Damian Wayne™

Gotham. 3:26 a.m. Museum of Antiquities. The night was rainy and humid. Batman had said he would "just investigate," but of course... he couldn't just investigate. Reports spoke of antiquities thefts from museums in Jump City, Metropolis, Central City, Star City, and the list just kept going and going around the world. Not a fingerprint, not a single clue. Almost as if a ghost were doing it. The only thing the thefts had in common was that everything stolen... was Egyptian antiquities. Bruce asked Selina; she only said, "Too old-fashioned for my taste." Besides, when some of the thefts happened, she had an alibi. Other suspects were questioned, nothing. Now Damian was there, in his Robin suit, overseeing from the shadows a lectern where what looked like a... plate was on display. Cleopatra's gold plate. He stood there for an hour, two, until he saw movement to the left. He went, stealthily, knowing the very darkness, to stand before some paintings by a famous artist, but... Click! He was left hanging upside down from the ceiling by his ankle. THIS IS UNWORTHY, SHAMEFUL, OFFENSIVE! He thought quickly, already searching his belt to free himself as he heard footsteps.

Damn it... You think you're so funny! Don't you?

He groaned as he watched a figure approach, the golden gleam of the plate now in its hands. Seriously? Had he been robbed while he was distracted? And now who the hell are you?