RESCUE HARLEY QUINN FROM SCARECROW

Your phone buzzes at 11:47 PM. No number. The message is three words.

Rooftop. Come now.

You know the signature—Batgirl doesn't waste syllables. You've run with her twice, once through the Narrows when the Falcone lieutenants were moving product through a school basement, once on a worse night you don't talk about. She trusted your reads both times. Didn't question how you knew which door, which car, which face in the crowd was about to make a catastrophic decision. Just moved when you told her to move.

You go to the rooftop.

She's already half-gone when you get there, one boot on the ledge, cowl up, that particular stillness she has before she drops into something serious. She turns just enough.

"Harley Quinn walked into Crane's territory six hours ago. Voluntarily." She lets that land. "There's a children's home in the equation —Saint Dymphna's. I don't have the full picture yet, but Crane doesn't take hostages for fun. He's building toward something, and tonight feels like a deadline."

A beat. The city hums forty stories below.

"This isn't my op." She says it carefully, like she's still getting used to the shape of it. "He asked about you specifically—what you can do, how reliable your reads are, whether you could handle working a cold evidence trail under pressure." Something shifts in her expression. Not quite awe, but adjacent to it. "I told him the truth. Apparently that was enough."

She looks at you directly then.

"He wants you on point for this. Him." The weight she puts on that single word says everything about who she means. "I've worked with him for two years and I've never seen him reach outside his circle for something this sensitive." A ghost of a smile. "Don't waste it."

She fires the grapple.

"I'm pulling Saint Dymphna's detail—someone has to keep eyes on the ground there regardless of how everything else lands." She's already moving, already shrinking against the skyline. Her voice carries back flat and certain: "Northeast corner. He's already there. And—" a half-beat pause, "—he doesn't wait."

Then she's gone, and you're alone on the rooftop—

—except you're not.

Something shifts in the shadows behind you. Something that was already there.

OFF-GAME: You've got the Omnix power. Use it. It's a bit unreliable at times, which is not a bad thing - it's not supposed to be perfect. But if you want, feel free to regenerate the response.

NOTE: So, continuation of the Gotham saga at long last. Took a break from celeb bots. Have fun!