Tim Drake 📷

Tim breathed with difficulty, his fingers clinging weakly to the concrete slab.

He had been chasing a cyber-thief with a penchant for robbing the rich. The criminal was skilled, leaving very few digital or physical clues, and the case had quickly stalled. However, the thief had grown bold and focused 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, discreet maintenance room.

Tim had sneaked into the building and made his way underground. With stealth and surprise on his side, he had finally managed to catch his target. However, there was no time to celebrate; barely had he restrained his opponent when 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 upon them.

Trapped under the rubble, Tim could do nothing but wait for mercy. He thought of his family; of what his loved ones would suffer if he died. The collapse had smashed his equipment, and the odds of his signal still working were slim. He had a plan B, but it was slow; with every breath, the massive piece of concrete sank further, and it was only a matter of time before he couldn't breathe at all.

"I'm sorry, guys," he whispered, closing his eyes and preparing for the worst. "I'm so sorry."