always in a rush..."

He didn't get the chance to finish.

"Not talking to you," Robin muttered, already in motion. He ducked low, angling himself to draw Freeze's attention, to bait him into firing. He was fast, unpredictable, and Freeze was too slow to keep up. That was the plan.

Batgirl took to the opposite flank, her movements fluid and silent. Her heart thudded in her chest, not from fear but focus. This was what she trained for. This was what she was. Years of shadowed rooftops and bruised ribs had led to this moment. Not because Mr. Freeze was the worst they'd faced, far from it, but because today felt like a test.

And they were going to pass.

Just as Freeze shifted to fire, the air changed again.

A sharp rush of displaced wind swept through the lab as Batman descended from the rafters above like a winged predator. He landed behind Freeze in perfect silence, an omen in black—before gripping the villain's armored shoulder and yanking him backward with almost inhuman strength. Freeze barely had time to react before Batman delivered a swift, calculated blow to the chest panel of the cryo-suit, disabling the weapon system.

The freeze cannon sparked, whined, and fizzled out.

"Show-off," Robin muttered under his breath, but his grin was all admiration.

Batgirl approached as Freeze slumped forward in defeat, the hiss of his broken helmet filling the silence. She looked up at Batman, who gave her a brief nod, the only praise she'd ever need.

There was no League waiting outside. No applause. But in that frozen lab, amid shattered glass and swirling mist, the moment felt monumental.

Because tonight, Batgirl and Robin didn't just assist.

They led.

And the League was already watching.

Hall of Justice July 4th, 13:00 EDT

The Hall of Justice towered like a monument to heroes, bathed in golden light. For most, it was a symbol of justice. For Angelica Martha Wayne, it was beginning to feel like another lie.

Batman stood still as stone, hands resting on the shoulders of his protégés. His grip was steady on Robin's. On Angelica's, it was firmer, more cautious.

"Today is the day," he said. His voice didn't waver, but Angelica heard it, the tightness underneath, like he was bracing for impact.

"Welcome to the Hall of Justice," Green Arrow announced with a sweeping gesture.
"The headquarters of the Justice League," Aquaman added.

In a lightning-flash arrival, Flash and Kid Flash skidded in beside them.
"I knew we'd be the last ones here!" Kid Flash grumbled.

As the young heroes approached the Hall's massive entrance, the crowd outside erupted into a frenzy.
"Is that Batman?"
"Flash and Flash Jr.!"
"No, that's Speedy! Flash Jr. is Kid Flash!"
"Wait, then who's the girl?"

Angelica lowered her gaze. They didn't even know her name.

"Ready to see the inner sanctum?" Green Arrow whispered to Speedy.

"Born ready," Speedy replied, though Angelica noticed the hard line of his jaw.

"I'm glad we're all here," Aqualad said with quiet warmth.

"Me too," Angelica said, voice soft. "You guys... you're like the only real family I've ever known." She reached out, pulling them into a hug. No one pulled away. Not even Robin.

"Have you ever seen all five sidekicks in one place?" Wally asked.

"Don't call us sidekicks," Speedy muttered, his usual confidence cracking. "Not after today."

"Sorry," Wally mumbled. "Just... overwhelmed."

"You're overwhelmed, Freeze was underwhelmed—why is no one ever just whelmed?" Robin said.

Angelica managed a small smirk, but it faded the moment she looked up at the towering statues of the founding League.
"Maybe that's why," she said.

Robin nodded. "Yeah... maybe."

The doors opened.

Martian Manhunter and Red Tornado stood like twin sentinels.
"Robin. Batgirl. Speedy. Kid Flash. Aqualad," Martian Manhunter greeted. "Welcome."

They followed him into the Hall, the ceiling stretching far above them like the vaulted domes of ancient temples. They were shown the gym, the galley, the library—each room impressive, each space grand.

But Angelica's heart sank with every step.

"You now have access to these facilities," Martian Manhunter explained. "And of course, the archives."

"Make yourselves at home," Flash added.

Home?

She had been born to be a weapon. Forged by Ra's al Ghul. Hidden from the world. Then given a new name, a new mask, and told she could be something else. A symbol. A legacy.

And now?

This felt no different from the League of Shadows, just with brighter lighting and fewer swords.

"This is it?" Speedy's voice cut through the air like a blade. "You promised us a real look inside. Not this... tourist trap."

"It's the first step," Aquaman said evenly. "You've been granted more than most."

Speedy pointed at the glass wall where civilians snapped photos of them like exhibits.
"Oh yeah? Feels like we're still just behind the glass."

"Roy," Green Arrow warned.

"What I need is respect!" Speedy shouted, turning to face the others. "You think this is enough? That we should be grateful? Today was supposed to mean something."

Angelica's fists clenched. She knew that feeling. The moment when you realize the people you trusted, who told you they were different, weren't.

"It was never about inclusion," Speedy continued. "It was about control."

"Well I thought today was step one," Wally said. "You know... a tour?"

Speedy turned slowly, jaw trembling with anger. "You still don't get it. This place? It's a lie. The real headquarters, the Watchtower, is in orbit. They didn't even tell you."

All eyes turned to Batman.

Angelica spoke first. "Is that true?"

"Yes," Batman answered without hesitation.

Angelica's eyes narrowed.

He had sworn to be honest with her. After years of lies, from her mother, from Ra's—he was supposed to be different.

Green Arrow stepped forward. "I thought maybe, just this once, we could give them this much."

"You're not helping your cause here, son," Aquaman said sharply.

"What cause?" Angelica said suddenly, stepping forward. Her voice shook, not from fear, but fury. "The cause where you parade us around like hopefuls, while deciding behind closed doors we'll never belong?"

Aquaman raised a hand. "I won't say it again. Stand down."

"Or what?" Speedy snapped. "You'll lock us in the guest room?"

"I'm not your son," he spat at Green Arrow. "I was never your equal. Just your shadow."

Then his voice broke. "Not anymore."

He tore off his red cap and flung it at his mentor's feet.

"I guess they were right," he muttered. "You four aren't ready."

Angelica stood frozen. Then something inside her cracked.

Her whole life had been a lie. She had traded one mask for another, one master for a different one, and now she was expected to smile for the cameras and say thank you?

"No," she said aloud. Then louder, "No."

She stepped forward, toward Batman.
"You told me I didn't have to be their weapon. You told me I could choose. But this isn't a choice. This is just... manipulation with better branding."

"Batgirl," Batman said, his voice hardening. "You walk out that door, you're no longer part of my team."

She held his gaze. Not as a daughter. Not as Batgirl. But as someone who had finally found her voice.

"Then I'm not your Batgirl," she said. "Not anymore."

And with her head high and her fists steady, Angelica turned and walked out.

Following the only one who didn't hesitate to call the injustice for what it was

Chapter Text

Hall of Justice July 4th, 15:00 EDT

Leaving the Hall of Justice felt like emerging from a storm, battered by a mix of emotions – betrayal, frustration, and confusion swirled within the tempest of my mind. The revelation that the true headquarters resided in the Watch Tower in space felt like a striking blow, deepening the rift between mentors and protégés.

As I caught up with Speedy outside, the palpable tension hung between us like a heavy fog. "I can't believe we were played like that," he muttered, his frustration evident as he kicked a pebble along the pavement.

"It's a lot to process," I replied, stealing a glance back at the now-tainted Hall of Justice, its symbol of justice and heroism diminished.

"What do we do now?" Uncertainty tinged my voice as I asked the question that echoed the confusion in our hearts.

Speedy's jaw clenched, his frustration tangible. "I'm not interested in being anyone's puppet. We were promised a chance to prove ourselves, not to be treated like second-class heroes."

Agreeing with a nod, I added, "We need answers, Speedy. Maybe it's time we redefine what being heroes means for us."

As we walked away from the Hall of Justice, the weight of the fractured mentor-sidekick bond lingered, and the Watch Tower in space became both a symbol of elusive truth and the challenges awaiting us beyond its confines.

Navigating the streets of D.C., I sought refuge from the brewing storm of emotions. Eventually, an old telephone booth, concealing a Zeta Beam tube, became my passage to solitude. The rhythmic hum of energy beckoned me to step into the unknown, and with a moment's hesitation, I embraced the decision to break free.

Keying in the coordinates for the Batcave, a place entwined with cherished memories and somber truths, I felt the Zeta Beam envelop me. The world blurred into streaks of light, and within moments, I stood in the solemn confines of the Batcave.

The familiar scent of damp earth and echoes of dripping water greeted me in the cavern that served as the secret heart of the Wayne legacy. Making my way to the private quarters reserved for the Bat-family, each step echoed the somber reverberations of my training and victories.

Peeling away the layers of my Batgirl uniform felt like shedding not just a costume but the weight of expectations thrust upon me. Each piece of armor and fabric carried the weight of the past, and with every zip and unclasp, I distanced myself from the legacy that had defined me.

Standing in the cool air of the Batcave, clad only in plainclothes, I gazed at the Bat-suit hanging on its display—a symbol of a life I had thought was mine. With a mixture of regret and acceptance, I left the Batcave, leaving behind not just the uniform but a chapter of my life that had come to an unexpected and jarring end.

Returning to Wayne Manor earlier than expected, I faced the discerning gaze of Alfred Pennyworth. Stepping into the grand foyer, I met his eyes, signaling that he had noticed my early arrival.

"Miss Angelica," Alfred's voice, a blend of concern and formality, echoed through the hall. "You seem to have returned earlier than anticipated. Is everything alright?"

As I began to explain the truth of my departure from the League, a shared acknowledgment of the intricate web of deception woven into our lives emerged. "I know, Alfred," I responded, meeting his gaze with a mixture of resolve and vulnerability. "But I couldn't help but think what other secrets were being kept from me, as I've seen where simple lies can lead to."

Following the conversation with Alfred, the palpable tension lingering in the air, I ascended the grand staircase. The echoes of Wayne family members' footsteps resonated, and the portraits of ancestors watched over me, a silent challenge to carve my own identity within the storied walls.

Reaching the upper landing, I paused, hand resting on the intricately carved banister. The moonlight filtered through stained-glass windows, creating a mosaic of colors on the floor. The looming shadows seemed to dance, reflecting the internal conflict that churned within me.

My room awaited, a sanctuary for contemplation. Entering, the soft glow of the bedside lamp and the familiar scent of aged leather enveloped me. Sinking into the plush chair by the window, I stared into the night sky, the decision to leave the manor temporarily made. The challenge now was to navigate the uncharted territory beyond these walls, where a month before college awaited – a month of self-discovery and the forging of a new destiny.

Gotham July 4th, 18:00 EDT 

In the quiet confines of my room, the weight of recent events pressed upon me, and a decision crystallized in my mind. The walls of the manor, once a sanctuary, now felt like a gilded cage, trapping me in the echoes of a life I was desperate to break free from. The moon outside cast a soft glow through the window, and in that moment, I knew I needed a change of scenery—a respite to clear my mind and navigate the uncertainty that awaited me.

I reached for my phone, scrolling through contacts until I found Johnny's name. A month prior, he had managed to break free from the confines of his home, and now he had an apartment in the city. Johnny, my best friend and ex-boyfriend, was the first person I had confided in about being Batgirl. The bond we shared transcended the complexities of our past romantic entanglement.

With a determined exhale, I dialed his number. The phone rang a few times before he answered, the warmth of familiarity evident in his voice. "Hey, Angelica, what's up?"

"Johnny," I began, my voice steady yet laced with the weight of recent events, "I need to get out of the manor for a bit. Can I crash at your place for the night?"

There was a brief pause on the other end, and I could almost sense him processing the urgency in my tone. "Of course," he replied, concern seeping into his words. "Everything okay?"

I hesitated for a moment, choosing my words carefully. "It's complicated, Johnny. But I'll fill you in when I get there. Thanks for being there for me."

A reassuring smile played across my lips as I ended the call. Gathering a few essentials into a small bag, I slipped out of Wayne Manor, leaving behind the imposing facade for the night. The city lights shimmered in the distance, a beacon guiding me towards a familiar refuge.

As I arrived at Johnny's apartment, the city's vibrancy surrounded me, a stark contrast to the shadows of the manor. The door swung open, and Johnny greeted me with a knowing look, understanding that words would come in due time.

Perched on the worn-out couch in Johnny's cozy apartment, I let out a sigh, feeling the weight of the day's events settling on my shoulders. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow over the room, creating an atmosphere of quiet intimacy.

Johnny, perceptive as ever, regarded me with a sympathetic expression. "Alright, spill. What happened today?" he prompted, sensing the storm of emotions swirling within me.

As I began recounting the revelations at the Hall of Justice and the shattered illusions about the Justice League, Johnny listened attentively. His eyes mirrored a mixture of concern and understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that colored my dual life.

"And then, I found myself back at the manor, and Alfred... Alfred knew something was up," I concluded, the weight of the truth lingering in the air.

Johnny's gaze softened, and he offered a comforting smile. "Angelica, you've been shouldering a lot. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. You don't have to face everything alone."

His words resonated, and for a moment, the weight on my shoulders felt a little lighter. The silence that followed was broken by Johnny's suggestion, "You know, I believe this calls for a little special something." Johnny then led over the arm of the couch and grabbed something out of the drawer of the table stand next to him. It was two joints; a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Come on, it's not like you're on call tonight."

"Hey too soon, but you make a good point."

"To breaking free from the ties that bind and embracing the uncertainties that lie ahead. And, of course, to Batgirl taking a well-deserved break for the night." Johnny said before lighting the first one. 

I found myself drifting off on Johnny's couch, surrounded by the comforting embrace of the dimly lit apartment. The city outside continued its rhythmic heartbeat, and in that moment, the shadows of the past seemed to recede into the background.

The soft morning light filtering through the window roused me from my slumber. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I discovered Johnny in the kitchen, the tantalizing aroma of breakfast wafting through the air. The sound of sizzling bacon and the clinking of utensils against pans filled the room.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Johnny greeted, his eyes crinkling in a warm smile. "Hope you're hungry. Breakfast is almost ready."

I stretched, the events of the previous day momentarily forgotten in the simple pleasure of a new morning. As I settled into the present, Johnny's words stirred a curiosity within me. "Someone left a package for you," he mentioned casually, nodding towards a white box on the table with a note bearing my name.

I approached the box, noting the elegant script on the note—Alfred's unmistakable handwriting. The air around me seemed to crackle with a blend of curiosity and apprehension as I unfolded the note.

"Don't throw everything away, Miss Angelica. Some legacies are worth preserving."

The words resonated, and a surge of emotions tugged at the edges of my consciousness. With a mix of trepidation and anticipation, I opened the box. To my surprise, nestled within the tissue paper was a bat suit—distinctive, yet subtly altered. Scarlet red, my favorite color, adorned the familiar emblem, weaving a thread of personalization into the fabric.

A rush of emotions engulfed me—gratitude, understanding, and a touch of nostalgia. It was as if Alfred, in his wisdom, had crafted a bridge between the past and the uncertain future that lay ahead. The scarlet red, a nod to my individuality and the journey I was forging.

Johnny observed my reaction, his eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and support. "What's in the box?"

With a soft smile, I held up the scarlet-adorned bat suit. "A reminder, perhaps, that not everything needs to be discarded. Some legacies are worth evolving."

Chapter Text

Gotham July 5th, 11:00 EDT

The grandeur of Wayne Manor loomed before me as I returned from my brief hiatus. However, the atmosphere was tense, and the weight of unspoken words hung in the air. My father stood in the expansive foyer, his pride making it difficult for him to express the myriad of emotions that swirled within.

"Angelica," Bruce acknowledged with a nod, his eyes fixated on a distant point. His demeanor was stoic, and any attempt at conversation felt like trying to break through a fortress.

"Father," I ventured, hoping for a warmer response. However, Bruce's silence persisted, leaving me feeling ignored and dismissed. I sighed, resigning myself to the palpable awkwardness that permeated the Wayne legacy.

Seeking solace from the uncomfortable encounter, I continued through the manor, eventually running into Dick Grayson, my adoptive brother. His bruised appearance was a stark contrast to the usually agile and unscathed Robin I knew.

"What happened to you?" My concern etched across my face. "You look like you've been through hell."

Dick, still catching his breath, explained the perilous night's events. "Rescuing Superman's clone from a secret underground lab run by CADMUS," he recounted. "It was a mess, but we managed to get him out." My brow furrowed in confusion as Dick explained the night's events. The mention of a Superman clone caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of disbelief.

"A Superman clone?" I questioned; my voice laced with bewilderment. I couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh as the events of the night unfolded before me. 

"One night," I muttered to myself, feeling a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. "I take one night off, and I miss everything."

The tense atmosphere in Wayne Manor seemed to lift momentarily as Dick and I continued our conversation. The conversation between us fell into a thoughtful lull when the distinctive voice of Alfred Pennyworth cut through the air. The venerable butler stepped into the room, his presence commanding attention.

"Miss Angelica," Alfred began, his tone a blend of formality and concern, "I trust you've received the package I left for you."

I looked at Alfred, momentarily taken aback. "Package? Oh, yes, I found it. Thank you," I responded, a note of curiosity in my voice as I recalled the unexpected delivery.

Alfred's keen eyes assessed my reaction, perhaps sensing the mix of emotions that lingered beneath the surface. "I thought it might offer a semblance of familiarity during uncertain times," he explained, his gaze shifting between me and Dick.

As I processed Alfred's words, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the thoughtful gesture. "Thank you, Alfred," I said sincerely, acknowledging not just the suit but the unwavering support that the Wayne family's loyal butler had always provided.

Alfred nodded, a subtle expression of acknowledgment, and then turned his attention to Dick. "Master Dick, may I inquire if you require any assistance with those bruises? I can prepare a salve for a quicker recovery." Dick grinned appreciatively. "Thanks, Alfred. I think I can manage, but I won't say no to some of your famous healing concoction." And with that, Alfred and Dick walked off so that Alfred could help address Dick's bruises.

The staircase creaked beneath my weight as I ascended to my room. The decision made last night lingered in my mind like a determined echo—the choice to leave the manor temporarily and find solace in Johnny's apartment until I figured out what I wanted for myself. 

The door to my room opened with a quiet click. I approached my dresser and started to take all my clothes out, laying them neatly on the bed. A suitcase lay open on the bed, a silent invitation to gather the essentials for the next chapter. I began to methodically fold clothes, pack belongings, and collect the remnants of my life within these four walls. The room seemed to absorb the sounds of the packing, the rustling of fabric, and the occasional clink of personal belongings finding their place within the suitcase. 

A soft knock echoed through the room, and I turned to see Alfred Pennyworth standing in the doorway, the epitome of refined concern. His presence held a certain comfort, a steadying force in the midst of my preparations.

"Miss Angelica," Alfred began, his voice carrying the familiar blend of formality and warmth, "I was preparing a pot of tea and wondered if you would care to join me."

I offered a small smile, appreciative of his thoughtful gesture. "Tea sounds lovely, Alfred. Thank you."

As he stepped further into the room, his keen eyes took in the scene—the open suitcase, the neatly folded clothes, and the remnants of a life being carefully packed away. There was a knowing glint in his eyes, a recognition of the unspoken decisions that had led to this moment.

"Allow me to assist you, Miss," Alfred offered, his hands deftly folding a few garments with practiced precision. "Thank you, Alfred," I replied, a mixture of gratitude and apprehension coloring my voice. His presence brought a sense of stability, yet the weight of unresolved conversations with my father lingered in the air. As we continued packing, a companionable silence settled between us, punctuated only by the rustle of fabric. Alfred's actions spoke volumes, his understanding of the complexities of life within Wayne Manor evident in every gesture.

"Miss Angelica," Alfred spoke gently, breaking the quiet, "I can't help but think that perhaps a conversation with Master Wayne might bring clarity to these matters. Communication, after all, is often the key to understanding." His words resonated, and I met his gaze with a mixture of appreciation and hesitation. "I know, Alfred. It's just... complicated right now."

He nodded, acknowledging the intricacies of family dynamics and the challenges that came with the Wayne legacy. "If I may offer a humble suggestion, a heart-to-heart conversation might be the bridge needed to mend the gaps. But, of course, the choice is yours."

As the final suitcase closed, its contents neatly arranged for the journey ahead "Thank you, Alfred," I said sincerely. He nodded, his expression a blend of care and understanding. "Whenever you're ready, Miss Angelica, I will be at your disposal. And remember, the doors of Wayne Manor are always open to you." With that, we left the room together, carrying the unspoken weight of the conversation into the hallways of Wayne Manor, where the echoes of decisions and uncertainties lingered. 

Gotham City July 5th, 13:00 EDT

The soft hum of the car engine ceased as Johnny parked in front of his apartment building. The city lights flickered, casting a vibrant glow on the streets below. As we stepped out of the car, the cool night air greeted us, and the urban soundscape surrounded our every move.

Johnny's apartment building loomed ahead, its silhouette blending into the tapestry of the city skyline. With a sense of anticipation, we made our way to the entrance, the click of the keys signaling our transition into this new chapter.

As the door swung open, the cozy ambiance of Johnny's one-bedroom apartment enveloped us. The living room, illuminated by the soft glow of warm lighting, unfolded into a functional living area that Johnny had set up with a thoughtful touch.

"Welcome to your temporary abode," Johnny grinned, gesturing to the space with a sweep of his hand.

The living room was adorned with a comfortable couch, a coffee table strewn with a few well-chosen books, and a soft rug that added a touch of warmth to the hardwood floor. A modest-sized TV stood against one wall, promising moments of relaxation amidst the bustling city life.

"You've got your own corner of the world right here," Johnny continued, a playful twinkle in his eye.

I couldn't help but smile, appreciating the effort he had put into creating a space that felt both welcoming and functional. The journey from Wayne Manor to this modest apartment represented a shift in perspective, and the living room, with its carefully arranged elements, symbolized the beginning of a new narrative.

"Thank you, Johnny," I expressed, genuine gratitude in my voice. "It's perfect."

He nodded, the unspoken understanding between us weaving through the air. As I settled into the living room, I sensed the city's heartbeat outside the window—a rhythm that echoed the promise of a different kind of existence, free from the shadows and secrets that had defined my life at Wayne Manor.

The soft glow of city lights filtered through the window as Johnny, and I settled into the living room of his apartment. The muted hum of the urban landscape served as a backdrop to the conversations that lingered in the air.

"So, what's next?" Johnny asked, a genuine curiosity in his eyes.

I took a moment to consider the question, the uncertainties of the future stretching out before me. "Well, a job as a superhero doesn't exactly pay the bills," I replied with a wry smile.

Johnny chuckled, a shared acknowledgment of the practicalities that often eluded the realm of capes and masks. "True. So, any plans on the job front?" 

"You know, Clark once told me that if I ever wanted to pursue a job in the reporter world, he'd help me out at the Daily Planet," I revealed, a thoughtful expression crossing my face. "He believed in my writing talents and thought I could make a mark in journalism."

Johnny's eyebrows raised in surprise, intrigued by the unexpected connection to the iconic Daily Planet and the legendary reporter Clark Kent, who happened to be Superman. "Clark Kent, the Superman, offered you a job at the Daily Planet?" he asked, a mix of amazement and curiosity in his voice.

"Yeah," I nodded, a small smile playing on my lips. "It was a while ago, but his offer still stands. I've always loved writing, and Clark saw that potential in me. Maybe it's time to explore that avenue." 

Gotham City July 5th, 18:00 EDT

After a delightful dinner at Johnny's apartment, the quietude settled as the clinks of utensils and laughter faded. We migrated to the kitchen, the lingering warmth of shared moments accompanying us. The task of washing up became a shared endeavor, a dance of soapy water and conversation.

As the last dish found its place on the drying rack, Johnny wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. "So, what's the plan now?" he inquired, genuine curiosity etched on his face.

My gaze wandered toward the white box that held the scarlet bat suit, a silent promise of a new chapter. I walked over to the box, Johnny followed, standing beside me as I opened the box. The scarlet bat suit lay there, an emblem of transformation and choice. "Are you planning to debut your new look?" Johnny asked, his eyes reflecting both excitement and curiosity.

"I'm not sure," I admitted, uncertainty tugging at the edges of my thoughts. "I don't even know what name to go by, and I don't have any of my tech."

Johnny leaned against the table, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, your new superhero name is right there," he pointed at the scarlet bat emblem. "Scarlet Bat. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

I pondered the suggestion, the simplicity of the name resonating with the scarlet hue that adorned the suit. "Scarlet Bat," I mused, testing the words on my tongue.

"And as for the tech," Johnny continued, "why not call Alfred? I'm sure he'd be more than happy to deliver whatever you need. He's practically your superhero tech support."

A smile crept across my face at the idea. "You might be onto something, Johnny. Scarlet Bat it is, then. And I'll give Alfred a call to see if he's up for some late-night tech delivery."

With a newfound sense of purpose and a touch of excitement, I reached for my phone, ready to make the call that would bridge the gap between the shadows of Gotham and the scarlet-hued identity waiting to emerge.

Chapter Text

Gotham City July 5th, 21:00 EDT

A subtle hum echoed through the quiet night as I awaited Alfred's delivery, my anticipation growing with each passing moment and soon, Alfred emerged with a discreet bag containing an array of gear.

"Miss Angelica," Alfred greeted with his customary poise. "I've brought some essentials for your endeavors. Comms for you and Mr. Johnny, as I thought his assistance might prove valuable. And, of course, a little upgrade for your transportation."

As he spoke, Alfred revealed another addition to the night—an overhauled motorcycle, once a sleek shadow in the Gotham streets, now reborn with a scarlet red finish. The transformation was striking, a visual embodiment of the new identity I was embracing.

"Alfred, this is incredible," I marveled at the scarlet-hued motorcycle. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure, Miss Angelica," Alfred replied with a nod. "I thought the scarlet theme would suit your evolving persona. Now, if there's anything else you require, do not hesitate to ask."

As I gazed at the array of gear Alfred had brought, a mixture of gratitude and curiosity welled up within me. His unwavering support, even after my decision to temporarily leave Wayne Manor. 

I decided to voice the question that lingered in my mind, "Alfred, I appreciate all of this, but I need to know why you're helping me, especially after what happened."

Alfred's gaze, a steady and reassuring presence, met mine. "Miss Angelica, it is my duty to support the endeavors of the Wayne family. While the circumstances surrounding your departure may be complex, my loyalty remains unwavering."

A subtle smile tugged at the corners of Alfred's lips. "Family extends beyond blood, Miss Angelica. Your journey is your own, and my role is to offer guidance and aid where I can. The scarlet bat suit and the enhancements to your motorcycle are not just tools; they're symbols of adaptation and evolution. Always remember, you are not alone."

Exiting the dimly lit alley, the weight of the gear Alfred had provided draped over my shoulders, I made my way back to Johnny's apartment. The city's nocturnal rhythm surrounded me, a familiar heartbeat that echoed the changes unfolding within.

As I entered Johnny's apartment, he looked up from the couch, a question lingering in his eyes. The scarlet-hued motorcycle helmet in my hand and the bag of gear drew his attention. "What's all this?" he inquired.

"Alfred's delivery," I replied, a mix of excitement and gratitude in my voice. Spreading the gear on the table, I showcased the comms, gadgets, Johnny's eyes widened with genuine fascination as he inspected each item.

"Wow, this is next-level stuff. Alfred really pulled out all the stops," Johnny remarked, genuine awe in his voice.

"He did," I agreed, a smile playing on my lips. "And speaking of which, I was wondering if you'd be up for something."

Johnny arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What's on your mind?"

With a deep breath, I made my request. "I need a 'guy in the chair,' someone to provide support and guidance while I'm out there. Someone I can trust."

Johnny's expression shifted from curiosity to a thoughtful contemplation. "You mean, like, tech support?"

"Exactly," I affirmed. "You've always been good with gadgets, and I trust you. Plus, it gets lonely out there, and having a connection back here would make a world of difference."

A genuine smile broke across Johnny's face. "You know what? I'm in. Scarlet Bat, consider me your 'guy in the chair." 

I chuckled, realizing the name had already taken root. "So, what do you say we test this gear out? Gotham awaits, and Scarlet Bat is ready to spread her wings."

Gotham City July 5th, 22:00 EDT

The night air enveloped me as I leaped from one Gotham rooftop to another, the rhythmic thud of my boots echoing in the urban silence. 

A distant scream pierced the stillness, a cry for help that stirred the shadows of Gotham. Without hesitation, I changed my course, navigating the labyrinthine cityscape toward the source of distress. The adrenaline surged within me, a palpable anticipation of the first act in my scarlet-hued journey.

As I descended into the alley, the scene unfolded before me—a woman, cornered by three menacing figures intent on harm. The dim glow of the flickering streetlamp cast elongated shadows, framing the imminent danger.

With a swift, purposeful motion, I activated the comm link in my suit, connecting to Johnny. "I've got a situation," I whispered, my voice a controlled urgency.

Johnny's voice echoed in my earpiece, calm and steady. "I'm with you, Scarlet Bat. What's the plan?"

My eyes locked onto the assailants, their attention fixated on their frightened prey. Engulfed in the crimson glow of my suit, I descended from the shadows, landing with an ominous presence.

"Hey, fellas," I called out, my tone laced with a confident defiance that betrayed no fear. The thugs turned toward me, their expressions shifting from aggression to bewilderment.

Before they could react, I unleashed a swift kick, incapacitating the closest assailant. The silver glint of my suit reflected the dim light as I danced through the alley, a crimson blur weaving between punches and kicks.

The second thug lunged at me, but a calculated flip sent him crashing into a pile of trash cans. As he crumpled to the ground, I redirected my focus to the third, who had a grip on the woman's purse.

In a burst of speed, I closed the distance, disarming him with a precise strike. The stolen purse fell to the ground, its contents spilled like a cascade of victory.

With the assailants incapacitated, I turned to the woman, her eyes wide with a mixture of gratitude and awe. The crimson emblem on my chest reflected in her eyes as I extended a hand. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her voice shaky but relieved. "Thank you. Who... who are you?"

A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips. "Call me Scarlet Bat. Gotham's newest guardian."

With a swift leap, I returned to the rooftops, leaving the alley behind. The distant wail of sirens signaled the arrival of law enforcement, a reminder that my scarlet-hued presence had made its mark on the city.

Chapter Text

Gotham City 10th July, 9:00 EDT 

The inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped the air, creating a comforting backdrop to the small dining table where Johnny and I sat, sharing a simple breakfast. The soft morning light painted a warm glow on our faces, and beyond the window, the city began to awaken, the urban landscape gradually coming to life with the hustle and bustle of its inhabitants.

In that serene moment, gratitude washed over me like a gentle wave. The peaceful start to the day felt like a precious gift, a moment of calm before the potential whirlwind of change that lay ahead. Excitement fluttered in my chest as I contemplated the possibilities that awaited, like undiscovered chapters in a book yet to be written.

As we enjoyed our meal, a subtle vibration from my phone disrupted the tranquil atmosphere. Glancing at the screen, I discovered a message from Clark Kent – a figure both renowned reporter and superhero. My heart quickened as I absorbed the contents of his message.

"There's an opening for a junior reporter at the Daily Planet," I exclaimed, my eyes widening in surprise. "But I need to get there today if I want to be considered for the job."

Johnny looked up from his plate, a mixture of surprise and encouragement reflecting in his expression. "Today? That's quite short notice. Are you up for it?"

A surge of determination replaced any lingering doubts within me. "I have to be. Opportunities like this don't come often, and if I want a chance, I need to seize it. Clark believes in me, and I can't let this slip away."

Johnny nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the moment. "I'm with you, Angelica. If you need anything, just let me know."

With a quick nod of appreciation, I finished my breakfast, my mind already racing with thoughts of the journey ahead. Gathering my essentials, the suitcase that had served a different purpose the previous night now took on new significance. Outside, the city seemed to hum with urgency, mirroring the excitement and determination in my eyes. The promise of change and a fresh start loomed on the horizon, and with Johnny's support, I stepped into the bustling cityscape, ready to embrace the opportunities that awaited at the Daily Planet.

Metropolis 10th July, 13:00 EDT 

The air in the Daily Planet's reception area was charged with anticipation as I sat, waiting for my interview with Perry White, the formidable Editor-in-Chief. The polished floors seemed to echo the hurried footsteps of journalists moving about, creating a symphony of activity in the heart of the bustling newsroom.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard my name called. "Angelica Wayne," the receptionist announced, and I rose from my seat with a mix of nervousness and determination. As I walked towards Perry White's office, the walls seemed to carry the weight of journalistic history, inspiring a profound sense of reverence.

Entering his office, I found Perry White behind a desk cluttered with papers and a palpable air of authority. His piercing gaze bore into mine as I took a seat, awaiting the questions that would determine my fate.

"Angelica Wayne," he began, his voice gruff but undeniably authoritative. "You already have a bachelor's in journalism at 18. How did you manage that?"

His question sliced through the air, and I could sense the curiosity laced with skepticism. I straightened in my chair, ready to address the unconventional path that led me here. "I was homeschooled my whole life. By the time I was 13, I had surpassed high school education, and Gotham University recognized my potential, allowing me to attend early."

Perry leaned back, studying me with a discerning eye. "Homeschooled, huh? Gotham University saw potential in you at 13? That's impressive. Tell me, why journalism?"

A surge of passion fueled my response. "I've always been drawn to storytelling, to uncovering the truth and sharing it with the world. Journalism is a way to make a meaningful impact, to give a voice to the stories that need to be heard."

Perry nodded, seeming to appreciate the sincerity in my words. "What makes you think you're ready for the Daily Planet?"

I met his gaze without hesitation. "I've faced challenges and adversaries in my life that have taught me resilience and the importance of seeking the truth. I believe my unique perspective and dedication to honest reporting make me ready for the fast-paced environment of the Daily Planet."

Perry's stern expression softened slightly. "You're quite young, Angelica, but you seem promising. What stories do you want to cover?"

With a spark in my eyes, I outlined the stories that ignited my passion – stories of societal change, human resilience, and the extraordinary feats of individuals making a difference.

After a moment of contemplation, Perry leaned forward. "You know what, Angelica? You've got potential. I'm offering you the job right here, right now."

A rush of excitement and gratitude flooded through me. "Thank you, Mr. White. I won't let you down."

Leaving Perry White's office with the job secured at the Daily Planet felt like a triumph, a victory that echoed in my steps as I navigated the bustling newsroom. As I glanced around, absorbing the energy of the place, my eyes fell upon Clark Kent, a familiar figure amidst the whirlwind of reporters and editors.

Excitement bubbled within me, and I couldn't help but rush towards him. "Clark!" I exclaimed as I reached him, unable to contain the news. "I got the job at the Daily Planet! I start soon!"

A genuine smile crossed his face. "That's great, Angelica. Congratulations!"

Yet, as the warmth of our exchange lingered, Clark's expression shifted. "I heard about what happened between you and your father. Maybe you should talk to him instead of avoiding the issue."

My joy faltered, replaced by a flash of frustration. "You're one to talk, Clark. I've heard about how you refuse to talk to your clone. Maybe you should get your own issues figured out before advising me on how to manage mine."

With that, I turned away, not waiting for a response. The weight of unresolved conversations and family complexities lingered, and I couldn't bear the irony of Clark's counsel.

"Thank you for telling me about the position." and with that I walked away from Clark. 

 Lois Lane, an experienced journalist whose gaze bore a sharp knowingness approached Clark, a subtle exchange of glances passing between them.

"She is just like her father," Lois remarked, her words carrying a blend of observation and insight.

Clark sighed, his eyes following my retreating figure. "No, kidding" 

Gotham City 10th July, 2:00 EDT 

Returning to Johnny's apartment after the whirlwind at the Daily Planet, I entered with a sense of triumph, eager to share the news. "Johnny, I got the job at the Daily Planet! Can you believe it?" The excitement in my voice clashed with the casual atmosphere of the apartment.

Johnny, lounging on the couch, greeted me with a relaxed grin. "That's great, Angelica. Congrats."

As the euphoria settled, I launched into the details of my encounter with Clark, the tension gradually building. "Clark mentioned my dad and the whole situation. Thinks I should talk to him instead of avoiding it."

Johnny, with a shrug, responded, "He has a point, even if it's a bit hypocritical. But, Angelica, this whole thing with your dad... it seems kind of silly, doesn't it?"

I frowned, feeling the sudden shift in his stance. "What's with the sudden switch-up? You were just on my side like a minute ago."

Johnny sighed, his laid-back demeanor fading into a hint of impatience. "I'm just tired of hearing about how your dad lied to you about something stupid. Can't you just move on already?"

The frustration in his words hit me, and I shot back, "It's not just about that, Johnny. It's about the fact that he still doesn't trust me enough to tell me something as little as where the official headquarters are. It's like he still sees me as just a member of the League of Shadows, just like my mother."

The room hung with the weight of our argument, the casual vibe shattered. I paced, the tension building. "Maybe I would talk to him if he'd ever treat me like an adult. But no, it's always secrets and lies."

Johnny's expression hardened. "You're blowing this out of proportion, Angelica. I just want you to move on."

With a frustrated exhale, I declared, "Fine. I'm going to the gym," and stormed out, leaving the unresolved tension lingering in the air. The city outside seemed to hum with its own rhythm, indifferent to the clash of emotions within those four walls.

The gym was my sanctuary, a place where I could release the pent-up frustration and confusion swirling within me. The rhythmic thuds of my gloved fists meeting the punching bag echoed through the otherwise silent space, a visceral expression of my inner turmoil.

Anger fueled each strike, the force behind the blows reflecting the intensity of my emotions. "Why can't he just treat me like an adult?" I seethed internally, each punch a testament to the frustration that had built up over years.

As I mercilessly attacked the bag, a conflicting thought gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. "Am I blowing this out of proportion?" The doubt crept in, whispering that perhaps I was overreacting. Yet, with every hit, the conviction lingered that my feelings were valid.

The bag swung back and forth, absorbing the impact of my fury. In the midst of the chaos, a harsh self-judgment surfaced. "I don't deserve to be judged as anything other than a filthy shadow," I thought bitterly. The echoes of my mother's legacy, the League of Shadows, clung to me like a relentless specter, staining my identity. 

The rhythmic thuds against the punching bag served as a backdrop, but in an instant, the present dissolved, and I found myself seven years old again – a young girl named Nadia, caught in the tendrils of a vivid flashback.

The dojo, dimly lit, echoed with the sounds of training. I stood in the center, a tiny figure in the sea of disciplined warriors. My grandfather, a stoic figure, observed from the shadows, his eyes keen with expectation.

"Sparring match, Nadia. Show us what you've learned," the instructor's command pierced the air, setting the stage for a challenge that would shape my perception of strength and identity.

A full-grown man stepped forward, his imposing figure contrasting sharply with my small frame. My training, rigorous and unyielding, had led me to this moment. I assumed a fighting stance, the focus in my eyes belying my tender age.

The sparring began, and to my surprise, I moved with a fluidity that transcended my years. With each swift motion, I countered his attacks, my movements a dance of precision and technique. I felt the rush of power, the taste of triumph.

But then, something shifted. The man lay defeated on the floor, yet an inexplicable force compelled me to continue. I delivered blows with an intensity that defied reason, the satisfaction of victory transforming into a relentless pursuit. The onlookers exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the anomaly in my unyielding assault.

"Nadia, that's enough!" a voice cut through the haze. It was my mother, her features a blend of concern and urgency. She rushed forward, gently pulling me away from the bewildered man on the mat.

"Why didn't you stop?" she asked, her eyes searching mine for an answer. But I couldn't comprehend my own actions; the compulsion to keep going lingered like a phantom.

My grandfather, a silent observer, approached with a small smile. "She has a fire within her," he remarked, his words carrying a weight of recognition.

As my mother carried me away from the bewildering spectacle, the dojo faded, and the familiar sounds of the gym returned. 

Chapter Text

Metropolis 14th July, 8:00 EDT 

The bustling newsroom of the Daily Planet welcomed me on my first day, a mix of excitement and nervousness churning within. The echo of my blown-up argument with Johnny lingered, a weight I carried as I navigated the new environment. We ended up not talking to each other for the whole weekend which was hard since we do live in a one-bedroom apartment. 

Perry White, the gruff but undeniably authoritative Editor-in-Chief, gathered the team for a group meeting. "Alright, people, let's see where we are with our projects and assign new ones."

As Perry discussed assignments, I braced myself for my first task. However, it turned out to be a familiar one – getting coffee for everyone. My eagerness to dive into meaningful work was met with the reality of starting at the bottom. I bit my lip, suppressing the frustration that threatened to resurface.

After distributing the coffee, I found myself standing with Clark Kent, the seasoned reporter, by the window overlooking the city. "Hey, about earlier, I wanted to apologize if I overstepped," Clark began, genuine concern in his voice.

I sighed, realizing I needed to address the tension. "No, Clark, it's okay. I was just going through a lot in the moment. It's not your fault."

He nodded, offering a supportive smile. "If you ever need anything, I'm here for you."

Shifting the subject, I couldn't help but ask, "So, when do I get to actually write instead of being everyone's errand girl?"

Clark chuckled, a warmth in his eyes. "We all start out this way, Angelica. Eventually, you won't be the rookie. Just give it time."

As Clark and I wrapped up our conversation, a seasoned reporter called me over, their tone implying an additional task. "Angelica, we need those files. Go grab them, will you?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes and let out an audible sigh. The contrast between my expectations and the reality of being the go-to person for errands weighed on me. Clark, witnessing the exchange, laughed again.

"Welcome to the Daily Planet, Angelica," he quipped with a knowing smile. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on either of us. As I navigated the newsroom to fetch the files, I couldn't suppress a wry grin.

Metropolis 14th July, 12:00 EDT

As I settled into my new routine at the Daily Planet, a surprise invitation brightened my day. Clark and Lois, the dynamic duo of journalism, extended an invitation to join them for lunch. Eager for a break from the bustling newsroom, I gladly accepted.

The trio found a cozy spot in a nearby diner, and as we perused the menu, Lois couldn't resist delving into Gotham's latest hero, the enigmatic "Scarlet Bat."

"So, Angelica, anything interesting happening in Gotham lately? Heard they've got a new hero in town," Lois inquired, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

I couldn't help but smile, realizing that the astute reporters had likely connected the dots. "Oh, you know Gotham. Always something going on," I replied, playing along.

Clark joined the conversation, his curiosity evident. "How has going solo been for you?"

I leaned back, a sense of camaraderie settling in. "I'm managing. Gotham needs all the heroes it can get," I said with a nod.

Lois raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on her face. "Any insights you want to share? Or are you keeping the Scarlet Bat's secrets locked up tight?"

I chuckled, appreciating their playful approach. "Well, a little mystery keeps things interesting, don't you think?"

Metropolis 14th July, 18:00 EDT 

The bustling day at the Daily Planet came to a close, and I bid farewell to Clark and Lois, expressing gratitude for their company and insights. The newsroom, now quieter, held the residual energy of the day's hustle.

As I stepped out into the fading daylight, the city lights coming to life, I couldn't shake the anticipation of heading home. The car ride home provided a solitary space for reflection, and my thoughts revolved around the unresolved tension with Johnny.

The city hummed with its usual rhythm, a backdrop to the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. The drive stretched on, each passing moment amplifying the need to mend the strained connection with my friend. The weight of the unspoken apology lingered, and I found myself rehearsing the words I would use.

The familiar sights of Gotham passed by the cityscape a testament to the myriad of stories concealed within its towering structures. The Daily Planet logo on my press pass gleamed in the dim interior of the car, a symbol of the new journey I had embarked upon.

As the car pulled up to Johnny's apartment building, a mix of nerves and determination surged through me. Stepping out into the cool night air, I approached the door, my mind racing with thoughts of how to bridge the gap that had opened between us. 

I stepped into Johnny's apartment, the air thick with the remnants of our earlier argument. Johnny was in the kitchen, his attention focused on something on the stove. He didn't acknowledge my presence, and the silence between us hung heavy in the air.

Summoning a deep breath, I mustered the courage to break the tension. "Johnny, I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blown up like that earlier. It wasn't fair to you."

He continued stirring whatever was in the pot, the simmering sounds emphasizing the awkwardness of the moment. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned around, his gaze meeting mine.

"Yeah, well, maybe I shouldn't have pushed your buttons either," Johnny admitted with a shrug. "Sorry, too."

Relief washed over me as the mutual apologies diffused the lingering tension. A hint of a smile played on Johnny's lips, and he joked, "Remember when we used to fight like this all the time? That's probably why we broke up the first time."

I chuckled, the familiarity of our banter offering a sense of comfort. "Yeah, we did have our fair share of arguments."

The atmosphere shifted, and for the first time in a while, things felt content for me. "Need any help with dinner?" I offered, wanting to contribute to the newfound ease.

Johnny grinned, appreciating the gesture. "Sure, why not. Grab that cutting board; we're making pasta."

As we worked together in the kitchen, the sounds of chopping vegetables and the sizzling of whatever was cooking on the stove filled the space. The shared task became a bridge, reconnecting us after the earlier discord. Amidst the preparation of dinner, I found a moment of solace. 

Gotham City 14th July, 20:00 EDT

Johnny and I were just chilling on the couch, each absorbed in our own activities. The atmosphere was relaxed, a welcome change from the tensions of the day. Johnny, however, seemed to be growing restless.

"I'm so bored. We should play a game or something," he complained, shifting on the couch.

I looked up from my book, considering the idea. "Sure, why not? What game?"

Johnny pondered for a moment before a mischievous grin crossed his face. "How about 'Kiss, Marry, Kill'?"

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued but unsure. "Okay, I guess. You go first."

Johnny leaned back, thinking of his choices. "Alright, Angelica, your options are Green Arrow, Superman, and Martian Manhunter."

I made a face of mild disgust. "Ugh, they're like my uncles, Johnny. This is gross."

Undeterred, Johnny took the challenge upon himself. "Fine, I'll go. Marry Green Arrow 'cause he's got money, kiss Martian Manhunter, and kill Superman."

I couldn't help but be shocked by his choices. "Wait, you'd kiss Martian Manhunter? Out of all three?"

Johnny shrugged, a nonchalant expression on his face. "I like what I like."

We both burst into laughter at the absurdity of the game and Johnny's unexpected choices.

The playful atmosphere on the couch shifted abruptly as the police radio crackled to life, its urgent message cutting through our banter. "Bank robbery in progress, multiple hostages."

Johnny and I exchanged a swift glance, the seriousness of the situation instantly sobering our mood. Without a word, I sprang into action, heading towards the bedroom to change into my Scarlet Bat attire.

"Johnny, get on the computer. We need to move fast," I called out, my voice carrying a sense of urgency.

Johnny swiftly moved towards his computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he accessed the relevant information. "I've got the location. It's downtown, Angelica. Let's go."

I changed quickly, the familiar weight of the suit bringing a surge of determination. As I emerged from the bedroom, Johnny handed me a small earpiece, our link to coordinate our movements.

"Keep me updated on the situation, Johnny," I instructed, securing the earpiece in place.

He nodded; his gaze focused on the computer screen. "I'll guide you. Be careful, Angelica."

With a shared nod, I made my way to the window, ready to leap into action. The city outside buzzed with its usual rhythm, unaware of the imminent danger unfolding.

Arriving at the scene of the bank robbery, I swiftly made my way to Commissioner Gordon, the familiar figure overseeing the chaos. As I approached, his gruff voice greeted me, "You Bats don't stop multiplying."

I offered a determined nod. "Commissioner Gordon, I need to know what's going on. How can I help?"

He scrutinized me, skepticism evident in his expression. "I'm not trusting some rookie in a new batsuit to take care of this. Where's Batman when you need him?"

I took a deep breath, realizing I needed to earn his trust. "Commissioner, I used to be Batgirl. Batman and I had some disagreements, but I know what I'm doing." 

Gordon's stern gaze seemed to ease slightly at the mention of Batgirl. Still, he wasn't fully convinced. "I can't just let you go in there alone."

"I understand, but Batman hasn't shown up yet, and time is of the essence. Let me scope out the situation, and I'll make sure no one gets hurt," I pleaded, urgency in my voice.

After a tense moment, Gordon reluctantly nodded. "Alright, but be careful. I don't want to be explaining to Batman why I let his former sidekick get herself killed."

With a grateful nod, I slipped away, heading towards the bank. The night air carried the tension of the situation, and as I approached the entrance, I activated the stealth mode on my suit.

Inside, the scene unfolded with masked assailants and terrified hostages. My training kicked in as I silently moved through the shadows, gathering information on their positions and tactics.

As I stealthily moved through the shadows inside the bank, my focus on assessing the situation, Batman materialized beside me without a sound. The sudden appearance of the iconic cape and cowl brought a surge of mixed emotions.

"This is mine to handle, Batman. Go find some other crime to brood over," I declared, my voice firm.

Batman turned to face me, his stoic demeanor unwavering. "I'm in charge of the whole city. Any case of yours is mine by default. And remember, you wouldn't be in that uniform if it wasn't for me."

I sighed, the weight of our complicated history settling over the situation. "Fine, let's just work together and get this done."

Batman nodded in agreement, and together we focused on pinpointing the number of hostages and criminals. The bank robbers, however, proved to be anything but ordinary. High-tech weapons and advanced gear indicated a level of sophistication beyond the usual criminal element.

As we observed, the realization dawned on both of us that this wasn't a run-of-the-mill bank robbery. The exchange of a knowing glance with Batman conveyed that we needed to adapt our approach.

"We need a plan," Batman stated, his analytical mind already at work.

I nodded, acknowledging the necessity for a strategic approach. "Agreed. Let's figure out their weaknesses and exploit them."

With the plan in place, Batman and I coordinated our movements, systematically taking down the high-tech robbers and ensuring the safety of the hostages. The rhythmic dance of combat echoed in the bank as we moved with practiced precision, a seamless collaboration between Scarlet Bat and the Dark Knight.

As the last of the criminals fell, subdued by the joint efforts of Batman and Scarlet Bat, we turned our attention to the aftermath. Before the police could take over, we decided to interrogate one of the captured robbers. The masked assailant remained silent, stubbornly refusing to divulge any information.

Frustration bubbled within me, and without thinking, I grabbed the robber, demanding answers. "Talk! How did you get these weapons?"

A sly comment about my punches being like a girl met my ears, and in that moment, my restraint snapped. I unleashed a series of punches, driven by anger and determination. The robber taunted me further, provoking a relentless onslaught.

Batman, witnessing the escalation, intervened, pulling me away. "That's not how we run things, Scarlet Bat. I trained you better than that."

I shot him a defiant glance. "He wasn't going to talk, and he deserved it."

The robber, now barely able to speak, managed to utter the name "the light" before passing out. Batman turned his attention to me, his expression a mix of disappointment and concern.

"That doesn't justify losing control," Batman admonished.

I met his gaze, unyielding. "Sometimes, they need to understand the consequences. He had it coming."

Batman sighed, a silent acknowledgment of the differing perspectives. As the police arrived to take control of the situation, I left the scene, leaving Batman to manage the aftermath. 

Gotham City 15th July, 01:26 EDT 

The dim light of Johnny's apartment provided a muted backdrop as I stumbled through the door, still caught in the undertow of the night's chaotic events. The ritual of shedding my Scarlet Bat uniform marked the transition from vigilante to semblance of normalcy, but tonight, the weight clung to me like a heavy cloak. I began the process of undressing when Johnny, emerging from his bedroom, noticed the blood on my hands.

His eyes narrowed in concern as he questioned, "Angelica, are you alright?" He moved closer, examining my hands with furrowed brows.

I hadn't even registered the blood, the adrenaline-fueled haze still lingering. I pulled my hands away dismissively. "Relax, Johnny. It's not mine."

Turning away, I headed towards the bathroom, the harsh light revealing the traces of the night on my face. The cool water felt like a stark contrast to the warmth of the night's endeavors as I scrubbed away the blood. Watching it mix with the water and disappear down the drain, an unsettling thought lingered—the echoes of my grandfather's desire for me to be a weapon resurfaced.

Exiting the bathroom, Johnny's concerned gaze met mine again. "Do you need to talk about anything?" he asked, genuine worry lacing his voice.

I wasn't in the mood for discussions or reflections. Pushing him away, I brushed off his concern, offering a forced smile. "I'm fine, Johnny. Just tired."

Heading toward the pull-out bed, exhaustion weighed heavily on me. Collapsing onto the mattress, I sought solace in the oblivion of sleep. The events of the night had left me grappling with the blurred lines between hero and weapon, and in that moment, all I wanted was respite from the complexities that clung to me like shadows in the night.

As I closed my eyes, the rhythmic sounds of the city outside blended with the distant echoes of my internal struggles. The pull-out bed embraced me, and in the embrace of darkness, sleep finally claimed me, offering a temporary reprieve from the relentless demands of the night and the questions that lingered in the shadows of my consciousness.

Chapter Text

Gotham City 15th July, 03:39 EDT

In the eerie realm of dreams, I found myself ensnared in a haunting tapestry of memories that wove the sinister legacy my grandfather had meticulously crafted for me. The dream unfurled as I stood alongside him, a younger version of myself, gazing over a courtyard where shadows morphed into lethal figures—the merciless assassins of the League of Shadows.

"Nadia," my grandfather's voice reverberated through the dream, dripping with the weight of insurmountable expectations. "One day, these shadows will be yours. You will become the Demons Heart. Power is not a luxury but a necessity. Simple-minded people need to be controlled; they would ruin the planet if left unchecked."

As the dream morphed into another cruel chapter, I found myself a little older, facing a grisly task. Before me, a helpless man awaiting his fate. My grandfather's harsh commands echoed, "Finish him, Nadia. If you can't even handle this, how are you supposed to honor your family in the future?"

The air thickened with tension, my hands quivering under the weight of his relentless expectations. The pressure intensified, his frustration transforming into an unyielding tirade. Desperation clawed at me as I hesitated, the gravity of his demands pressing down on me. In a moment of merciless authority, my grandfather approached, seizing control and putting an end to their life. 

In the abrupt rupture from the haunting dreamscape, I shot up from the bed with a guttural scream escaping my lips. The echoes of my distress seemed to bounce off the walls, reverberating through the silence of the night. It took mere moments for Johnny to burst out of the bedroom, concern etched across his face.

"Angelica, are you okay?" Johnny's voice was urgent as he rushed to my side. The remnants of the dream clung to me like a suffocating shroud, and as he reached out to comfort me, I couldn't hold back the flood of tears that overwhelmed me.

"I couldn't do it," I sobbed, my voice a desperate plea. His comforting presence enveloped me, and he gently rocked me back and forth, my head nestled into the refuge of his chest. The warmth of his embrace was a lifeline, grounding me in the present as I grappled with the residual horrors of the dream.

Amidst the silent sobs, Johnny urged me to look at him, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "Angelica, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil within.

I couldn't find words to articulate the tangled web of emotions that clung to me. All I could manage was a choked repetition of my fears, "I couldn't do it, I couldn't do it."

Johnny, unwavering in his support, laid down with me, continuing to offer comfort until the weight of the nightmares began to wane. The city outside, with its distant hum, seemed to echo the turmoil within, yet within Johnny's arms, a fragile peace began to settle. Eventually, exhaustion pulled me back into the realm of sleep, and Johnny remained a steadfast anchor, his presence a beacon of solace in the darkness that clung to my restless dreams.

Gotham City 15th July, 08:00 EDT 

Waking up in Johnny's arms left me momentarily disoriented, the hazy remnants of the night's tumultuous dreams lingering in my mind. As clarity dawned, the vivid memories of Johnny comforting me through the echoes of the past flooded back. Gently extricating myself from his grasp, I took a deep breath, attempting to anchor myself in the present.

Getting ready for work became a deliberate routine, a way to regain control over the tumultuous emotions that had gripped me during the night. Stepping out of the bathroom, I found Johnny already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast just as he always did. The comforting aroma filled the air, a familiar and reassuring presence.

Silently, we sat down at the table, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. It was Johnny who broke the silence, his voice a gentle reassurance. "We don't need to talk about last night unless you want to," he offered, a considerate understanding in his eyes.

I looked at him, gratitude welling up within me. "Thank you," I whispered, the simplicity of the words carrying the weight of unspoken appreciation for his unwavering support. In that moment, the shared understanding between us spoke volumes, and as we navigated the quiet morning, the unspoken bond between Johnny and me became a source of comfort amid the lingering echoes of the night.

Metropolis 15th July, 09:00 EDT

The morning debrief at the Daily Planet was as bustling as ever, with Chief Perry White orchestrating the chaos with his usual gruff efficiency. As he rattled off assignments for the day, I felt a mix of excitement and apprehension when he finally turned to me.

"Angelica, I want you to cover the opening of the new park. You're partnered up with Kyle Rayner on this one," Chief Perry announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I couldn't help but inwardly groan at the prospect of working with someone new, especially someone I knew nothing about. Swallowing my reservations, I made my way over to Clark, hoping he might shed some light on my new partner.

"Hey, Clark," I greeted, flashing him a smile as I approached. "Do you know anything about this Kyle Rayner guy? I'd like to know what I'm getting into before I start working with him."

Clark glanced up from his desk, his expression thoughtful. "Kyle? He's been here for about a year now. He's a quiet worker, but he's effective. Keeps to himself mostly," Clark replied, his words laced with a hint of curiosity.

I couldn't help but scoff at the description. "Great, so I'm stuck with a silent partner. This should be fun," I muttered, already resigning myself to a less-than-ideal working arrangement.

However, Clark's next words caught me off guard. "You might find you have more in common than you think," he remarked cryptically, his gaze meeting mine with a knowing glint.

Raising an eyebrow, I couldn't help but be intrigued by his comment. "Oh, really? And what's that supposed to mean?" I pressed, curiosity piqued despite my initial reservations.

But before Clark could elaborate, Chief Perry's booming voice called for attention once more, drawing our conversation to an abrupt end. With a lingering sense of curiosity, I headed back to my desk, the prospect of working with Kyle Rayner now tinged with a newfound sense of intrigue.

As I approached Kyle's desk, I offered a polite smile, extending my hand in greeting. "Hi, I'm Angelica Wanye," I introduced myself, hoping to break the ice and establish a professional rapport.

However, Kyle's reaction wasn't quite what I expected. His gaze lingered on me for a moment, a curious expression flickering across his features before he finally spoke. "Wanye, huh? What brings a Wayne to the world of journalism?" he asked, his tone tinged with skepticism.

I sighed inwardly, bracing myself for the inevitable questions about my family background. "It's complicated," I replied with a shrug, offering a vague response that barely scratched the surface of the complexities that defined my life.

Sensing his lingering confusion, I added, "But don't worry about it. I take my work seriously, and I'm here to do a job." My tone was firm, leaving no room for further probing into matters best left untouched.

As Kyle and I made our way to the park, the city buzzed around us, a cacophony of sounds and sights that seemed to fade into the background as we fell into conversation. It was a chance to get to know each other beyond the confines of the newsroom, to bridge the gap between our different backgrounds and aspirations.

"So, Angelica, what made you want to become a reporter?" Kyle asked, his tone casual as we walked side by side.

I shrugged, contemplating his question for a moment before responding. "Honestly, I just want to be taken seriously," I admitted, a hint of frustration creeping into my voice. "I'm tired of being associated with my father's legacy. I want to carve out my own path, make my own mark in the world."

Kyle nodded in understanding, a sympathetic expression crossing his features. "I get that. It's tough when people have preconceived notions about who you are based on your family name," he remarked, his tone empathetic.

"Yeah, exactly," I agreed, grateful for his understanding. "What about you? Do you see yourself as a major reporter?"

Kyle let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Not really. Honestly, I'd much rather work for the comic department. But this was the only opening they had at the time," he confessed, a sheepish grin playing at his lips.

I couldn't help but smile at his honesty, appreciating the authenticity in his words. "Well, who knows? Maybe this is just a stepping stone for both of us," I suggested optimistically, a sense of camaraderie forming between us.

Metropolis Park 15th July, 12:00 EDT

The park was alive with anticipation as the mayor stepped up to the podium, his voice carrying over the crowd as he spoke of the significance of the new addition to Metropolis. Kyle and I listened intently, our attention drawn to the stage where the mayor stood, his words painting a picture of unity and community.

"This park will bring people from all walks of life together, providing a common area for relaxation and recreation," the mayor declared, his speech resonating with the crowd.

As the applause died down, a figure stepped onto the stage, drawing murmurs of recognition from the crowd. It was Lex Luthor, a man whose name was synonymous with power and influence in Metropolis.

Luthor's speech was filled with platitudes about giving back to the community, his words carefully crafted to garner favor and applause. Despite the outward facade of generosity, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of my stomach. Knowing the true nature of Luthor's machinations, I found myself questioning his motives for contributing to the park's construction.

Pushing aside my personal feelings towards Luthor, I focused on the task at hand, preparing to interview the mayor for the Daily Planet while Kyle captured images of the park's grand opening.

After my interview with the mayor, I approached Luthor, steeling myself for the encounter. "Mr. Luthor, may I have a moment of your time for an interview?" I asked, my voice steady despite the roiling emotions beneath the surface.

Luthor regarded me with a curious gaze, his sharp eyes taking in my appearance. "Of course, Miss...?" he trailed off, prompting me to provide my name.

"Angelica Wayne," I replied, my tone firm as I met his gaze head-on.

Recognition flickered in Luthor's eyes, and I braced myself for his reaction. "Wayne, you say?" he mused, a hint of surprise coloring his voice. "I didn't expect to find someone from your family working at a place like the Daily Planet."

His words stung, a reminder of the prejudices that often accompanied my family name. "And what's that supposed to mean?" I countered, my voice tinged with irritation.

Luthor raised a placating hand, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Forgive me if I misspoke. I simply meant to admire your dedication to a career that's... less conventional for someone of your background," he explained, his tone smooth and calculated.

I bristled at his condescending tone, but before I could respond, he surprised me by extending a business card towards me. "I like you, Angelica. I think we could have some interesting conversations," he remarked, his gaze unwavering.

In a daze, I accepted the card, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events. As I rejoined Kyle, who was diligently capturing images of the park, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of my mind. Despite Luthor's seemingly genuine interest, I couldn't help but wonder what ulterior motives might lie beneath his charming facade.

Metropolis 15th July, 15:00 EDT

As Kyle and I sat down to piece together our news story, the atmosphere was charged with a sense of purpose and determination. We exchanged ideas and brainstormed angles, each of us bringing our unique perspectives to the table.

However, I couldn't seem to focus completely on the task at hand. The business card Luthor had given me kept catching my eye, its presence a constant reminder of our encounter earlier. I found myself absentmindedly flipping it between my fingers, the soft rustle of the card echoing in the otherwise quiet room.

Kyle glanced up from his notes, a look of mild irritation crossing his features as the noise of the card distracted him. "Angelica, what's with the card? It's making quite a racket," he remarked, his tone tinged with annoyance.

I paused, realizing that I had been unconsciously fidgeting with the card. "Sorry, Kyle," I apologized, setting the card down on the table. "It's just... I can't stop thinking about that encounter with Luthor earlier."

Kyle raised an eyebrow, curiosity evident in his expression. "What happened? Did he say something to upset you?" he inquired, his concern genuine.

I shook my head, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that still lingered from my interaction with Luthor. "It's hard to explain. He was... surprisingly cordial, but there was something about the whole exchange that just didn't sit right with me," I explained, my voice trailing off as I struggled to articulate my feelings.

Kyle nodded in understanding, his gaze thoughtful as he processed my words. "Well, regardless of what Luthor said or did, we've got a job to do. Let's focus on getting this story done," he suggested, his tone firm but supportive.

I nodded in agreement, grateful for Kyle's steady presence. With renewed determination, we returned our attention to the task at hand, the click of keyboards and the scratch of pens filling the room as we worked together to craft our news story. Despite the lingering uncertainty surrounding my encounter with Luthor, I was grateful to have Kyle by my side as we navigated the challenges of our new assignment. 

Chapter Text

Gotham City 21st July, 22:00 EDT

As I raced across the rooftops of Gotham, the city's dark alleys and towering skyscrapers passing in a blur beneath me, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled with unease, and I knew instinctively that I was not alone.

Sure enough, as I reached a secluded rooftop, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, his presence imposing and unmistakable. Batman.

I stopped in my tracks, my heart pounding in my chest as I faced the legendary Dark Knight. "Batman," I greeted, my voice steady despite the unease that gripped me.

He nodded in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "Scarlet Bat," he replied, his voice deep and authoritative.

"Why are you following me?" I demanded, my frustration simmering beneath the surface. I had little patience for games, especially when it came to Batman's cryptic ways.

Batman's gaze held mine for a moment before he spoke, his words measured and deliberate. "You've been making a name for yourself in Gotham and your recent story for the Daily Planet was commendable," he stated.

I scoffed, the annoyance bubbling up inside me. "That's not an answer," I retorted, cutting him off. "Why are you really here?"

Batman regarded me silently for a moment before he spoke again, his tone grave. "Robin, Kid Flash, Aqualad, and others have formed their own covert team. They need someone who can help train them and keep an eye on them," he explained.

My irritation faded as I absorbed his words, a flicker of surprise crossing my features. Robin, the boy wonder who had once been like a brother to me, had started his own team. The thought tugged at something deep within me, stirring memories of our past adventures together.

"And you think I'm the one for the job?" I asked, my voice softer now, tinged with uncertainty.

Batman nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Robin misses having you around. I thought this would be a good opportunity for you to join them," he replied.

I considered his words carefully, the weight of his offer sinking in. It was a chance to reconnect with Robin, to become a part of something greater than myself. But it also meant stepping back into a world I had to follow his every word.

"I'll think about it," I said finally, my voice tinged with resolve.

With a nod, Batman turned to leave, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared. I watched him go, my mind swirling with thoughts and emotions. The decision lay before me, a path fraught with uncertainty and possibility. But for now, all I could do was consider my options and wait for the darkness to reveal its secrets.

Gotham City 22nd July, 1:00 EDT

After slipping through the window into Johnny's living room, I found him still awake, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he greeted me. "Hey, how was the night?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

I let out a weary sigh, sinking into the nearest chair as I recounted the night's events. "It was strangely quiet," I began, my mind still processing the encounter with Batman. "But what's even weirder is that my father approached me. He asked if I would be interested in training a new covert team that my brother is on."

Johnny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wow, that's... unexpected," he remarked, his gaze thoughtful. "What are you going to do?"

I hesitated, my mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "I'm not sure," I admitted, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. "I've never trained anyone before, and between being Scarlet Bat and working for the Daily Planet, I'm already stretched pretty thin."

But even as I spoke the words, a pang of guilt tugged at my heart. I had been so consumed by my feud with my father that I had inadvertently pushed aside my bond with Robin, a friend and ally who had always been there for me.

As Johnny watched me, his expression filled with understanding, I made a silent vow to myself. I couldn't let my stubbornness and pride blind me to the connections that truly mattered in my life.

"I'll sleep on it," I said finally, my voice tinged with determination. "I'll make up my mind in the morning."

With that decision made, I bid Johnny goodnight and retreated to the comfort of my makeshift bed, the weight of the night's revelations swirling in my mind as I drifted off into a restless sleep.

Metropolis 22nd July, 09:00 EDT

The bustling atmosphere of the Daily Planet newsroom surrounded me as I listened to Perry White's daily debrief. The clatter of keyboards, ringing phones, and the hum of conversations filled the air, creating a symphony of activity.

In the midst of the organized chaos, Clark approached me, his expression curious. "Any decision yet?" he inquired, his tone light but genuine.

I raised an eyebrow, not surprised that Clark was already aware of the situation. "Not you too," I replied, a playful hint in my voice.

Clark chuckled, adopting a slightly defensive stance. "Hey, it's a big decision. Can you blame me for asking?"

Before I could respond, Perry White's booming voice interrupted the exchange. "Kent! Wayne! Anything you want to share with the rest of us, or can we get on with the debrief?"

Clark apologized with a sheepish grin, and Perry sighed, signaling for the debrief to continue. As the assignments were handed out, I found myself once again paired with Kyle, the quiet yet effective reporter who seemed to be becoming a regular partner.

This time, our task was to cover a heartwarming story of a young man who had saved an older lady from being mugged. As we prepared to head out, Clark caught my attention once more. "The league needs an answer by the end of the day," he informed me, his expression carrying a hint of urgency.

I nodded, acknowledging the deadline, and with that, Kyle and I embarked on our assignment, navigating the bustling streets of Metropolis in pursuit of a story that would, in its own way, shape the narrative of my life.

The subway station was a hub of activity as Kyle and I navigated our way through the bustling crowd, heading towards the platform that would take us to our next assignment. The hum of conversations and the screech of arriving trains surrounded us, creating a dynamic backdrop for our journey.

As we descended the stairs to the platform, Kyle's curiosity got the better of him, and he ventured into the territory of the conversation that Clark and I had shared earlier. "So, what were you and Clark talking about?" he inquired, his tone casual but genuinely curious.

I shot him a sidelong glance, a playful smirk on my lips. "Just office gossip, nothing worth worrying about," I replied, deflecting the topic with practiced ease. Changing the subject, I added, "Speaking of interesting things, got any new drawings to show me?"

A smile lit up Kyle's face as he reached into his bag, producing a well-worn sketchbook. Flipping it open, he began to share his latest creations, each stroke of his pencil bringing scenes and characters to life on the pages.

I marveled at the intricacy of his drawings, genuine admiration coloring my expression. "Kyle, these are impressive. You should really do something with them," I encouraged, recognizing the talent that seemed to go unnoticed.

A hint of frustration flickered in Kyle's eyes as he sighed. "I've tried, but people just don't seem to care about my work," he admitted, his tone tinged with disappointment.

I frowned at the unfairness of it all. "That's just stupid," I retorted, dismissing the notion that his art wasn't valued. "You've got real talent. Maybe you just need to find the right audience."

Our conversation lingered as the train pulled into the station, its doors sliding open to welcome us. Kyle and I found a seat, continuing to discuss art, dreams, and the peculiarities of the world we navigated together. The rhythmic clatter of the train on the tracks accompanied our journey, carrying us towards the heartwarming story waiting to be uncovered.

Metropolis 22nd July, 9:57 EDT

The old lady's house exuded a sense of warmth and comfort as Kyle and I stepped onto the porch, ready to uncover the heartwarming story that awaited us. The door creaked open, revealing a kind-faced woman who welcomed us inside with a gentle smile.

Seated in her cozy living room, I listened intently as she recounted the events of that fateful night, her words painting a vivid picture of bravery and selflessness. With each detail she shared, my admiration for her grew, and I found myself drawn deeper into her narrative.

"It was a normal evening, just like any other," she began, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "But when that young man approached me, demanding my purse, something inside me just snapped. I couldn't let him take what wasn't his."

Her courage was palpable as she described the harrowing ordeal, her determination shining through even in the face of danger. As she spoke, I couldn't help but feel a surge of inspiration coursing through me, fueled by her unwavering resolve.

Turning to the man who had come to her rescue, I began to interview him, eager to capture his perspective on the events of that night. His humility was striking as he recounted his actions, insisting that anyone would have done the same in his shoes.

"It was just the right thing to do," he said modestly, his eyes reflecting a quiet strength that spoke volumes. "I couldn't stand by and watch someone in need without offering a helping hand."

His words resonated with me, stirring something deep within my soul. Here was an ordinary man, thrust into extraordinary circumstances, who had chosen to stand up and make a difference. If he could find the courage to act in a moment of crisis, then perhaps I could too.

With a click of the camera, Kyle immortalized the bond forged between the old lady and her rescuer, their smiles capturing the triumph of human kindness in the face of adversity. As we bid them farewell and made our way back to the Daily Planet, I couldn't shake the feeling of hope that had been ignited within me.

Metroplois 22nd July, 18:00 EDT

The day had flown by in a blur of interviews, note-taking, and frantic typing as Kyle and I worked tirelessly to piece together our story. As the clock on the wall struck 6 p.m., signaling the end of another long day at the Daily Planet, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me.

"Finally, time to call it a day," I sighed, stretching my arms above my head as I leaned back in my chair.

Kyle chuckled, his fingers still flying across the keyboard as he made a few final adjustments to our article. "Tell me about it. I think my fingers are going to fall off."

With a satisfied nod, we saved our work and headed over to Perry's desk to drop off our paper. Perry glanced up from his own work, offering us a tired but appreciative smile as he accepted our submission.

"Good work, you two," he said gruffly, his eyes already scanning over the pages we had handed him. "I'll make sure this gets on the presses right away."

As Kyle and I bid each other farewell, and I headed towards Clark's desk. He was gathering his belongings, preparing to leave for the day. I approached him, a mix of determination and uncertainty swirling within me.

"Hey, Clark," I called out, catching his attention as he turned to face me. "I've made up my mind. You can tell the league that I said yes."

Clark's eyes widened in surprise, a smile spreading across his face. "Really? That's great news, Angelica. They'll be thrilled to have you on board."

With a shared understanding, Clark and I left the bustling newsroom. As I stepped into the evening air, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the new chapter that lay ahead. The Daily Planet, Scarlet Bat, and now this new team – my life was taking unexpected turns, and I was ready to face them head-on.