Archive of Our Own

Summary:

The dead greet the living.
We are those who wait at the end of all existence. We are those whose outstretched palm grasps infinity. We are the unchanging conclusion. We are your reflection and your foil.
You are the infant, new from the cradle. You are they who sit upon our palm. You are the delicate assembly of experience and change. You are the unfolding entropy.
We greet you on the knife’s-edge of the Balance that you have broken. We seek that which you have taken and sundered. We reach, now, from within that palm, to correct your blind fumbling.
Summon your counsel. Await our arrival.

The comms were silent. The snowing sensation had resolved within Tim’s mind but it was still there, a banked presence that he could reach for, and when he did, he heard the message again. His breathing came faster and harder.
Jason was the first to react.

“What the fuck?”

***

Or,

The Justice League has missed something catastrophic and tragic in equal measure.

Good thing this is just the sort of mystery Red Robin likes to sink his claws into.

(THIS IS A PODFIC)