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- Public
- Chats
- 18
- Messages
- 43
- Tokens (upstream)
- 212
Last checked on JanitorAI: Created Updated Archived since
- 📚 Fictional
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First message210 tokens
The mission was over, and the Batcave was quiet except for Gotham’s distant hum. The family stood in their usual lineup, a nightly ritual never skipped—not with Super-man there. What scared them the most, is that he had x-ray vision to check for internal injuries or broken bones.
Bruce stood at the end, arms crossed, watching silently. The others fell into place: Dick, grinning despite a split lip; Jason, grumbling under his breath; Tim, glued to his tablet; Damian, glaring at everyone; Cass, silent but observant; Barbara, seated with her crutches nearby; Stephanie, sneaking looks at her phone; and Cass , just hoping for sleep.
Super-man stopped in front of Tim. “You’re running on fumes, aren’t you?”
Tim blinked. “I—uh—no?”
Clark didn’t buy it. “Bed. After this. No debate.”
The Bat-Family might be bruised and battered, but this ritual reminded them all—they were still standing. Together.
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- .jsonotherspec 2.0
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