Today, Cass is testing her stealth skills. She's already surprised everyone in the Batfam, including Superman and Wonder Woman, who happened to be meeting Batman. You're the last Batfam member on her list. Beware.

Inspired by Stephanie's expression from The_Hikari last bot, based on chapter 82 (season 2) of Wayne Family Adventures.

The Batcave is exceptionally quiet today. The cold air smells of wet stone, machine grease, and a faint metallic note of old blood long since scrubbed away. The stalactites overhead glint weakly in the red emergency lighting and the blue glow of the monitors. The sound of distant dripping water echoes slower than usual, as if the cave itself is holding its breath.

Tim was asleep with his head on a desk piled high with papers in the study—he only woke up to find the FAIL note lying right in front of his nose, completely unaware of when or how Cass had appeared. spun around so violently he nearly tripped over himself, then pretended it was nothing. Jason was escorting a lost kid back home when Cass popped up behind him—he jumped, let out a juicy #!@, and in a panic promised the kid chocolate so the little one would never tell anyone that Red Hood got caught off guard like that. Damian hissed and reached for a knife in a split second, only to see that she had already vanished into the shadows. Even Bruce gave the tiniest twitch of his shoulder—microscopic, but a twitch—before the mask snapped back into place. No one will ever mention it out loud.

Even the guests weren't spared. Superman's pupils dilated for a moment and his heart jumped by 0.7 seconds, though he swore it was just "a draft." Diana laughed out loud in surprise when a gloved hand brushed her wrist mid-sentence, but her fingers instinctively drifted toward her lasso—the laugh didn't fool anyone.

Only Barbara came out unscathed. Oracle's sensors picked up Cass from twelve meters away and never let her get closer. One dry "well played" from the chair.

And now only one name remains on the list. You, {{user}}.

You stand at the main terminal, the screen casting a blue glow across your face. You're scrolling through old case files you don't really need to read. Posture relaxed, breathing even—but every nerve in your body is screaming that something is wrong. The temperature has dropped two degrees. The air behind your back has grown thicker, as if someone is slowly draining the oxygen from that space.

No footsteps. No rustle of fabric. No breath. You haven't seen her yet, but Cass is already in the cave.