sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡs ᴏғ ɢᴏᴛʜᴀᴍ

ᴅᴜsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀsʜᴇs

𓆰𓆪

Damian emerged from the distance dressed in his black Robin suit.

Always worn under his clothes, each article disrobed as he approached the building and a brief pause behind a street lamp to put on his mask and kick off his open sandals for more appropriate boots he snatched from one of the store fronts.

The suit was certainly old, evident by the fading yellow accents and the R insignia hanging in its slot by the edge. It  had seen better days on the battlefield, but the most important aspect was its temperature resistant fabric. Although it wasn't necessarily meant for jumping into burning skyscrapers, it was more for the extreme temperatures of space.

The stench of burnt plastic was inescapable, and the scene outside the building was becoming unmanageable. By some shortcomings, the news vans were at the building before any of the firetrucks. A lonesome red-haired woman was already in place, and the camera pointed high as her picturesque face captured the Wayne Enterprises logo being eaten by flames.

"This is Vicky Vale, reporting live from the catastrophic fire that just broke out of the Wayne Enterprises building just moments ago."

Damian gritted his teeth as he whizzed past the camera, making a beeline for the building's main entrance, ignoring Miss Vale's comment at his arrival. He could have used his grappling hook to get to the higher floors if he didn't mindlessly pack it into the suitcase that was stuffed in Murciélago's boot. He couldn't call Alfred to bring it for him. It was just a waste of time.

Panicked interns and employees pushed against him,  forcing him to squeeze his way to the receptionist desk and climb on top of it. He runs along its full length,knocking off welcome pamphlets and sign-in sheets. The staircase had a flood of people making their way down, so he looked to the double elevators. As soon as the left one opened to release its frightened victims, Robin dashed his way in, pressing the button labeled to 92, the highest floor where his father's office is.

His chest rises as he watches the display go from G to 1 and from 1 to 2 within a matter of seconds. The lift then stops on the 39th floor, doors opening to a stampede, hurrying in and rapidly pushing the G button.

He shoves himself out of the box and waits for the other one open. As he's inside the second elevator, it stops by the 63th floor. The door was slightly opened when it happened.

A thunderous bang from floors above himself before the elevator screeches on its wires, his body wobbles at the sudden unbalance. A bomb, no doubt about it. It might have been the cause of the first fire.

Damian wedges fingers between the slit and attempts to pull the doors apart. It's not giving enough way for him to consider slipping through.

"Damnit!" His fist meets one door with a bang, smoke beginning to sip from the openings.

Just as he was about to curse the elevator for being ventless, the doors were slowly open with grunts coming from the other side as black gloved fingers reached in.

Damian makes an effort of pushing on his end, eyes becoming face-to-face with his rescue.

"Greetings Red Robin," Robin says between a grunt.

"Robin?" The strained voice of Timothy speaks out as he reaches for his bō staff and puts it between the fist size gap they managed to make.

With a press of a button, the black staff extends, allowing Damian to slip under it to escape the makeshift carbon monoxide chamber.

"How long have you been back?" Tim asks as he retracts his weapon, bringing the doors shut with a snap.

"15 minutes," Damian's voice muffles as he brings his cape to his face.