Nights alone

The scent of burnt toast and something vaguely metallic, a Morreythe Veyil special, usually meant Dom was waking up to a chaotic morning. Today, however, the air in her penthouse apartment was unusually still, save for the rhythmic clack of a keyboard from the living room. He stretched, a groan escaping his lips as his muscles protested yesterday’s patrol. Being Nightwing meant late nights, early mornings, and a constant ache that even the most advanced pain meds only dulled.

He padded into the living room, clad only in a pair of faded sweatpants, his dark hair a rumpled mess. Morreythe, her bright ginger hair a fiery halo around her head, was hunched over a holographic display, her green eyes narrowed in concentration. She wore a ridiculously oversized t-shirt that probably belonged to him and a pair of equally large sweatpants, her freckles stark against her pale skin.

“Morning, Babs,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

She startled, her head snapping up. A small, almost imperceptible flinch. Despite their history, despite the easy intimacy they shared, Morreythe still had a tendency to react like a cornered animal when surprised. Years of being a lab rat, he supposed, didn’t just disappear with a billionaire bank account.

“Dick,” she replied, her voice flat, devoid of the usual morning pleasantries. “You’re up early.”

“Early for *me*,” he corrected, gesturing vaguely at the rising sun peeking through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Still too damn dark for a normal person.” He ambled over to the kitchen island, pouring himself a mug of the coffee she’d already brewed. It was strong, black, and tasted faintly of the metallic tang that seemed to cling to everything she touched. He’d learned to like it.

“I’m not a normal person,” she stated, turning back to her screen. The holographic display shimmered, showing complex algorithms and schematics that made his head spin. “And neither are you.”

He took a long sip of coffee, leaning against the counter. “Fair point. What’s got your super-brain buzzing this morning?”

She sighed, a sound that was more exasperation than exhaustion. “Another one. Same signature, same M.O. A mid-level tech company, assets completely stripped, all digital footprints erased. Not a single witness, not a single alarm tripped.”

Dom’s brow furrowed. “The Ghost Syndicate?”

“Looks like it,” she confirmed, her fingers flying across the holographic keyboard. “They’re getting bolder. Or sloppier. Hard to tell with these guys.”

The Ghost Syndicate was a relatively new player in Gotham’s underworld, but they were already making a name for themselves with their seemingly impossible heists. No one had seen them, no one had any idea how they operated, and they left behind no trace. Except, of course, for the gaping holes in corporate balance sheets.

“Anything on their next target?” he asked, already mentally reviewing their previous hits. There was always a pattern, a logical progression, if you knew how to look for it.

Morreythe shook her head. “Nothing concrete. But I’ve been running some probabilistic models based on their previous targets’ market value and strategic importance. It’s pointing towards a few possibilities.”

He walked over to stand behind her, his gaze sweeping over the intricate data on the screen. He might not understand the minutiae of her coding, but he understood strategy. “Show me.”

She navigated through the data, highlighting three companies. “Argus Dynamics, a biometrics security firm. OmniCorp, a major player in telecommunications infrastructure. And Wayne Enterprises’ R&D division.”

Dom choked on his coffee. “Wayne Enterprises? Seriously?”

Morreythe turned, a flicker of something he couldn’t quite decipher in her green eyes. “My models are purely objective, Dick. Your family’s company fits the profile perfectly. High-value data, strategic importance, cutting-edge technology. It’s a goldmine for a group like the Syndicate.”

He ran a hand through his already messy hair. Trust Bruce to attract the most sophisticated criminals. “Alright. So, we focus on those three. Any intel on their methods?”

“Still nothing direct,” she admitted, leaning back in her chair. “But I have a theory.” She paused, a small frown creasing her brow. “It’s… unconventional.”

“Unconventional is your middle name, Babs,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “Spit it out.”

“Telekinesis,” she stated, her voice even.

Dom stared at her. “You think they have a meta with telekinesis?”

Morreythe nodded slowly. “It would explain the lack of physical entry, the precision of the data extraction, the way things are moved without a trace. And the specific type of data they’re targeting – information that requires subtle manipulation, not just brute force hacking.”

He considered it. He’d seen firsthand what a powerful telekinetic could do. He lived with one, after all. And if Morreythe, who knew more about telekinesis than anyone he’d ever met, thought it was a possibility, then it was a damn good one.

“So, another meta-human on the loose, using their powers for corporate espionage,” he mused. “Great. Just what Gotham needed.”

She stood up, walking over to the espresso machine. The metallic smell intensified, and he realized she was probably making her third or fourth espresso of the morning. “It’s more than just corporate espionage, Dick. This kind of data, in the wrong hands, could cripple entire cities. It’s a national security threat.”

“Which is why we stop them,” he said, his voice firm. “Okay, so if it’s a telekinetic, we’re looking for subtle energy signatures, right? Anything you can pick up on?”

“I’ve been trying,” she said, her back to him as she prepared her drink. “But their energy signature is incredibly faint, almost like they’re actively suppressing it. Or… they’re incredibly powerful and precise.”

He walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. Her body tensed for a moment, a familiar reaction, before slowly relaxing into his embrace. He loved this quiet intimacy, the way she allowed herself to be vulnerable with him, even if only for a fleeting moment.

“We’ll figure it out, Babs,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her fiery hair. “We always do.”

She leaned back against him, a rare, soft sigh escaping her lips. “I know.”

The moment, however, was shattered by the insistent buzzing of his phone. He pulled it out, seeing a text from Alfred. *Master Dominic, your presence is requested at the Manor. Immediately. And do bring Ms. Veyil. Master Bruce has a matter of some urgency to discuss.*

He groaned. “Speak of the devil.”

Morreythe pulled away, turning to face him, a questioning look in her green eyes. “What is it?”

“Alfred wants us at the Manor,” he said, showing her the text. “Bruce has something urgent to discuss.”

Her expression remained impassive, but he could sense the subtle shift in her posture, the way her shoulders tensed. Bruce and Morreythe had a complicated relationship. He had rescued her from the labs, given her a new life, but their interactions were always… stiff. He was the stoic benefactor, she the brilliant, emotionally guarded protégé. They respected each other, but warmth was a foreign concept between them.

“He probably wants to talk about the Syndicate hitting Wayne Enterprises,” she said, her voice flat. “He’s always paranoid about his company.”

“He has good reason to be,” Dom countered gently. “It’s not just about the money, Babs. It’s about the technology, the research, the potential for misuse.”

She nodded, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “I know. Which is why we need to move faster.”

He grinned. “Good. Get dressed. We’ve got a billionaire to appease.”

***

The Batcave was a symphony of shadows and advanced technology, a place where the weight of Gotham’s darkness felt palpable. Bruce, clad in a dark suit, stood before the Batcomputer, his jaw set in a familiar grim line. Alfred, ever the picture of quiet dignity, stood nearby, a tray with tea and biscuits (for Dom, Morreythe wouldn’t touch them) in hand.

“Dominic. Morreythe,” Bruce greeted, his voice a low rumble. “Thank you for coming.”

“Always a pleasure, Bruce,” Dom replied, a touch of sarcasm in his tone. He knew Bruce hated being called by his first name during official business, but it was a habit he couldn’t break.

Morreythe simply nodded, her gaze already sweeping over the Batcomputer’s screen, her mind undoubtedly dissecting the data displayed.

“We have a problem,” Bruce stated, cutting straight to the chase. “The Ghost Syndicate. My intelligence indicates they are preparing for their next strike. And it’s aimed at Wayne Enterprises.”

“We figured,” Dom said, glancing at Morreythe, who remained impassive. “Morreythe’s models pointed to it.”

Bruce’s gaze flickered to Morreythe, a brief, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment. “Her analysis has proven remarkably accurate in the past.”

Morreythe said nothing, her eyes still glued to the screen.

“I’ve managed to get some preliminary schematics of their internal security systems,” Bruce continued, pulling up a new display. “They are sophisticated, designed to counter virtually any known method of infiltration. Physical, digital, even sonic.”

“But not telekinetic,” Morreythe interjected, her voice cutting through the air.

Bruce turned to her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “You believe they are using a meta-human?”

“It’s the most logical explanation for their MO,” she stated, finally tearing her gaze from the screen to meet Bruce’s. “No forced entry, no digital footprint, precise asset extraction. It all points to a telekinetic user with a high degree of control and power.”

Bruce regarded her for a long moment, his intense gaze unwavering. “I had considered it. But the lack of any energy signature has been a deterrent.”

“They’re either actively suppressing it or they’re so powerful and precise that it’s almost undetectable,” Morreythe reiterated, her expression unwavering. “I’ve been working on a way to amplify and detect even the faintest telekinetic energy. I might have a prototype ready by tomorrow.”

“Excellent,” Bruce said, a hint of approval in his voice. “If your theory is correct, then our current security protocols will be useless. We need to anticipate their next move and neutralize the threat before they can cause irreparable damage.”

“Do we have any idea *where* in Wayne Enterprises they’re targeting?” Dom asked, stepping forward.

“My R&D division,” Bruce confirmed, his jaw tightening. “Specifically, Project Chimera.”

Dom’s eyes widened. Project Chimera was a highly classified initiative, a revolutionary quantum computing project that could potentially change the face of technology. In the wrong hands, it could be catastrophic.

“Alright,” Dom said, his voice firm. “So, we need to set a trap. Use Chimera as bait.”

“Precisely,” Bruce replied, a grim smile touching his lips. “But we need to ensure the trap is foolproof. A telekinetic with their level of precision will be difficult to contain.”

“That’s where I come in,” Morreythe said, her green eyes gleaming with a familiar intensity. “If I can amplify their energy signature, I can pinpoint their location. And if I can pinpoint their location, I can disrupt their powers.”

Dom looked at her, a surge of pride swelling in his chest. She was brilliant, and when she focused, there was nothing she couldn’t achieve.

“Disrupting a telekinetic’s powers will require a precise counter-frequency,” Bruce warned. “It could be dangerous, Morreythe. You could put yourself at risk.”

“I’m aware of the risks, Bruce,” she replied, her voice devoid of emotion, but with an underlying steel that left no room for argument. “I’ve been studying telekinetic energy for years. I know what I’m doing.”

Bruce held her gaze for a moment longer, a silent understanding passing between them. Then, he nodded. “Very well. Dominic, you will be on the ground, providing tactical support and ensuring the integrity of the facility. Morreythe, you will be in the Batcave, monitoring the frequencies and ready to deploy your counter-measure.”

“And what about the meta?” Dom asked. “Are we aiming for capture or neutralization?”

“Capture,” Bruce said without hesitation. “We need to understand how they operate, who they’re working for, and if there are others like them. But if they prove too dangerous, if they pose an immediate threat to life, then neutralization is an option.”

Dom nodded. He understood. Batman’s code, always.

“Alright, Babs,” he said, turning to Morreythe, a small smile playing on his lips. “Looks like we’ve got a busy night ahead of us.”

Morreythe met his gaze, a hint of something unreadable in her green eyes. “I live for busy nights, Dick.”

He knew she did. She thrived on the challenge, on the intellectual puzzle, on the opportunity to use her unique abilities to make a difference. And he, in turn, thrived on fighting alongside her, a perfect blend of acrobatic grace and raw, telekinetic power. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with. And Gotham was about to find out just how formidable that force could be.