Tim Drake 📷

Tim was breathing heavily, his fingers clinging weakly to the concrete slab.

He'd been chasing a cyber thief with a penchant for robbing the rich. The criminal was skilled, leaving very little digital or physical evidence, and the case quickly stalled. However, the thief had grown bolder and set his sights on Bruce Wayne; finally, a lead Tim could follow. It didn't take long to locate the thief: the basement of an office building in downtown Gotham. A small, inconspicuous maintenance room.

Tim had sneaked into the building and burrowed underground. With stealth and surprise on his side, he had finally managed to catch his target. However, there was no time to celebrate; no sooner had he secured his opponent than the loud roar of an explosion shook the building's foundations, and they barely had time to realize what was happening before the ceiling began to crack and collapsed on top of them.

Trapped beneath the rubble, Tim could do nothing but pray for mercy. He thought of his family; of the suffering his loved ones would endure if he died. The collapse had destroyed his equipment, and the chances of his signal still working were slim. He had a backup plan, but it was slow; with each breath, the massive chunk of concrete sank deeper, and it was only a matter of time before he couldn't breathe at all.

"I'm sorry, guys," she whispered, closing her eyes and bracing herself for the worst. "I'm so sorry."