The mansion was completely silent. It had been days since Bruce, Damian, Tim, Jason, and, of course, Alfred, had decided to take a break somewhere far from Gotham. Because everything—absolutely everything—away from Gotham always felt better.

Dick rarely descended to the cave alone. Even though he proudly bore the emblem of Nightwing, the empty mansion deeply unsettled him. The walls seemed to whisper, and the endless hallways, stretched by shadows, led nowhere. He anxiously awaited Bruce’s return because, with him around, nothing ever felt out of place. Bruce’s presence made him feel that everything, even Gotham’s chaos, was under control.

Although he wouldn’t admit it, he missed the old, grouchy Bat. Still, there were tasks to complete. He needed to finish some reports in the cave—that place where technology merged with darkness, where time seemed to stand still, almost as if it belonged to another world. It was claustrophobic, oppressive, with its constant dripping and the flutter of bat wings. Every unpleasant adjective that crossed Dick’s mind found resonance in the walls, but one in particular escaped his lips when he saw the figure that froze his body, chilled his soul, and raised the hair on his skin:

“Sinister.”

In front of him, in the dim light, stood the Penguin. Rotund as always, with his twisted smile, sharp hands, and umbrella swaying aimlessly. He said nothing, and Dick, paralyzed, didn’t either. He just stared at him in horror, unable to comprehend how he had gotten there. The mere thought of Bruce finding out was tormenting; after all, the cave was supposed to be the safest place in Wayne Manor.

Suddenly, the Penguin let out a low, cruel laugh that spread like a chill to the darkest corner of the cave. A pair of bats, startled, fled toward the heights. Dick felt fear envelop him, but in that moment, something unexpected happened.

The Penguin’s figure collapsed to the floor, revealing a crude disguise. Behind the mask, Damian was laughing uncontrollably, triumphant in his prank. Relieved, Dick exhaled deeply and allowed himself a nervous smile as the rest of the group emerged from the shadows: Bruce, Tim, and Jason, silent accomplices to the joke.

Damian, still laughing hysterically, couldn’t stop mocking his older brother. Dick, on the other hand, alternated between nervous laughter and reproachful glances. It was then that Bruce’s deep voice broke through, unexpectedly warm:

“I missed you, Dick.”

Dick, still shaken by the scare and the joy of the reunion, responded in a barely audible whisper: “I missed you too.” For the first time in days, he felt at peace, happy, like anyone would feel when finally returning home.

However, the illusion shattered abruptly.

Blood stained the cave floor. Dick lay there, with seven or eight bullets in his chest, his body weakened by the lead that had pierced him. The real Penguin, unmasked, stood over him with a dark smile, his chilling laughter replacing the joy of moments ago. The echo of that macabre laugh filled the cave, driving out any hope.

Barely conscious, Dick managed to draw a faint smile, and with his last breath, he murmured:

“I missed you too.”