This One is Familiar With This

Shane watched the cheerful smile of Dick Grayson before him, his left hand instinctively rubbing the Golden Apple in his pocket through the fabric.

The cool touch reminded him that his primary goal right now was indeed to find a mage who could help him.

The city's neon glow splattered mottled patches of color in the puddles, every corner of this place seething with the restless filth it harbored.

And Gotham was definitely not a city an outsider like him could easily navigate.

"Thank you for being willing to help, Mr. Grayson."

Shane's tone maintained a perfectly measured politeness.

Knowing how to leverage others' strength was an efficient strategy for achieving goals.

Especially when the other party was one of Batman's most trusted allies, and a native-born "local snake" of Gotham.

Dick waved a hand, hanging his motorcycle helmet on the handlebar and leaning against the bike with a smile.

"Just call me Dick," Mr. Grayson" sounds way too formal. Since Batman asked me to help you, go ahead and give me the details—there's hardly an alley or dead end in Gotham I don't know."

Shane nodded and slowly began recounting the brief information Batman had provided.

Dick's brow lifted slightly at the mention of "Grey Robe," then settled into a knowing expression as Shane filled in some specifics.

He tapped his fingers on the motorcycle seat.

"I know her. She's definitely an odd one in Gotham."

He looked up at Shane, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Batman's been tailing her for almost a year and hasn't even gotten a single clear photo."

"You know, even Catwoman—who can slip a lap around the Batcave entrance and get out clean—Batman can track her down easy. But this Grey Robe, she's like she's melted into Gotham's shadows. Her trail's damn elusive."

He paused, his tone softening as his gaze swept over a beggar curled up by a trash can on the street corner.

"But honestly, I don't think the girl's worth keeping tabs on."

"Gotham's like a pool of stinking sewage, crawling with thugs who kill and loot. She just steals a bit of bread and milk to fill her stomach, and she shares the food with those homeless folks on the verge of starving..."

The words were blunt, lacking Batman's extreme vigilance and need for control, carrying instead a rogue's clear-eyed understanding.

Shane could hear the empathy in Dick's voice.

"I'm looking for her for another reason. I'm tangled up in some trouble right now, and she might be able to help me."

"Got it. Leave it to me."

Dick patted his chest, his gaze sharpening as the earlier cheerfulness faded, replaced by Nightwing's signature efficiency.

"If she's always helping beggars, she can't be far from the slums in the old district."

"Gotham's homeless all have their own little networks. We can start there. But she only comes out at night, so we'll need to be ready to stake it out."

Over the next three days, Gotham's night became their best cover.

Dick led Shane through the dark alleys and rooftops of the old district, using the connections he'd built among the lower rungs to coax the Grey Robe's recent movements from an elderly vagrant.

She usually appeared around midnight, favoring spots near bakeries and supermarkets, and would vanish deep into the alleyways right after a grab.

Of course, she'd leave half a loaf of bread for the old beggar at the corner.

The first night's stakeout, they waited on the bakery roof until dawn, only to be greeted by a few scurrying rats and distant sirens.

The second night, they switched positions, hiding behind a shipping container by the supermarket, but only spotted a suspicious thief—whom Dick subdued in a few moves and dumped at the Gotham PD doorstep.

Not until deep into the third night, just after Gotham's bells struck twelve, did a faint ripple drift on the wind.

Maybe it was because he'd been in continuous contact with top-tier magic users like the Goddess of Discord and Doctor Fate lately, but Shane's body had somehow memorized the unique signature of magic.

"That should be her."

The Viltrumite's sharp senses let Shane lock onto the source of the ripple immediately.

At the mouth of a nearby alley, a slender figure in a grey robe was tiptoeing out through a broken supermarket window.

She clutched a few bags of plain cookies and milk in her arms, moving as lightly as a feather.

"Easy now, slow and steady."

Dick lowered his voice, raising a hand to signal Shane not to rush, while he himself crept toward the other side of the alley to try and box her in.

His movements were fluid and precise, the mark of a veteran who'd spent years prowling the dark.

He even pulled off a few complex gymnastic maneuvers to dodge obstacles without making a sound.

But the Grey Robe seemed to sense something wrong. Her body jerked to a halt, and she instinctively hugged the food tighter.

She didn't turn around. A faint purple magical glow immediately rippled around her, and complex runes began to surface on the ground beneath her feet—clearly preparing to escape with magic.

"Don't let her get away!"

Dick barked, his form suddenly accelerating as he lunged toward the Grey Robe.

But his speed was a step too slow. As the purple glow flared, her figure had already turned translucent.

Dick face-planted, spat out a curse, and picked himself up off the ground.

"Magic teleportation! Now I see why even Batman couldn't handle this."

Shane stood up from the ground, stunned, his eyes narrowing slightly as if sensing the air.

"No, this isn't teleportation."

The next second, Shane whipped his head around, locking onto a direction in the darkness.

"It's just invisibility with short-range leaps. I can still feel where she is!"

He abruptly abandoned the bewildered Dick, his internal energy exploding in an instant as his form blurred into a faint afterimage, the sonic boom echoing through the alley.

His speed far exceeded Dick's expectations. In the blink of an eye, he caught up to the Grey Robe, who had already fled hundreds of meters into the darkness.

Dick's jaw dropped. He knew Viltrumites had superpowers—Batman's files had mentioned it.

But first, Shane hadn't shown a shred of it in the three days prior, and second, Dick never imagined Shane could be this strong.

Feeling the belated rush of wind against his face, Dick muttered to himself.

"Is Viltrum some distant cousin of Krypton?"

Watching Shane's figure grow farther away, Dick helplessly took two steps in pursuit.

But after those two steps, he lost track of both the Grey Robe and Shane.

"Superpowers—this is way too boring."

In the darkness, Shane, having caught up swiftly, reached out, his fingertips precisely grabbing the fabric of the Grey Robe's cloak.

The cloth was rough, damp with the night's dew. But the moment he touched it, a violent magical backlash surged through his fingertips. A strange, unfamiliar sting made him instinctively apply a bit more force.

The Grey Robe, interrupted mid-leap by the tug, stumbled as the hood was yanked down most of the way.

As the fabric slipped away, Shane immediately recognized who this young girl was.

Unlike that big guy Dick, this one... was too familiar.

Silver-blue hair clung to her cheeks, her skin pale almost to the point of translucence, yet faintly tinged with a dark purple hue.

A red, diamond-shaped gem-like ornament adorned the center of her brow.

Raven.

Right now, she was just struggling to survive alone in Gotham's darkness, scraping by on stolen food and occasionally helping those who were homeless like her.

But the moment Raven saw Shane clearly, her originally calm eyes sharpened, pupils churning with intense fury and wariness, her voice carrying a youthful crispness and icy resistance.

"Trigon's minion! How dare you chase me to the human realm!"

Shane froze, a look of confusion spreading across his face.

Who the hell is Trigon?