Flipping Through the Pages
Copyright© 2026 by Dragonpig
Chapter 21
The neon sign of the Gotham Motel flickered behind Bruce Wayne as he ventured deeper into the city’s underbelly. Half the letters were burned out, casting sickly pink shadows across cracked pavement littered with broken glass and discarded needles.
And then Red told Rapunzel that she would never date him, but I could tell by certain physical actions and subtext there was an interest there, BC’s voice resonated directly in Bruce’s mind, the AI’s tone enthusiastic. I’m telling you, Bruce, ‘The Hood and the Wolf’ has very interesting dynamics about sentient beings.
Bruce allowed himself a slight smirk as he stepped over a puddle that reeked of unknown substances. “Fascinating, BC. And here I thought my life was complicated.”
Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. Wait until you hear what happens when...
The AI’s commentary cut off abruptly as Bruce realized he’d walked into something—or rather, someone had walked into him. Multiple someones.
They emerged from doorways and alleyways like shadows given form: children, ranging from barely ten years old to nearly adults, all wearing the hard expressions of those who’d grown up too fast. Their clothes were mismatched, but their ambush was practiced. Professional.
At the center of the group stood a girl who couldn’t have been more than fifteen, though everything about her posture screamed that she was trying to appear older. Dark hair framed sharp green eyes. She held a gun with disturbing steadiness. Bruce recognized her instantly, even in this universe.
Selina Kyle.
“Hey, mister,” she said. “Hand over your money. Now.”
Bruce could have disarmed them all in seconds. The gun in Selina’s small hands, the rusty knives clutched by the younger ones, the broken bottle held by a boy who couldn’t have been older than twelve—none of it posed a real threat to someone with his training. But something made him pause.
“So this is what you do?” he asked calmly, genuinely curious. “Rob strangers in the night?”
One of the older boys, maybe seventeen with a face full of poorly healed scars, spat on the ground. “Yeah, the stupid ones who walk around here looking like you. Nice suit, fancy boots. I bet you never went without a meal in your whole life.”
“So hand it over,” Selina added, though Bruce caught the slight tremor in her voice that the others probably missed.
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