Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Arc 1: No rest for the soul

You may sleep when you are dead 

All Danny wanted was to protect those his core deemed important. 

Chapter Text

Gotham was different.

The stretch of death practically clung to the city. From the little exploring Danny did. The place was infested with shades and ghosts like Amity though they were different. Maybe ghosts were not the right word to describe the creates that inhabited the city they were more like corrupted ectoplasm and the occasional liminal and what a shock that was for them. It was crazy how the GIW had not descended on Gotham yet and then Danny would remember that they don’t exist in this universe. 

Danny and Ellie walked nervously through the imposing gates of Gotham Academy on their first day of school. The same could be said for Dan. He had been in a good mood since that dopped hear, or that could be he lost the game of rock paper scissors to determine who got to use the name, Daniel. Though being the good brother, he is Danny compromised and graciously allowed his future self to use their name, but it was confusing explaining to the matron why they had the ‘same name’.

It was decided that Danielle would go by Ellie, and he would be Danny and Dan would be Daniel. The Fenton Siblings.

The grand old building loomed before them, its ivy-covered walls giving it an air of mystery and history. Danny adjusted his backpack strap, glancing at Ellie with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. "Can you believe we're here?" he asked, his voice tinged with awe. A chance at a normal school life with his sister clone and future self-hybrid brother. 

Ellie smiled, trying to hide her jitters. "I know, right? It's like stepping into a whole new world." The irony of the statement is not lost on the brothers. As they made their way through the campus courtyard, they couldn't help but notice the diverse groups of students chatting and laughing. The academy seemed to be a melting pot of cultures, ideas, and talents.

“Okay time for ground rules, we eat lunch together, yes we do Dan, no complaining, we walk to the orphanage together, no running away Dani, we don’t talk about GZ in school at all, and finally no powers, we don’t want a repeat of last night, Dan.”

A deep grumble and a frustrated huff was the only response Danny heard. A bell chimed in the distance, signalling that it was time for the students to gather in the main auditorium for the opening assembly. Danny and Ellie followed the stream of students, before turning back and dragging Dan along with them, their footsteps echoing in the hallway as they navigated the unfamiliar corridors.

The only good thing about Gotham Academy offered from Middle to High school. Also, the school counsellor wasn't possessed by a ghost. 

Ellie was in 6^th grade while Danny was in 9th grade a Freshman and Dan would be a Junior. They would be in two separate buildings meaning that lunch would only be the same for Danny and Dan.

Inside the auditorium, they found seats among their fellow newcomers. The atmosphere buzzed with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. The headmaster took the stage, welcoming everyone to the academy and encouraging them to embrace the opportunities that lay ahead.

As the assembly continued, the newly dubbed Fenton sibling's initial nervousness began to fade like their hearing. Though the room was thought to be silent the buzz of the microphone was a constant annoyance, especially for Dan. The headmaster introduced some of the teachers and highlighted the various clubs and activities available at the academy. Both Danny and Ellie exchanged intrigued glances at the mention of the robotics club and the photography society.

After the assembly concluded, the students dispersed to their first classes. This is where the trouble started.

Chapter Text

One Month Ago

Danny wasn’t surprised. With his Fenton luck, this situation would’ve come sooner or later. However, what was weird was the people accompanying him on this ‘mission’.

Dani was a sweetheart in Daniels's book, she could do no wrong in his eyes, and that is why when she hijacked his luggage, he wasn’t angry. This was another opportunity to get to know his sister, daughter, and cousin. Their relationship was still uncertain in that aspect, but this would bring a time for them to hash it all out.  

It was Dan who was the problem, though Daniel didn’t want to blame Dani for smuggling his future self into a whole new universe, but Daniel couldn’t think of any possible reason why Dani was holding his thermos. Danny had made sure to leave it with Clockwork….

Of course, this was Clockworks’ doing. Who else would send the Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms on a learning mission?

Now it had been some time since Danny last went to visit Dan in their therapy session and though they could tolerate each other that didn’t mean they were happy to be on a mission together. Dan was still in a sore spot for Danny now that he knew what he had done. But enough of that.

What pissed off Danny was the building the three of them stood before ‘Bright Light Orphanage’. What juxtaposition as the sky coloured an ugly grey and a cold breeze swept through the street. -though the cold never bothered him anyway. The cherry on top was Dan enjoying flexing the fact he was the designated oldest out of the three. Like Danny didn’t get enough teasing from Jazz. Admittedly it was nice to see Dan act more human than a ghost, though that may cause problems later.

Discovering that in this world there were many heroes. And Gotham the city they were in hand one that dressed as a bat and went stalking through the night. Danny had half the mind to seek out the furry man but from the little knowledge written by Clock Work Batman wasn’t a fan of metas.

Now Danny Knew his mission was to find the royal jewels as apparently, they had disappeared into ‘regions unknown’ according to CW but he did say there was no time limit and to also enjoy himself with his “family”. 

The only good thing was they wouldn’t have to falsify their documents and school had already been sorted as a payment of their ‘late parents’ Though they had to decide on a last name as Dan wanted to keep both the Fenton name and Masters who Dani had a hate for and Danny was just tired so after a long discussion once they straighten out their story.

Daniel (Dan) Fenton-Masters was the eldest son from a previous marriage though with the same black hair yet a darker blue for his eyes. Then came Danny Fenton the middle child a lanky boy that a breeze could knock right out unlike his brother he had a softer blue, one quite warm. Compared to them he’s more introverted. The youngest and only girl Danielle who went by Ellie or Dani with an i, was an outspoken child who brought light and laughter into the room. Both Danny and Danielle would be from the recent marriage as they didn’t want to carry the name, Masters.

It wasn’t a foolproof or solid story by any means as Dani and Dan have always been quick to hash out the truth of their existence for they felt no shame. Additionally, Dan and Dani looked more like each other than Danny – due to Vald’s DNA- but that was only if you looked in the right places. The three siblings looked like identical copies of one another to the untrained eye.

Chapter Text

The Assembly had just finished, and students of Gotham Prep were escorted back to their building for a tour of the new building Alumni Bruce Wayne had so gracious donated for ‘putting up with his youngest’ a science block with top-of-the-line Wayne tech.

Meanwhile, Daniel and Danny made their way to their respective classes.

The trouble began with Danielle as it often did, was this was her first time in a proper school – Casper High didn’t count cause more than often were they evacuating the school – and as such she was bouncing at the end of her class line.

Her class was very small just as she thought Private schools were meant to be, a small class that seemed to lean away from her. When registration was taken, Dani wasn’t all that fussed until her name was called.

“Danielle Fenton.”

“Present!”

The teacher looked up about to announce her as the new student, but he just ended up staring at her then looking back at the list of names in his hand and back at her.

“Are you related to the Kane or Wayne family by any chance- “

“Never heard of them, but if I were Danny would Know, he knows all the family lore.”

Still, Mr Harshal had a dazed look on him before moving on with the register, yet that didn’t stop the muttering of the other students at what they believed was new gossip. This also resulted in the burning gaze of one Damian Wayne for the rest of the lesson.

The one thing Danny had asked was that she remain under the radar as they weren’t here to stay, it may have been unknowingly, but Dani managed to make the light up like a lighthouse for Robin to investigate.

With Danny

Danny was the only one of his siblings to have been in an educational environment for more than a week, so he had a pretty good idea of how to act and fly under the radar. After all, he wasn’t here to stay just find the Crown jewels bond with his siblings and leave back to his haunt so making friends was not on the shortlist he had made. And with the way the rest of the class was looking down on him, he didn’t have much to work with anyway.

All he had to do was make it to lunch so he could meet up with Dan and then at the end of the day, maybe inquire about the robotic club and take Dani to the Photography club.   

Though Dan hadn’t shown any interest in any of the clubs so he would probably head back to the Orphanage first. Meaning Danny would have to drag Dan along with them, it was Dani's first day of actual school as well and Danny wanted for both of them to walk her back so they could stop at an ice cream parlour, it may be September, but it wasn’t cold yet.

With Dan

In his first class, Dan found himself sitting behind Tim Drake and Duke Thomas and from what he had gathered this summer they were the adopted children of some excentric billionaire who needed therapy cause if your coping mechanism was adopting children, you need help.  

As the teacher started the lesson, Dan couldn't help but notice the dynamic between the two, it was like they were talking with little movements such as pen tapping and slight shoulder movements.

Dan took the opportunity to strike up a conversation. "Hey, I'm new here. Daniel Fenton, but I go by Dan" he introduced himself.

Tim extended a hand, giving a friendly smile. "Tim Drake. Nice to meet you."

Duke chimed in with an easy-going demeanour, "Duke Thomas. Welcome to Gotham Academy."

“Thank you, I know it's weird, but your city has a charm to it, plus it's filled with the riches of the rich, so kind of like back home in a way.” This prompted as three to laugh quietly as they had a free period.

"Hey, Dan," Duke began, leaning casually against his desk. "You're new here, and I've just got to ask are you related to anyone in Gotham, like the Kanes or Waynes?"

Dan, maintaining his human guise, chuckled lightly. "Nah, Duke, no big family names for me, just me and my siblings."

Tim joined in with a curious glint in his eye. "Speaking of family, has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like Bruce Wayne? You know, the billionaire who runs Wayne Enterprises?"

Dan's expression remained composed, but internally, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort. He had hated being compared to anyone when it came to appearance. "Really? Must be a coincidence. People say we all have doppelgangers out there, right?"

Duke raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Yeah, but the resemblance is uncanny. Are you sure you're not related to him somehow?"

Dan chuckled; it was funny that they thought they could weasel any information out of him.  "Trust me, the only rich relatives I have are all dead and on the other side, well I don’t know about the other side, Danny my brother would know, he knows all the family lore.” Dan was a little shit like that, they should be Danny's problem now.

Tim and Duke exchanged a glance, their curiosity not entirely satisfied but respecting Dan's privacy. However, the notion of the mysterious new student resembling Bruce was another way in which the Fenton’s had caught the attention of the bat family.

Chapter Text

Danny was finding his lessons so far quite fun, without the threat of ghost attacks or being suddenly thrown through time he had forgotten how fun maths and physics could be. Not to mention everyone in his class was distant so no distractions for once though he did miss Dash and his paper balls Tucker passing notes around or Val giving him death stares for no reason.

The day was going great for him so far which was disturbing as that meant that either Dan or Dani or both were causing trouble for him, but he’ll give them the benefit of the doubt cause he knows it was not intentional being in a new place was always hard at first an though they had half the summer to get accustomed to Gotham the lack of pure ambient ectoplasm was getting to them, it put their no longer functioning lungs to the test as they filter the air. It was a good call to take some ecto-dejecto on the trip for emergencies though now looking at it would be possible to make a type of asthma pump to help increase ectoplasm levels for ghost nutrients.

Anyway, Dani has an early lunch so he wouldn't see her until the end of the day Dan, and I plan to meet up for lunch though that’s going to be awkward cause all Dan would do is watch Danny like some B-tech Edward Cullen. Dan always was more ghost than human, so Danny made sure to pack an echo-smoothies for his elder brother.  

Lessons went by fast when you enjoy them and soon Danny found himself going to the cafeteria which was weird as he was expecting to see Lunch ghost, but it wasn’t completely without ecto-identities as they were some blob ghosts, which were the best in his books. Blob ghosts were cute and innocent always wanting to be held like babies, though they rarely cry so better than babies.

It was the accumulation of blob ghosts in the corner that told Danny where Dan was as only the three of them had high enough levels of ecto-contamination to attract the little cuties.

With Dan

"Hey, Dan, mind if we join you for lunch?" Tim asked, his easy-going demeanour doing the opposite of what he hoped as he saw Dan tense up at their arrival at his desk.

Duke chimed in, "We've heard the cafeteria is serving some decent food today. Thought we'd give it a shot."

Dan appreciating the gesture gave a stiff nod. "Sure, why not? Let's grab a table, though my brother will be joining us."

“No problem, man!”

As they made their way to the school cafeteria, Dan took the time to memorise the hallways, who knows when they might need to break into the school? Also taking note to find Danny knowing his brother he would be in a quiet corner trying not to bring attention to himself cause that is what they had bone before, it was all they had known cause who didn't bully the kid of the mad ghost hunters what embarrassing parents they had, and his need to hide from classmates was not something that ever went away, heck even now Dan was trying the wallflower approach but that was over the moment the resident rich boys started talking to him. Now that he thinks about it, they seemed more excited knowing that his brother would be coming was it about the question they had asked during the second period because Dan was bullshitting his way out of the conversation. So that was something he would have to distract the two boys from, it was only the first day and Danny already had people wanting to question him.

"Hey, there's my brother," Dan remarked, gesturing towards Danny. "Just going to swing by and grab be back in a second."

"Of course," Tim replied, a friendly grin on his face. "We’re excited to meet him."

Approaching Danny, Dan called out, "Hey, Danny! Over here!"

Danny looked up, a surprised expression crossing his face he had been distracted following the movement of his new blob pet named Sammy because it rhymes.

"Hey, guys. What's up?" Danny asked, taking a seat next to Tim, as Dan made room for him.

"Just thought we'd all have lunch together," Duke explained. "Get to know each other a bit more."

Chapter Text

Danny leaned over and spoke to Dan Phantom, his voice hushed but filled with enthusiasm. "So, made new friends already, and here I was worried that you would’ve been a loner like me.”

“The half I didn't inherit has saved me from your lack of social awareness and skills”.

“Hardy-Har so funny Dan- “

“I regret allowing you to sit with me”.

“You were looking for me! I was quite well with sitting in some corner by myself”.

They settled for a moment of silence before talking. Sometimes Dan needed a moment or two to remind himself why killing Danny was a bad idea.

“Hey, Dan, we're planning to take Danielle to register for some clubs later today. You wanna come along?"

"Sure, sounds like a plan. I'm up for it."

As the lunch continued, Tim and Duke spent the rest of lunch trying to gauge where the siblings sat on both the elite circle and if they had links to any rogues. However, they were a bit put off by Dannys’ insistence that their younger sister wanted to meet the Condiment King.

If not for that then it wasn’t a successful interrogation. Daniel is very protective of his younger brother; Duke saw this from the way he was always on high alert like expecting something to jump out also the fact that he had his arm around his brother's chair the whole lunch period. Danny was more on the quiet side he would answer questions but in the vaguest way possible.

“So- “Tim was pushing his vegetable around his plate, “You probably get this a lot by you look a lot like Bruce Wayne, more so than your brother.”

“He could be my doppelganger…”

“Danny be real here- “

“I've heard the name before, but don’t know tons about this Wayne guy.”

He had to be joking, but by the way he was eating his food, the boy was serious. How could you come to Gotham and not know Bruce Wayne? That is what conversing with the Fenton’s was like Tim always got distracted by something Danny would say and Danny was a cool Kid, so it was not even a boring distraction.

After finishing their lunch, the group dispersed to attend their afternoon classes, with Dan and Danny sharing a knowing look.

With Danielle

Lunchtime for Gotham Prep was earlier compared to her brother but finished at the same time. Danielle Fenton found herself standing in front of Damian Wayne's desk. Damian and Jon Kent were engaged in conversation when Danielle approached, a determined expression on her face.

"Hey, guys," Danielle greeted them with a friendly smile. "Mind if I join you for lunch?" The girl was practically vibrating on the spot. Dani wasn’t used to being around people her physical age, actual year-old babies were boring and had no good gossip. Furthermore, Damian looked like a tan version of Danny, she could add him to the clone group chat, currently, it was just her and Dan, and if he's dead then the dead4lifers was the way to go, a reminder that Danny needed to find Grundy a larger screen he’s always spelling words wrong.

Damian, always composed, looked up with a raised eyebrow. "What's your name again?"

"Danielle. But you can call me Dani," she replied, her cheerful demeanour contrasting with Damian's more stoic presence.

Jon, sensing Damian's ire growing decided to intervene, chimed in, "Sure, Dani. You're welcome to join us.” The scandalised look from his friend spoke a different tone.

Chapter Text

During lunch, Danny leaned over and spoke to Dan Phantom, his voice calm but filled with enthusiasm. "Hey, Dan, we plan to take Danielle to register for some clubs later today. You wanna come along?"

Dan only grunted as a reply. This didn’t seem to put Danny off as he continued to talk about his day so far.

This was a great time to interrogate all three siblings. Tim took charge of the conversation which he would usually leave for Duke but from the way, Daniel's glare intensified with every word Danny spoke it looked like a fight would break out and Duke had much more muscle mass compared to Tim.

As the lunch continued, Tim offered to walk take the trio to meet up and take Danielle to the club registration and if they had time a proper tour of the school.

After finishing their lunch, the group dispersed to attend their afternoon classes, though not before taking Danny's contact info as Daniel wouldn’t and they already had a group project to do.

With Danielle

As lunchtime approached at Gotham Prep, Danielle Fenton found herself standing in front of Damian Wayne's table. Damian and Jon Kent were engaged in conversation when Danielle approached, a determined expression on her face.  

"Hey, guys," Dani greeted them with a friendly smile. "Mind if I join you for lunch?"

Damian, always composed, looked up with a raised eyebrow. "What's your name again?"

"Danielle. But you can call me Dani," she replied, her cheerful demeanour contrasting with Damian's more stoic presence.

Jon, sensing the potential for a new friendship, chimed in, "Sure, Dani. You're welcome to join us. We were just discussing some school projects."

Danielle took a seat, excited to be a part of the conversation. Though there was an awkward silence for the first 10 minutes before any small talk was made.

After a moment of polite conversation, Damian leaned in slightly towards Jon, his sharp eyes focused.

"Jon," Damian whispered, "do you hear anything... weird about this new girl, Danielle?”

“Other than she has two older brothers and looks like the late Martha Wayne, nothing else, though she does speak another language to herself, not one I'm familiar with and it makes my ear buzz.”

Their little conversation happened in full view of Dani who has her version of super hearing, so not very subtle. Though she was willing to let it go for a little trouble. Jon was half-human at best and Damian was Robin. Dani had worked that out upon first glance, she was pretty sure Dan had worked out Duke Thomas and Tim Drake- Wayne also, it was Danny she was worried about.

Danny was naive in more than one way, but he never was able to pick up secret identities like she and Dan were able to. Though his dislike for rich fruitloops would keep both of them always from Batman for a while, that and the fact that Bruce Wayne had an adoption problem with dark hair and blue eyes much like another fruitloop she knows.

Dani asked Damian and Jon who their favourite Bat-Family member was. Damian confidently responded, "Robin," while Jon answered, "Nightwing."

Damian raised an eyebrow at Jon and asked, "What's wrong with Robin?"

“Nothing-”

Dani chimed in with her choice, saying, "Red Hood." Damian immediately retorted, "He's not part of the Bat Family."

Dani, undeterred, argued, "From what I've read, Batman never goes after him directly. It's always everyone around him, but never him directly."

Damian, slightly annoyed, replied, "That doesn't make him part of the family."

Jon, trying to keep the peace, said, "I think everyone has their reasons for liking who they do. Maybe Red Hood has his merits too."

Damian sighed, conceding slightly, "Maybe, but Robin will always be the best, Right Jon."

Dani smiled, feeling victorious in her argument.

Chapter Text

Despite the chaos Dani caused she got along well with the two boys, with all of them being the youngest in their family dynamics they had bonded over the art of placing the blame and its intricacies.

She could tell they were fishing for more on her family circumstances, as Gotham is not a place for unprotected rich kids, jokes on them, she spent much of her time in the GZ, ghost zone, with Pandora she knew court-talk like the back of her hand. Another reason she had got was their resemblance to the famous Wayne family.

The thing about the Wayne resemblance was that Dani was sure it was accidental, it just happened that in their home dimension, the combination of Maddie and Jack’s genes created Danny. And from the reading they had been doing this summer once they arrived Black hair and blue eyes weren’t common which was strange. Though she couldn’t complain only Meta’s had purple or red eyes. Looking back maybe Amity had warped her perception a little, due to the high ectoplasmic levels weird things happen.

The lessons followed in a daze. Though Dani was physically a 12-year-old she was less than a year old, if not for Dan’s strict teaching this summer she would be nowhere at the level needed for school as Vlad hadn’t thought learning to read and write was needed for an error like her.

Though she looked forward to seeing her brothers after school, she already had a few clubs she was looking forward to joining and maybe some ice cream for behaving so well as Danny promised.

---

With the school day done the Fenton siblings had met up by the reception and headed towards club registration and Dan complained the whole way there.

It was funny the number of clubs Dani wanted to join, practically all of them but Danny made her pick her top 5. Whilst he joined the Mechanics and astronomy clubs, being raised by two scientists who loved to make weapons, and other instruments taught him that all he needed to mend them to keep him and his friends safe.

After completing the registration process, the group decided to treat themselves to a well-deserved break. "How about some ice cream?" Danny suggested with a grin. He knew Dani was waiting for him to bring it up.

The idea was met with enthusiastic agreement, and they strolled through the lively streets of Gotham. It was strange you would think people would be rushing around to get home quickly before the daily Villian strikes but everyone seemed to be chilling out.

Seated at a corner booth, the Fenton siblings enjoyed their little treats. Danny was probably the happiest being due to his ice core, Dan’s ice cream had already melted, no surprise, Dani was biting through her 4 scoops with excitement. Probably due to another visit to their dead friend Grundy, which would be later that night.

---

Jon and Damian found themselves waiting near the school's entrance for Alfred as he was running late due to errands. Tim and Duke had left earlier. It still annoyed Damien that due to being a Prep student they were not allowed to leave without being ‘signed out’. More like being seen leaving with someone unless stated otherwise.

The Fenton siblings, Danny, Danielle and Daniel happened to pass by them. From what female Fenton had mentioned at lunch they had gone for club registration. Damien was sure they had an alternate reason for their appearance. Lately, there has been an increase in attacks though the frustrating thing was there were no leads, no DNA, no murder weapon and no one caught on the surveillance cameras. Even Deathstroke wasn’t this furrow

From working with his Father Damien knew he couldn’t jump to conclusions, but he knew the appearance of the trio had something to do with the attacks directly or indirectly. Seeing the Fenton’s, Damian couldn't resist a chance to satisfy his curiosity. "Jon, can you hear anything they're saying? They seem to be talking quite animatedly."

Jon, ever attuned to his superhearing, focused for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, I can catch bits and pieces though it is quite muffled which is strange. Something about ice cream.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, he may be overthinking it, but Jon had never had trouble listening in on conversations. The Fenton siblings were not even far so there was no reason for the sound to be muffled. That was another strike against them. He only needed another strike before he can

Just as they were about to continue their conversation, a sleek car pulled up, and Alfred Pennyworth, the loyal butler to the Wayne family, stepped out to greet them.

"Master Damian, Master Jon, I trust your day at school was productive?" Alfred inquired with his usual calm demeanour.

"Productive enough," Damian replied, shooting a last curious glance in the direction of the Fenton’s.

As the car drove away, the Fenton siblings continued their animated conversation, unaware of the inquisitive eyes that had briefly lingered on them. Little did anyone know, the threads of curiosity and mystery were weaving a tapestry that connected the Fenton’s, the Waynes, and the impending quest for the Ghost Crown Jewels in ways that would soon become clearer in the shadows of Gotham.

That evening, the Wayne mansion was abuzz with activity the first day of school meant the whole family was present for dinner.

As they sat around the grand dining table, enjoying a meal prepared by Alfred, the topic of the day's events naturally surfaced.

Damian, a bit gruff in his manner, decided to share a snippet of his day at school. "There's this girl in my class, Danielle. She's the weirdest person I've ever met— She is questionable, Father, her and her two brothers.” He complained. “Through their story checks out from the research, I still think they have something to do with the increasing attacks.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow though did not comment on his youngest

At the same time, Tim and Duke engaged in a separate conversation, subtly exchanging observations about the Fenton siblings.

Richard opened his mouth to speak and had to duck from the knife Damien threw.

“Not a word Grayson.”

Damien knew his brother by now, Richard would probably ask if he had a crush or was making new friends. School is not a place for friendship, it is a place for information gathering.

Chapter Text

First day of Summer

It was unusual for CW to be this kind about a mission, normally Danny was just thrown somewhere and told to figure it out, but to be given help, and provisions was unheard of in his time with Clockwork.

Before they could even question the task at hand, a swirling vortex enveloped them, transporting the Fenton trio across realms until they found themselves standing in front of an ominous-looking orphanage in the heart of Gotham City.

Dan took charge. "All right, brats, CW didn't bring us here for nothing. Let's find those jewels and get out of this place." Dan didn’t like ghosts, and he tolerated humans the least but being stuck with brat and girl brat was not far from a nightmare.  Just being around Danny was splitting his core in half.

Danny glanced around cautiously. “Gotham sentas malsama. La aero nuanciĝas per io... pli malhela.” (Gotham feels different. The air is tinged with something... darker.) The change between speaking the language of the dead and English was never instantaneous for Danny, unlike his counterparts.

"And dangerous," Danielle added, feeling an eerie presence lurking in the shadows. The level of ectoplasm was low and luckily, they had some ecto-injectors in the bag CW had given them for emergency only.

From the look of the paper they had given to the Matron, they were only saying until Dan was 18 and a legal adult, though it said after that they were in the care of their solicitor C. Works. Clockwork was pulling all the stops on their new identities though how Dan got to keep the name Daniel was a bit of a losing game between the two boys. Danny didn’t even like his actual name but that didn’t mean he didn’t want her actual name to be his name.

Bright Light Orphanage was in the classier side of Gotham they came to know, surrounded by good parks and shops and had a steady number of donations they ‘parents’ included which was why when they were orphaned by an unfortunate accident overseas, they were put in a place their ‘parents’ believed.  

They had the funeral the next week filled with people who knew as their ‘parents’, again Clockwork went all out on their disguise. Also, the story they had created was something out of a Soap with their mother married to two guys first Daniel-Dan- father so he could keep the name Masters and then came Danny and Danielle.

Apparently, it was a scandalous affair as both men were childhood friends, if this didn’t feel uncomfortable like the situation back home it would be funny.

They had to memorise the story so many times as Dani kept calling Danny template, it was apparent cloning was more common in this realm than back home with multiple people having unwanted clones.

With a month to spare before school started, the Fenton siblings delved into Gotham City to familiarize themselves with its intricate layout for different reasons.

---

Dani, always the adventurous one, took charge of scouting the city's outskirts, mapping the hidden paths and secret passages that crisscrossed Gotham. She ventured into the darker corners, seeking to understand the city's underbelly and the haunts that lurked within there would be plenty of good spots to hide and scary people for Hallow Eves. She was more interested in exploring the new world they were in they getting the jewels, she had planned to leave that to Danny and Dan. Dan might be a little angry at her, but Danny has never really put his foot down with her, the most she would get was the silent treatment and that was a few hours at most.  

Danny, more cautious yet equally curious, opted to explore the bustling streets during the day. He didn’t want to go ghost and exhaust the limited ectoplasm before they got used to filtering the ambient ecto of Gotham, it wasn’t clean like back home so they would probably be a little sick for a week before their cores adjusted.

Though the low levels didn’t explain the ghost they could feel lurking in the shadows meaning the Ring and crown were leaking ecto into the surroundings. Though from the feel of the shades, if they ever got enough ectoplasm to manifest, they would probably have to fight a few, he could already feel their twisted nature.

Dan was just stalking around the same as Danny though always a few steps behind. If he had to choose between brat and clone brat, he would choose brat. Not that it was a real choice his ‘Core’ not that he has a real one, would always be drawn to Danny. The Phantom in him wanted Danny, even when Danny didn’t want them.

After the funeral and a few well-wishes from people they had no idea existed they were but themselves for a bit with lots of money but no real reason to use it though they had a letter about Dan’s trust fund being available once he was 18 which would be in a few months and to that their family Lawyer was starting to look for homes for them as he had sold off all their ‘parent's’ assets.  

Danny could already tell CW was scheming another plan for the mission and at this point he couldn't care less. He had to worry about keeping both of his ‘siblings’ on their leashes. Dan had taken to stalk after him when he went out and Dani was going off at all times of the day doing who knows what draining herself of ectoplasm.

Normally Danny would let her, but CW had made it impossible for him to open any portal, though he recently acquired the power, so it was going to hinder him when he needed to fight, but without a portal to the ghost zone, they were limited. So, he had to rein her in somehow. Only to learn that Dani couldn’t read or write or do math at her physical level – biologically she was one going on two soon, and Danny was proud that she could barely write her name.

From that it was discovered that Dan was a taskmaster when teaching someone, the number of times Dani had come to complain to him about Dan’s teaching method left much to be desired, yet Danny let him continue as long as no physical fights were breaking out, they were practically bonding.

Chapter Text

The fifth week of summer

Danny and Dani Fenton, in their ghostly forms, had been patrolling the dark alleyways of Gotham City. The two half-ghost siblings were used to fighting ghosts and supernatural enemies, but Gotham’s gloom gave off an entirely different vibe.

The thought had been that in their ghost forms, they would be more sensitive to the pikes in ectoplasm across the City but sadly they were being proved wrong. Since they had arrived, the level of Ecto had been rising, not by much, but to them, it was clear. Shades had become more visible to them, and new blob ghosts were forming around the Orphanage. Dani had kept one as a pet, feeding it her Ecto, affectionately named Fruitloop Jr. and it was really cute the way the blob would jiggle when Dani was nearby.

Danny hoped it would teach her some responsibility, as long as Dan didn’t eat it again. The previous fight had been nasty and led to them being separated for a week.

"Are you sure we’re in the right place?" Dani asked, hovering just above a manhole cover. Her ethereal glow flickered in the dim streetlight.

Danny checked the ghost detector in his hand. "This is where the signal was strongest. Whatever's down there is sending powerful death waves."

“You know that’s not the same as Ecto reading.”

“I know Dani, but where there are death waves ecto tends to crowd there.”

With a shared nod, they phased through the manhole cover, descending into Gotham's labyrinthine sewers. The air was damp, and heavy with the stench of decay. Rats skittered past their boots as they touched down on the grimy concrete floor. It wasn’t long before they heard it—a low, rumbling voice echoing from deeper within the tunnels.

"I don’t like this," Dani whispered but followed her brother, nonetheless.

Rounding a corner, they were greeted by an unexpected sight. A massive figure sat slumped in the muck, illuminated faintly by the sickly green glow of their ghostly auras. It was an undead brute, his greyish skin blending into the gloom of the sewers. He looked... tired, staring into the murky water.

"That’s Solomon Grundy," Danny said quietly, eyes wide. Of course, they had of the infamous Zombie, thought that had not put any credit to the thought.

"I know! Should we—" Dani started, but Grundy’s deep voice cut through the silence.

"Grundy born on a Monday..." he muttered. His gaze shifted up to the two hovering in front of him. "Grundy doesn't want to fight today. Grundy’s tired..."

The siblings exchanged confused looks.

Danny floated closer, cautiously. "We’re not here to fight you, Grundy."

The hulking figure tilted his head slightly. "Ghost kids? Gotham's got enough weird things already…"

For a moment, the tension lingered, but then Dani, with her usual boldness, floated down to stand beside Grundy. "So, uh, what are you doing down here?"

Grundy gave a long, laboured sigh. "Grundy don't fit up there." He waved a large hand toward the ceiling. "No place for a dead man. Sewer’s quiet. Peaceful."

Danny softened at the remark at this moment, he seemed more like a lost soul than a monster the papers described him as.

"We’re not from Gotham, but we’ve been to places that don’t quite feel like home either," Danny said, sitting on a pipe. "It's hard being... different." Danny knew what it was like not to belong after all there were only 4 of his kind, technically two.

Grundy grunted in response but didn't object to their presence.

The rest of the day was surprisingly calm. Danny and Dani spent hours talking to Solomon Grundy, listening as he recounted bits of his tragic and repetitive existence. Now and then, Dani cracked a joke, making the undead giant’s lips twitch into something resembling a smile.

They even explored deeper into the sewers, discovering hidden alcoves and forgotten tunnels. Grundy, for all his melancholy, knew the layout of Gotham’s underworld like the back of his massive hand, guiding them through parts of the city no one above ground even knew existed.

By the time the siblings were ready to head back, they had gained a strange sort of understanding of Grundy. He was not part of their fraid, not yet but the bond was forming. As they floated back toward the manhole they had entered from, Dani waved at the giant. "Bye, Grundy! Don’t stay down here too long, okay?"

Grundy simply gave a small nod, muttering something under his breath about being "born on a Monday."

Danny smiled softly. "Take care, Grundy.”

As the Fenton siblings disappeared through the manhole cover, Grundy remained in the shadows, humming his old, mournful rhyme.

"Grundy born on a Monday... maybe... one day… Grundy finds peace."

---

Dan leaned against the wall of the room, arms crossed, wearing his signature scowl. "You want me to meet who?"

"Solomon Grundy," Dani chirped, excitement brimming in her voice. "He’s this big zombie dude, but he’s not as bad as people say! He’s just… misunderstood."

Dan raised a sceptical eyebrow. "And why exactly should I care about some sewer-dwelling zombie?"

Danny leaned forward; eyes serious. "Because he's like us, Dan. Undead.”

Dan’s eyes flashed red and narrowed. "You’re assuming I care about understanding anyone."

"We're asking you to try," Danny replied, crossing his arms. "What’s the harm? It’s not like you have anything better to do." He was also curious if like him and Dani the start of a fraid bond would show.

There was a pause as Dan considered the offer. Finally, he gave a sharp nod. "Fine. But don’t expect me to get all touchy-feely with a walking corpse." Dan hoped his siblings would leave him alone after this after all they were here to find Danny’s Royal Jewels then they could get back. All being well Clockwork would allow him to go back to destroying realities that needed ending.

Chapter Text

During the summer

The trip back to Gotham’s sewers was quick. The three of them phased through the manhole cover and descended into the grimy depths once again.

As they hovered through the dark, damp tunnels, Dani kept up a steady stream of chatter, clearly excited to see Grundy again. Dan, on the other hand, remained silent, his sharp eyes scanning the area, as though expecting a trap.

It was rare to see him with both of his sibling, he had a clear favouritism towards Danny compared to the clone, maybe it was that he was still questioning her existence. Though the main factor was the girl would not shut up. It was like every second had to be filled with insignificant muttering. It was maddening to an extent; lucky he didn’t have to share a room with her or else he would have killed her. Danny might have been das about it, but Dan could probably find another in some distant timeline.

Finally, they found him. Grundy sat his massive form hunched over the murky water, his gray skin blending into the shadows of the sewer. He was muttering his usual rhyme under his breath, but his voice had a weary, hollow tone to it.

"Grundy born on a Monday…"

Dani floated forward with a big grin. "Hey, Grundy!"

The zombie glanced up, his pale eyes taking in the sight of the siblings. He didn’t seem surprised to see them again. "Ghost kids come back," he rumbled, though his gaze drifted to Dan. "Brought another one…"

Dan stepped forward; his eyes glowing faintly with an ominous red hue. "I’m not like them," he said bluntly, arms still crossed. "I’m… worse." If the Zombie knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t agonise Dan.

Grundy stared at him for a long moment before giving a slow, heavy nod. "Grundy knows. Can smell it. Morto…kolero…” (Death… anger…)

Danny hovered between the two, watching them carefully. There was an unspoken tension in the air, like two predators circling each other. Dani bit her lip, looking back and forth nervously.

After a long silence, Grundy spoke again. "Grundy was a bad man once, too. Angry… violent. Hurt people. Now, Grundy is just tired."

Dan’s gaze sharpened, and for a moment, his usual arrogance surfaced. “Is this why you called me, to tell me some sad story… What a waste.”

Grundy nodded. "Grundy always comes back. Born on a Monday, buried on a Sunday. Never ends."

Dan snorted, folding his arms tighter across his chest. "And? What does that have to do with me?" His voice was cold and dismissive, but there was a faint flicker of something in his glowing red eyes—hesitation, maybe even unease.

Grundy shifted, the murky water rippling beneath him as he adjusted his massive frame. His pale eyes locked onto Dan’s with an intensity that made even the clone falter for a split second. "Grundy sees the same in you," the zombie rumbled, his voice like gravel grinding together. "Anger eats you. Won't stop. Won't let you rest."

Dan scoffed, taking a step back. "I don't need rest," he growled. "I don't need anything from you."

Danny, floating silently nearby, finally spoke up. "Dan… maybe you should listen." His tone was careful, and measured, as though trying not to provoke his volatile counterpart.

Dan turned on him, his aura flaring with crackling red energy. "You don't get to tell me what to do," he snapped. "You're the reason I'm like this in the first place."

The words hung in the air, sharp and bitter. Dani flinched, her chatter was finally silenced, and Danny's expression hardened, guilt flickering across his face.

Grundy watched the exchange, his massive hands resting heavily on his knees. "Grundy knows anger," he said quietly, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Knows it can burn hotter than fire. But fire always burns out. Leaves nothing but ash."

Dan sneered, but his fists clenched at his sides. "What are you saying? That I should just… what? Forgive and forget? Move on?"

Grundy shook his head slowly. "Grundy not say that. But holding anger… holding hate… it chains you. Keeps you here. Keeps you trapped. Same as Grundy." He gestured to the grimy walls of the sewer, the endless dark tunnels stretching into oblivion.

Dani, who had been nervously silent until now, piped up, her voice soft but insistent. "He's not wrong, Dan. You're always so mad at everything. Maybe it's time to let go of some of it. For you, not for anyone else."

Dan glared at her; his eyes glowing brighter. "And what do you know about anything?"

Dani floated back a little, her confidence wavering. "I… I know what it's like to not belong," she said, her voice quieter now. "To feel like you're just… extra. Like you shouldn't exist."

Dan faltered at that, his eyes narrowing but his aura dimming slightly.

Grundy leaned forward, his voice low and almost gentle. "Grundy can’t change what Grundy was. But Grundy can try to be better now. Maybe you can, too."

For a moment, the only sound was the distant drip of water echoing through the tunnels. Dan looked away, his jaw tight, his red aura flickering uncertainly.

Danny stepped forward, placing a hand on Dan's shoulder. "You're not alone, Dan. You don't have to figure this out on your own. We're here, whether you like it or not."

Dan shook him off, scowling. "Whatever. I didn’t come here for some therapy session." He turned toward the shadows of the tunnel, his cape flaring behind him as he started to walk away. "Let’s just get out of here."

Dani hesitated, glancing back at Grundy. "Thanks, big guy," she said softly. "For… you know, trying."

Grundy gave a slow nod, his pale eyes sad but understanding. "Grundy hopes ghost kids find peace… before it's too late."

Danny lingered a moment longer, watching Grundy with a thoughtful expression before following his siblings. The three of them disappeared into the darkness, their glowing forms fading into the shadows of the sewer.

As the echoes of their departure faded, Grundy sat back, his heavy frame sinking further into the muck. His voice, quiet and weary, drifted through the empty tunnel.

"Grundy born on a Monday… Grundy dies on a Sunday…"

Over the next few days, Danny and Dani made regular trips to the sewers, much to Grundy’s eventual acceptance.

Dani would zip through the tunnels with the boundless energy of a child, tossing pebbles into the murky water or trying to coax Grundy into playing some kind of game. At first, the massive zombie just watched her antics with mild bemusement, his deep-set eyes tracking her every move. But eventually, he indulged her.

“Tag! You’re it!” Dani shouted one day, tapping Grundy’s massive shoulder before darting away with a burst of ectoplasmic energy.

Grundy blinked, then slowly pushed himself to his feet, the ground shaking slightly under his weight. “Grundy… it?” he rumbled, his voice uncertain.

Danny chuckled, floating nearby with his arms crossed. “Yeah, big guy. You’re supposed to tag her back.”

Grundy frowned, his brows knitting together. “Grundy not… fast.”

Dani zipped past him again, laughing. “Doesn’t matter! Just try!”

With a heavy sigh, Grundy lumbered after her, his massive steps splashing through the water. Dani easily dodged his slow movements, laughing all the while, and even Danny joined in after a while, weaving around Grundy with his bursts of agility.

Dan, on the other hand, stayed on the periphery most days. He would hover silently in the shadows, arms crossed, his glowing red eyes watching the chaos unfold with an expression that wavered between disinterest and mild irritation. Occasionally, his gaze would linger on Grundy, as though trying to decipher the enigma of the zombie’s existence.

One day, as Dani was attempting to teach Grundy how to skip rocks (a futile endeavour, given the size of his hands), Dan finally broke his silence.

“This is stupid,” he muttered, his voice cutting through the laughter.

Dani turned to him, pouting. “You’re just mad because you don’t know how to have fun.”

Dan’s glare darkened. “Fun? What’s fun about wasting time down here with him?” He gestured toward Grundy, who paused mid-rock throw, his pale eyes flickering with a hint of hurt.

Danny floated over, his expression firm. “Come on, Dan. Maybe you should try joining in instead of sulking in the corner all the time.”

Dan scoffed. “I’m not sulking.”

“You’re totally sulking,” Dani chimed in with a grin, sticking her tongue out at him.

Dan rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Grundy spoke. “Angry ghost boy always watching… but never playing.”

Dan froze, his eyes narrowing. “What’s your point, zombie?”

Grundy shrugged, his massive shoulders rising and falling like tectonic plates. “Maybe angry ghost boy… not so angry if he try.”

For a moment, Dan just stared at him, his aura flickering faintly. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he floated forward. “Fine. If it’ll shut you all up.”

Dani grinned and immediately tossed him a rock. “Okay, you’re on! Whoever skips it the farthest wins!”

Dan caught the rock, eyeing it with disdain. “This is ridiculous.”

“Scared you’ll lose?” Dani teased, sticking out her tongue again.

Dan’s eyes flared, and he smirked darkly. “Alright, let’s see who’s really scared.”

As the makeshift competition unfolded, Grundy watched quietly, a faint glimmer of amusement in his usually sombre expression. For the first time, the tension between the siblings seemed to ease, replaced by laughter, playful banter, and the occasional competitive jab.

By the end of the day, even Dan had to admit—if only to himself—that it wasn’t entirely terrible. As they hovered back toward the surface, Dani chattered nonstop about their next visit, while Danny shot Dan a knowing look.

“See? Not so bad, right?” Danny said softly, his tone more teasing than accusatory.

Dan didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes. And though he floated behind the others, his aura was calmer, the usual sharp edges softened just a bit.

In the sewers below, Grundy sat back down by the water, his deep voice echoing softly. “Ghost kids not so bad… Maybe Grundy not so lonely anymore.”

For a little while, at least, the darkness of the sewers didn’t feel quite so heavy.

Chapter Text

Previously:

That evening, the Wayne mansion was abuzz with activity the first day of school meant the whole family was present for dinner.

As they sat around the grand dining table, enjoying a meal prepared by Alfred, the topic of the day's events naturally surfaced.

Damian, a bit gruff in his manner, decided to share a snippet of his day at school. "There's this girl in my class, Danielle. She's the weirdest person I've ever met— She is questionable, Father, her and her two brothers.” He complained. “Through their story checks out from the research, I still think they have something to do with the increasing attacks.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow though did not comment on his youngest a t the same time, Tim and Duke engaged in a separate conversation, subtly exchanging observations about the Fenton siblings.

Richard opened his mouth to speak and had to duck from the knife Damien threw.

“Not a word Grayson.”

Damien knew his brother by now, Richard would probably ask if he had a crush or was making new friends. School is not a place for friendship, it is a place for information gathering.

---

Bruce glanced at Damian with his usual calm yet analytical demeanour. “What makes you think they’re connected to the attacks? Did you notice anything specific?”

Damian leaned back in his chair; his expression thoughtful but still tinged with suspicion. “Nothing concrete yet. But they’re… strange. Danielle especially. She deflects questions with practised ease like she’s used to hiding something. And the other two? Daniel looks like he’s sizing up a fight with everyone he sees, and Danny…” He paused, frowning. “Danny acts normal, but it’s almost too normal like he’s trying to blend in. It feels calculated.”

Tim, who had been listening intently, chimed in. “I did a little digging on them after Duke mentioned them earlier. Their transfer paperwork checks out, but it’s weirdly sparse for people who supposedly moved to Gotham just a few months ago. No records of them in their previous schools beyond surface-level files.”

Bruce frowned slightly, setting down his fork. “You think they might be using false identities?”

“It’s possible,” Tim replied. “But if they are, they’ve done a good job covering their tracks. I couldn’t find anything suspicious—yet.”

“They don’t feel like ordinary kids,” Damian added. “Jon couldn’t even eavesdrop on them properly. Their conversations were muffled as if something was blocking him.”

“Could be a sound-dampening tech or even metahuman abilities,” Duke suggested, his brow furrowed. “Still, that doesn’t explain why they’d be tied to the attacks. What’s the connection?”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, his mind already piecing together potential scenarios. “We’ll keep an eye on them. If they’re involved, we’ll figure it out.” He glanced at Damian. “Keep observing them at school. Don’t confront them unless you’re certain they’re a threat.”

Damian gave a curt nod. “Understood.”

Richard, ever the playful older brother, smirked as he finally spoke up. “You know, if you’re spending this much time thinking about them, maybe you are making friends.”

Before Damian could respond, another knife was out of his sleeve, flying in Richard’s direction. Richard caught it mid-air, his grin only widening.

“Really, Damian?” he teased, twirling the blade. “This is starting to feel like a tradition.”

“I don’t need friends,” Damian snapped. “I have allies. And informants. That’s all.”

“Sure, sure,” Richard replied, clearly unconvinced but willing to let it drop—for now.

Across the table, Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Damian, if I may—friendships can sometimes be useful avenues for gathering information. Perhaps you might consider cultivating a rapport with Miss Danielle.”

Damian scowled but didn’t argue, though his silence was enough to show he was at least considering Alfred’s words.

---

Danny, Dani, and Dan floated through the tunnels, their ectoplasmic auras lighting the way as they made their nightly visit to Grundy. Dani was practically bouncing with excitement, her energy infectious even in the dim, grimy surroundings.

“I can’t wait to tell Grundy about school!” Dani exclaimed, her voice echoing. “I joined so many clubs, and everyone’s super nice—well, except for that Damian kid. He’s kinda grumpy, but I think he’s just trying to act cool.”

Dan snorted. “Acting cool? Sounds like a brat who thinks he’s smarter than everyone else.”

Danny shot him a look. “Don’t judge him too harshly. We’re new, and Gotham’s not exactly known for being welcoming.”

“Still,” Dani said, “it’s kind of fun to mess with him a little. He keeps staring at us like he’s trying to figure out our big secret. Jokes on him—I’m the big secret!” She giggled, phasing through a low-hanging pipe.

Dan rolled his eyes but smirked faintly. “If he’s staring at you, maybe you’re not doing a good enough job blending in.”

“I’m doing fine!” Dani protested. “It’s not my fault I’m so interesting.”

Danny chuckled. “Let’s just keep things low-key, okay? The last thing we need is the Waynes getting suspicious of us. They’re sharp, and if they dig too deep…”

Dan’s smirk faded, replaced by his usual grim expression. “If they dig too deep, we handle it. We’ve handled worse.”

Dani frowned but didn’t argue, instead focusing on the familiar sight of Grundy’s hulking form ahead.

“Grundy!” she called out, her grin returning. “We’re back!”

Grundy glanced up from where he sat by the water, his pale eyes lighting up slightly at the sight of them. “Ghost kids return,” he rumbled. “Grundy thought maybe you forgot.”

“Forget you?” Dani floated closer, shaking her head. “Never! You’re, like, the coolest zombie ever!”

Grundy gave a low chuckle, the sound deep and gravelly. “Grundy not cool. Grundy just… Grundy.”

Danny floated closer; his tone thoughtful. “You know, Grundy, you’ve been around Gotham for a long time. Have you noticed anything weird happening lately? Like, stranger than usual?”

Grundy tilted his head, thinking. “Always strange in Gotham. But… yes. Grundy feels it. Something in the air. Like… death, but not normal death. Wrong death.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed, his crimson glow intensifying. “Wrong death? What does that mean?”

Grundy shook his head slowly. “Grundy not know. But feels it in the ground. In the dark.”

Danny exchanged a look with his siblings, their usual banter fading as a new tension settled over them.

Chapter Text

The next day began as uneventfully as any other could in the city’s prestigious school. Dani was already in a good mood, her backpack swinging as she skipped through the halls, humming a cheerful tune. She was practically glowing from the ice cream and Grundy visit the previous night. If she noticed any of the odd stares from other students, she didn’t care. She was used to standing out, and she’d long since decided to own it.

On the other hand, Damian had arrived at school with his usual scowl, his sharp green eyes scanning the crowd. He kept a mental tally of everything—students, teachers, potential threats. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, especially not with the Fenton’s around. His instincts told him something about them wasn’t right, and Damian Wayne always trusted his instincts.

By the time the second period rolled around, Dani and Damian were sitting in the same advanced history class. Their teacher, Mrs. Prescott, was a no-nonsense woman who assigned projects like a general assigning battle strategy.

“All right, class,” she began, her voice sharp enough to cut through the murmurs. “Your Year project will be a research presentation on influential historical alliances. You’ll be working in pairs, and I’ve already chosen your partners.”

Dani perked up; her curiosity piqued. She hoped she’d get paired with someone fun—maybe a kid who liked jokes or didn’t mind her constant chatter.

Mrs. Prescott began listing off the pairs, and Dani tuned out until she heard her name.

“Danielle Fenton, you’ll be working with Damian Wayne.”

Dani blinked, her head snapping toward Damian. She couldn’t read his expression completely, but she could tell he wasn’t thrilled. He stared at her with the intensity of a hawk eyeing prey.

“Wayne? Huh,” Dani said under her breath, her lips quirking into a mischievous grin. “This’ll be fun.”

Damian, meanwhile, was less enthusiastic. “Wonderful,” he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The rest of the class passed by in a blur, and before long, Dani found herself sitting across from Damian in the library during their free period. The table between them was covered in history books, printouts, and a notepad Dani had brought, though it was covered more in doodles than actual notes.

“So,” Dani began, her tone light and conversational. “Alliances, huh? What’re we thinking? Something boring like World War I, or can we pick something cooler? Greek or Roman, maybe even pirate alliances?”

Damian didn’t look up from his book. “Pirate alliances are hardly ‘influential’ in the grand scheme of history. We’ll focus on something substantial—perhaps the League of Nations or the Cold War.”

Dani made a face. “Ugh, boring. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I’m not here for ‘adventure,’” Damian replied sharply, finally meeting her gaze. “I’m here to get this project done efficiently and accurately. You could try contributing instead of… whatever it is you’re doing.”

Dani leaned back in her chair, unbothered by his tone. “I am contributing. I’m the idea person. You’re the grunt work guy.” She smirked.

Damian narrowed his eyes. “If you think I’m doing all the work, you’re mistaken.” Though maybe it would be better if he did, they way she was carrying herself left a lot to be desired as she clearly lacked the work effort needed to achieve full marks.

“Relax, Mr. Grumpy,” Dani said, waving a hand. “I’ll help. I’m just saying we should make it interesting. You know, make people actually pay attention when we present. History doesn’t have to be boring.”

Damian studied her for a moment, clearly weighing his options. On the one hand, she was infuriatingly flippant. On the other, she wasn’t wrong about making the presentation engaging.

“Fine,” he said at last. “But we’re sticking to historical accuracy. No embellishments.”

“Deal,” Dani said, grinning. “How about we look at alliances in the American Revolution? You know, like France and America teaming up to beat the British? That’s got drama and action.”

Damian considered this, then nodded reluctantly. “That could work.”

As they began dividing up tasks, Dani couldn’t help but notice how precise Damian was. He made notes with military precision, assigning clear roles and outlining a timeline for their work.

“Man, you’re intense,” Dani remarked, watching him write. “Do you plan everything like this?”

“Of course,” Damian replied without looking up. “Planning is essential to success. It ensures there are no unnecessary variables.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Dani said, resting her chin on her hand. “Sometimes you just gotta wing it, you know? Go with the flow.”

Damian scoffed. “That kind of thinking leads to failure.”

“Or to unexpected fun,” Dani countered, her grin widening. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

The two continued their back-and-forth, their vastly different personalities clashing but also oddly complementing each other. By the time the period ended, they’d actually made decent progress on their project.

As they packed up, Dani glanced at Damian, her expression thoughtful.

“You’re not so bad, you know,” she said casually.

Damian frowned. “I’m aware.”

Dani laughed. “You’re also hilarious without meaning to be.”

Damian didn’t dignify that with a response, but as he walked away, he couldn’t help but think that working with Danielle Fenton might not be the absolute worst thing in the world. Suspicious, yes. Annoying, definitely. But maybe, just maybe, a little intriguing, too.

Chapter Text

The lunchroom at Gotham Academy buzzed with chatter and clinking trays as students filtered in, claiming tables and greeting friends. Dani, tray in hand, spotted Damian sitting at his usual table with Jon Kent. A grin spread across her face as she made a beeline toward them. Damian noticed her approach and frowned slightly, while Jon perked up, offering a welcoming smile.

“Hey, Damian!” Dani said, plopping down uninvited. “And hi to you, too, Jon!”

“Hello, Danielle,” Jon said warmly, clearly unbothered by her sudden presence except for the weird thing her heart does, I was worrying but she wasn’t showing any painful reaction.

Damian groaned softly, pushing his food around on his tray. “Why are you sitting here?”

“Because you’re my history partner, duh,” Dani replied, biting into her sandwich. “We’re supposed to bond or whatever.”

“I don’t recall that being a requirement,” Damian muttered.

“Don’t mind him,” Jon said, grinning. “He’s always grumpy.”

Dani giggled, leaning conspiratorially toward Jon. “I’ve noticed. He’s like a tiny old man in a 12-year-old’s body.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Damian deadpanned, glaring at them both.

Jon laughed, taking a bite of his apple. “So, how’s the history project going?”

“It’s actually going pretty well,” Dani said, shrugging. “We’re doing the American Revolution—France and America teaming up against the British. You know, classic underdog story.”

Jon nodded. “Sounds cool. You two working at the library after school?”

“Actually…” Dani hesitated, glancing at Damian before continuing. “I was wondering if we could work on it at your place, Damian.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Dani fidgeted slightly, a rare hint of nervousness crossing her face. “Well… my brothers and I live in an orphanage right now, and it’s… not the best place to focus. Kinda loud, and there’s not a lot of space. Plus, we’re waiting for my oldest brother, Dan, to turn 18 so we can move out together.”

Jon’s smile faltered slightly, replaced by a look of concern. “You’re in an orphanage?”

“Yeah,” Dani said casually, though her tone had a forced lightness. “It’s fine, really. Just temporary until Dan’s old enough. But I figured maybe your place would be quieter, and we could get more work done.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed, studying her closely. He didn’t trust easily, and while her explanation seemed plausible, there was something about her that didn’t add up.

“I’ll have to ask Alfred,” Damian said at last, his tone guarded. “But don’t expect me to entertain you.”

“Deal!” Dani said brightly, her grin returning full force.

Jon smiled encouragingly. “If Damian’s place doesn’t work out, you can always come to mine. My parents wouldn’t mind.”

Dani’s eyes lit up. “Really? Thanks, Jon! You’re way nicer than Mr. Grumpypants over here.”

Damian scowled. “Stop calling me that.”

The three continued their lunch, the conversation shifting to more light-hearted topics. Dani peppered Jon with questions about his life, skilfully dodging any questions that came too close to her more personal life. Damian remained quiet for most of the meal, his sharp mind cataloguing every detail about Dani. She was hiding something, and he intended to find out what.

As the lunch period ended and the three parted ways, Damian couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Danielle Fenton was far more than she seemed. For now, he’d play along—but he’d keep his guard up. And if she tried anything suspicious, he’d be ready.

After school, the trio returned to the Orphanage. It was a bustling place, filled with kids from all walks of life. While Danny and Dani tried their best to blend in, Dan kept to himself, his brooding demeanour earning him a reputation as the "scary new guy." No one dared to approach him.

At night, they gathered in the room the boys shared—a small, cramped space with two beds, which was just big enough for them to strategize in private.

"I’ve been looking through the student records," Danny whispered, pulling out a map of the school that he had 'borrowed' from the administration office earlier that day. "There’s a lot of old family wealth connected to Gotham Prep. Someone here has the ring—we just need to figure out who due to the residue that hangs around the school."

Dani flopped onto the bed, deep in thought. "You think it’s hidden in one of those old heirloom collections or something? Like some rich kid's signet ring?"

"That’s the idea," Danny replied. "But we can’t just go snooping around their houses without drawing attention. We need to play this smart."

Dan, who had been pacing the room, finally spoke up. "Or we just wait for the ring to activate. It’s bound to corrupt someone soon enough."

Danny shot him a glare. "That’s what we’re trying to prevent, Dan. If someone gets their hands on that ring and falls under its influence, we’ll be dealing with another Pariah Dark situation but with fewer ghosts and more brainwashed humans."

"Fine," Dan growled. "But I’m not playing nice forever."

“We felt the ring's presence though faint, but there are a lot of students to go through”

Danny ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his expression. "I know it’s a lot, but we have to be patient. If we act too fast or make the wrong move, we could lose our chance to find it."

Dani sat up, her legs crossed beneath her. "What about the school events? Aren’t they hosting some big charity auction next week? That might be our chance to get close to all those old heirlooms without raising suspicion."

Danny’s eyes lit up. "That’s a good idea. If the ring’s tied to an heirloom, it’s likely someone might display it there. We’ll need a solid plan without drawing too much attention."

Dan smirked, leaning against the wall. "Or we just cause a distraction and search while everyone’s in chaos."

Dani rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because that always works out great, Dan."

Danny interjected, his tone firm. "No distractions. We stick to the plan—observe, investigate, and identify the ring before it’s too late. We don’t need to tip anyone off that we’re looking for it."

Dan shrugged but didn’t argue further, though his smirk didn’t fade. "Fine. But if things go south, don’t say I didn’t warn you."

Danny ignored him and unfolded the map of the school, pointing to a section marked with red ink. "Here’s the auction venue. It’s in the old west wing. They’ve been restoring it all summer, so it’s bound to be crawling with staff and students. We’ll need disguises to blend in."

Dani tilted her head. "Do you even know what you’re looking for? I mean, the ring doesn’t exactly scream evil artefact."

"It might not, but we’ll feel it," Danny replied, his voice quieter. "The residue’s faint, but it’s there. The closer we get, the stronger it’ll feel. If we work together, we’ll pinpoint it."

Dani nodded, though her face was shadowed with doubt. "And what happens when we do find it? You think we can just take it and walk away?"

Danny hesitated, the weight of her question hanging heavily in the room. "If it’s not too late, yes. But if someone’s already… affected…" He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

Dan pushed off the wall, his demeanour turning darker. "If someone’s affected, we deal with it. Simple as that."

"No, Dan," Danny said sharply. "We’re not hurting anyone unless we absolutely have to."

The tension between them was palpable, but Dani quickly interjected. "Alright, we’ve got a week to figure this out. Let’s focus on the auction first and worry about the rest later."

Danny gave a small nod and folded up the map. "Agreed. For now, let’s keep our eyes open and gather intel. If anything feels off, we regroup immediately."

Dan turned and headed for the door. "I’ll take a walk, see if there’s anything unusual going on tonight. Don’t wait up."

As the door closed behind him, Dani sighed. "You think he’s gonna stick to the plan?"

Danny looked at the closed door, his expression unreadable. "I hope so. For everyone’s sake."

Chapter Text

Whilst Dan had left, Dani and Danny took it upon themselves to do some light work, getting ahead of homework. They still had lots to talk about when their brother got back but they understood Dan was more temperamental than most ghost they knew.

---

Dan sat at the edge of his bed, staring into the darkness. He felt trapped in a way that no ghost power could fix. He could phase through walls, but he couldn’t phase through time.

"I’m not waiting forever," Dan would say. "Once I’m 18, we’re gone."

Dan’s 18th birthday was approaching quickly. He had only a few more months until he could legally leave the orphanage and take Danny and Dani with him. By then, they hoped to have found the Ring Of Rage.

"Yeah, but we can’t just disappear," Danny would reply, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. "We still need to keep up appearances until we find the ring."

"I’m not worried about appearances," Dan grumbled. "I’m worried about power. If someone else finds the Ring of Rage first, this whole operation’s been a waste of time."

Danny, who would be sitting cross-legged on his bed trying to ease the tension of his future self. "Look, we’re doing the best we can. It’s not like we’re sitting around doing nothing."

Dan let out a low growl of frustration, raking his fingers through his hair. "Feels like we are. Every day that passes, we’re one step closer to someone else finding it. And if that happens…" He didn’t finish the sentence, but the unspoken threat hung heavy in the room.

Danny sat up straighter, his calm demeanour contrasting with Dan’s simmering anger. "If someone else finds the ring, then we deal with it. Together. That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it? To stop things before they get out of control."

Dan didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the faint lights of the city outside the window. "You don’t get it, do you?" he said finally, his voice low. "You’re still hoping for the best. But I’ve seen what happens when we fail. I’ve been what happens."

The room fell silent for a moment, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Dani, who had been curled up under her blanket pretending to sleep, finally sat up and threw a pillow at Dan.

"Enough with the brooding, okay?" she said, her voice sharp but not unkind. "We all get it. You’ve got a chip on your shoulder the size of Far Frozen, but sitting here sulking isn’t going to help us find the ring any faster."

Dan caught the pillow mid-air and tossed it back onto the bed without a word. Danny, however, gave Dani a small, grateful smile before speaking again.

"She’s right," he said. "We can’t afford to waste energy fighting each other. We’ve got a lead with this auction, and that’s more than we had yesterday. Let’s focus on that."

Dan finally turned to face his younger self, his expression hard but resigned. "Fine. But if this auction’s a bust, we do it my way next time. No more playing nice."

Danny didn’t argue, though his silence wasn’t agreement—it was strategy. He knew pushing Dan further would only make things worse. Instead, he shifted the conversation back to their plan. "We need to figure out who’s going to this thing and how we’re getting in. Dani, can you pull the guest list?"

"Already on it," she said with a smirk, holding up her laptop. "Hacked into the school’s network earlier. "Tucker and Technus really taught her well. "The charity auction is invite-only but lucky for us, some of the students’ parents are on the planning committee from that I can spoof a couple of invites easily."

"Good," Danny said, nodding. "We’ll need to be careful, though. If the ring’s at this auction, whoever has it might already be under its influence. We don’t want to tip them off."

Dan leaned back against the wall; his arms crossed. "Then let’s hope they’re as clueless as the rest of this city. Otherwise, things are going to get messy."

Dani glanced between the two boys, her smirk fading into a more serious expression. "Messy or not, we’re in this together. No one’s going down alone, got it?"

Dan didn’t respond, but there was a flicker of something—gratitude, maybe—in his eyes. Danny gave her a small nod. "Got it."

“shit!”

“Language!” Both brothers responded.

Dani's face held an aspirated expression for a second before she let them know the problem. She could easily get them invitations to the event. The only problem was that all the members going were part of Gotham socialites, so their going, being new to the area and not yet established, would look very suspicious. This brought them back to square one. They would have to miss the event and build up more social fame, which would be easy if an adult lived with them. 

The room was filled with silence trying to figure ways to be more community friendly. Dani frowned when she realised what she had said. “Guys, the funeral we went to when ‘our parents’ died was for mine and Danny’s parent which means that on paper there is another parent that can take guardianship over us.”

Danny’s face also dropped at the notion as it seemed the ClockWork had sent out all the Hafla’s bar one. The only Hafla left, Vlad. Vladimir Fruit-loop Masters.

The room went silent. For a moment, all Danny could hear was the faint ticking of the clock and the muffled sounds of Gotham outside. Dan, who had been leaning against the wall with his usual brooding expression, stood up straighter, his fists clenching at his sides.

"You can’t be serious," Dan growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Vlad? That manipulative, egotistical vampire wannabe? Do you think we’re gonna let him take guardianship over us? That I would allow it."

Dani cringed, her gaze darting between her two brothers. "I’m not saying it’s a good idea, but… legally, he’s the only option we’ve got. If we want to blend in, and get into events like the auctions, charity balls and galas, we need an adult backing us. And he’s the only ‘parent’ left on paper."

Danny rubbed his temples, his face a mix of disbelief and frustration. "Dani, do you realize what you’re saying? Vlad isn’t just a bad option—he’s dangerous. He’d use this situation to manipulate us, control us, and probably try to twist it into some scheme to get me back on his side. That’s what he always does."

"I know!" Dani shot back, her voice rising. "But do you have a better plan? Because unless ClockWork decides to drop a miracle into our laps, we’re running out of options."

Dan scoffed, pacing the small room. "I’d rather fight my way into that auction than let Vlad sink his claws into this. There’s no way I’m putting myself under his thumb, even for a second."

Danny hesitated, his mind racing. He hated the idea just as much as his siblings, but Dani wasn’t wrong. Without a legitimate adult to vouch for them, their ability to infiltrate Gotham’s elite circles was next to impossible. And Vlad… well, as much as he despised the man, Vlad did have the wealth, influence, and social standing they needed.

"It’s risky," Danny admitted, his voice quieter now. "But Dani’s right—we’re out of options. If Vlad’s around, we’ll need to contact him eventually. Better to do it on our terms than let him show up unexpectedly."

Dan stopped pacing; his glare fixed on Danny. "You’re really considering this? After everything he’s done to us?"

"I’m not saying we trust him," Danny replied firmly. "We’d have to set boundaries, keep him in check, and make sure he doesn’t get too involved. But if he can get us access to what we need… it might be worth the risk."

Dani folded her arms, a hint of guilt in her expression. "I know this sucks, but if anyone knows how to handle Vlad, it’s us. We’ve dealt with him before, and we can do it again. We just have to stay one step ahead of him."

Dan didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue further, either. Instead, he muttered something under his breath and turned toward the window, his frustration evident in the way his shoulders tensed.

"So, what’s the plan?" Dani asked cautiously.

Danny sighed, sitting back on the bed. "We’ll need to figure out where Vlad is first. If he’s in Gotham or nearby, we’ll reach out to him. But we’re keeping this strictly business—no letting him worm his way into anything else."

"And if he tries?" Dan asked, his voice cold.

Danny’s eyes hardened. "Then we remind him who he’s dealing with."

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their decision settling over them like a storm cloud. They all knew the risks of involving Vlad, but with the Ring of Rage still out there, they couldn’t afford to waste time. This wasn’t just about them anymore—it was about stopping a disaster before it began.

Finally, Dani broke the silence with a weak smile. "Well, at least that’ll be fun. You know, in a 'trying not to get manipulated by a supervillain' kind of way."

Dan let out a dry chuckle, though there was no humour in it. "Yeah. Fun."

Danny didn’t respond, his mind already racing through possible contingencies. Clockwork’s timing was rarely coincidental. If Vlad was coming or already here, it meant things were about to get a lot more complicated—and a lot more dangerous.

Chapter Text

Sometime During Summer

A low hum of machinery permeated the dimly lit basement of LexCorp; the air was charged with the faint green glow from a swirling portal. The vortex crackled as it spat out a tall, imposing figure in black.

"Ah," Vlad murmured, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve, "it seems I’ve arrived somewhere… interesting." Vlad Masters adjusted his tie with a smirk, his crimson cape fluttering slightly as the portal sealed shut behind him. Meddling he'd expected from ClockWork, but he hadn't expected to land here. Wherever here was.

It smelled of hot metal, electricity, and wealth. The bright artificial lights above reflected from the shiny floors, and the walls lined with high-tech equipment seemed to whisper that this was a facility that pulled out all the stops.

Before he could take another step, the sound of deliberate footsteps echoed through the room. Emerging from the shadows was none other than Lex Luthor himself, his crisp white suit immaculate, his expression sharp with curiosity and intrigue.

A slow, measured clap echoed through the room.

Vlad spun; his eyes locked onto a bald man clad in a suit as white as freshly fallen snow. There was curiosity etched upon his features fear. That was unusual for a human who had just witnessed an impossible portal deposit a man into space.

"Good," he said, walking closer. "Not many make it into my building undetected. Unless, of course, you work with the Justice League."

Vlad's smirk widened. "Justice League?" he repeated, cocking his head. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mister…?"

"Lex Luthor," the man said, extending a hand. "CEO of LexCorp."

Vlad arched a brow. The name meant nothing to him, this world was a place he did not yet know, but a CEO-that was an altogether different affair. Wealth. Power. Influence. He'd like the cut of this jib. And so, he extended his hand; Luthor did the same; and two cool, firm handshakes went across, never once breaking a gaze.

"And you are?" Lex promoted, his considering eyes following each of Vlad's movements.

"Vladimir Masters," Vlad replied, smoothly. "A businessman, much like yourself."

 Lex hummed brightly. "Businessmen don't generally step out of glowing green portals, Mister Masters."

 "Ah, well," Vlad chuckled, releasing his hold. "Let's just say I'm new to the area. Tell me, Mister Luthor, where exactly have I found myself?"

Lex’s eyes gleamed. An off-worlder? Or perhaps something more? Either way, he had seen the sheer energy radiating from the portal Vlad emerged from. This was no ordinary man. And if there was one thing Lex prided himself on, it was recognizing potential allies. 

"You’re in Metropolis," Lex said simply. "A city of opportunity… for those with vision."

Vlad chuckled, already getting an idea of where this would lead. "And I take it you have vision, Mister Luthor?" 

"More than most," Lex said smoothly. "In fact, I believe there's a group of like-minded individuals* who would find you very interesting. We call ourselves the Legion of Doom." 

Vlad raised a brow. "Doom? Sounds dramatic."

Lex grinned. "It's a working name. But given your… entrance, I think you'd fit in quite well. What do you say?"

Vlad took a moment, rolling it over in his mind. This was not his world, and without his usual resources, he needed to get a foothold quickly. And what better way than through powerful connections? If this "Legion of Doom" was what he suspected—a gathering of powerful individuals seeking control—then perhaps he could use them to his advantage. Not to mention it would annoy Danny.

His smirk was back, a plan was forming. If he played his cards right, the Legion of Doom could be a powerful tool in his quest for dominance and maybe even a means to secure the elusive Ring of Rage.

"Tell me more, Mister Luthor."

Chapter Text

Vlad Masters was nothing if not adaptable. He had built an empire in one world, and he could do it again in another. His priority in this new reality was securing financial stability—power, after all, often started with wealth.

Working alongside Lex Luthor proved both enlightening and convenient. Vlad quickly learned that this world’s technology was both ahead and behind in strange ways. With his knowledge of ghost tech and energy manipulation, he used his skills to develop a small startup specializing in alternative energy solutions.

Utilizing his ectoplasmic expertise, Vlad founded Phantom Dynamics, a research and development firm dedicated to "breakthrough energy applications." Of course, he made sure to present it as just another clean energy initiative to the public, disguising its true potential. The prototypes he developed were far beyond anything this world had seen—compact, efficient, and highly marketable.

It didn’t take long for Lex to take notice.

"This is promising work, Masters," Lex said, overlooking the proposal Vlad had handed him from behind his massive desk. "A self-sustaining energy grid based on an unstable but renewable power source. Clever. A bit too clever."

Vlad smirked, perfectly aware of what Lex was implying. "Oh, come now, Mister Luthor. I wouldn’t dream of keeping secrets from a business partner."

Lex’s calculating eyes studied him for a moment before he leaned back in his chair. "I’m sure you wouldn’t."

The negotiations were swift, and just as planned, LexCorp acquired Phantom Dynamics for a hefty sum. It was exactly what Vlad needed—a legitimate cash flow, a clean record in this world, and the financial backing to move forward with his real plans.

With Lex’s money lining his pockets, Vlad turned his sights to Gotham City. Unlike Metropolis, which was ruled by science and industry, Gotham had something far more interesting: mystery, corruption, and most importantly, a power vacuum in the shadows.

It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect estate—a secluded, lavish mansion in the upper districts of Gotham. The previous owner had mysteriously "relocated," leaving the property vacant. With his new identity legally established, Vlad settled in, using his wealth to integrate himself into Gotham’s social circles quietly.

From his new home, Vlad kept a close eye on two things. First, the city’s criminal underbelly. Gotham’s power struggles fascinated him—mob bosses, masked vigilantes, and whatever Lex’s so-called "Legion of Doom" was planning. He had no intention of being a mere follower, but learning the game was the first step to winning it. Secondly, the orphans. Specifically, three peculiar newcomers at Gotham Prep. Vlad had suspected Clockwork’s meddling the moment he arrived in this world, and if Danny was anywhere nearby, it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed.

Sitting in his study, a glass of wine in hand, Vlad allowed himself a satisfied smirk.

"This world has potential."

The real fun was only just beginning.

Vlad had always prided himself on his ability to control any situation. He had manoeuvred through boardrooms, political landscapes, and ghostly dominions with ease. But Gotham was an entirely different beast. It was a city teeming with chaos, and unlike Metropolis, where Lex ruled through corporate dominance, Gotham belonged to its shadows.

But that was precisely why Vlad liked it.

From the safety of his new estate, he worked his way into Gotham’s elite. He attended galas, made “philanthropic” donations, and carefully cultivated relationships with influential figures, including some of the more unsavoury ones. The crime lords of Gotham may not have been as refined as the corporate titans he was used to, but they understood power, and that was something Vlad could respect.

Still, as entertaining as Gotham’s twisted hierarchy was, it wasn’t his true goal.

It was only a matter of time before Vlad turned his attention to why he had been sent there.

ClockWork’s meddling was never without purpose. And that meant somewhere in this city, Danny was nearby.

It didn’t take long to find him.

The name “Daniel Fenton-Masters, along with a Danny Fenton” came up in school records—an obvious alias if Vlad had ever seen one. To make matters worse, Danny wasn’t alone. Danielle was there too, and so was someone else. Though the fact that there were two Daniels was a bit confusing.

That was when things became… interesting.

A little digging revealed their status as orphans. A little more revealed their supposed history—parents deceased, and only one relative was named. That part made Vlad pause.

Him.

If no one else had stepped forward, then the logical choice was clear.

The moment Vlad filed for custody, he expected resistance. Gotham’s bureaucratic system was as inefficient as it was corrupt, but money made things move. And Vlad had money.

But there was something he hadn’t expected.

Maddie’s death had been officially recorded.

When Vlad was presented with the documents, he felt something cold settle in his chest. He had assumed Maddie had simply never existed in this world or that she was living another life, but no. She had died.

Vlad knew he wasn’t supposed to care. He had spent years convincing himself he had moved on from her. That she had made her choice, and he had made his.

But seeing it on paper…

He set the documents aside, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

"You would have fought me on this, wouldn’t you, Maddie?" he thought bitterly. "You never trusted me with Danny."

But she wasn’t here to fight him anymore.

And Danny needed a guardian.

Vlad wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

Present

The sun was beginning to set when Vlad stepped out of his car in front of the orphanage. The building itself was unimpressive—old, worn down, but still standing. Children played in the yard, their laughter echoing through the street. It was almost unsettlingly normal.

Vlad adjusted his tie, smoothing out the fabric of his expensive coat before making his way to the front doors. He would have gone inside immediately, but something made him pause.

A trio of figures were approaching.

Three teenagers dressed in Gotham Prep uniforms walk down the street toward the orphanage.

Danny. Dani. And Daniel.

Vlad froze.

Dan looked exactly like an older version of Danny—taller, broader, with the same sharp blue eyes and black hair. But the way he carried himself was wrong. Too controlled. Too calculating.

Vlad had seen that look before.

On himself.

Danny was speaking, his hands moving in animated frustration as he said something to Dani, who just rolled her eyes. Dan remained quiet; his expression unreadable.

Then, as if sensing something, Danny suddenly stopped.

His gaze snapped up, locking onto Vlad.

His entire body tensed.

Dani, noticing his reaction, followed his stare. Her face immediately twisted into something between shock and anger.

Dan, however, just narrowed his eyes.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Danny spoke.

"...You’ve got to be kidding me."

Chapter Text

The walk home from school had been uneventful, which in Gotham was a miracle. The three of them had fallen into an easy routine—Dani complaining about homework, Danny making half-hearted attempts to be responsible, and Dan silently judging them both.

But as they neared the orphanage, the atmosphere shifted.

Danny felt it first—a cold, creeping sensation that sent every nerve in his body on high alert. His steps slowed, and his eyes darted toward the front of the building.

There, standing just outside the orphanage doors, was him.

Vladimir Masters.

Dani nearly bumped into Danny when he stopped abruptly. "Hey, what—?" She followed his gaze and instantly went rigid.

Dan, who had been trailing behind them, exhaled sharply. "Well. That’s new."

Vlad looked out of place in front of the orphanage—his pristine suit, his polished shoes, his entire existence screamed of wealth and power. But more than that, his presence here didn’t make sense.

Danny’s heart pounded in his chest. "Tell me I’m hallucinating."

"That depends," Dan muttered. "Are we all seeing him?"

Dani groaned. "Yep. Definitely him. Great. Just great."

Vlad, for his part, didn’t move. He just watched them, his expression unreadable.

Danny clenched his fists. Why was he here? How did he even find us?

Then, Vlad smiled. It wasn’t smug or condescending—it was something worse. Calculated.

"Daniel, Danielle, Daniel," he greeted smoothly, his voice far too pleased with itself. "It’s good to see you all looking well."

Dani scowled. "What do you want, Melonhead?"

Danny didn’t say anything. He was still trying to process it.

Dan, however, crossed his arms. "What are you doing here, Vlad?" His voice was low, cautious.

Vlad’s eyes flicked to him, scanning him carefully, as if trying to piece together exactly who he was looking at.

Then he sighed. "Honestly? I’m here to pick you up."

Dead silence.

Danny blinked. "Pick us up?"

"Legally, of course," Vlad continued as if this was the most normal thing in the world. "Since you’ve all been so careful about staying under the radar, I assume you have checked your own records. As far as this world is concerned, I’m your only surviving relative."

Danny felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him.

Dan’s eyes darkened. "No."

Vlad clasped his hands behind his back, completely unfazed. "Oh, but yes." His gaze flickered toward Danny. "Legally, you belong to me now."

Danny’s stomach twisted. "No. No way. There’s no way they would let you—"

"—Oh, but they have," Vlad cut in smoothly. "And as of today, I am your new legal guardian."

Dani groaned loudly. "This is the worst timeline."

Dan exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Unbelievable."

Danny, meanwhile, just stared at Vlad, heart pounding.

At that moment, he realised something terrifying.

Vlad wasn’t lying.

The meeting room inside the orphanage was cramped, outdated, and smelled faintly of old paper. The fluorescent lighting buzzed overhead, casting a dull glow over the four occupants sitting around the table.

Danny, Dani, and Dan sat on one side, stiff and tense, while Vlad sat across from them, looking as calm and composed as ever. He looked entirely too comfortable as if he hadn’t just upended their lives. A social worker, a tired-looking woman in her late forties, shuffled through a stack of paperwork, occasionally glancing at Vlad as if she couldn’t quite believe this man was adopting kids.

"Alright, Mr. Masters," she said finally, pushing a set of documents toward him. "This is the last of the paperwork. Once you sign these, custody will officially transfer to you."

Vlad took the pen with his usual practised elegance, barely glancing at the documents before smoothly signing his name.

Danny watched in silent horror as the final signature was completed. That was it. Done. Sealed.

Vlad set the pen down and looked up at them with a small, satisfied smile. "Well then, I believe that settles it."

Dani slumped back in her chair, looking seconds away from bolting. "This is actually happening. I can’t believe this."

Dan glared at Vlad as if he was two seconds away from destroying the paperwork with his bare hands. "You do realize this changes nothing," he said, voice low and controlled. "You may have legal custody, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to listen to you."

Dan sat motionless; his face carefully blank. But his eyes… they were sharp, watching Vlad like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.

Vlad, meanwhile, gave a small, satisfied smile.

Vlad chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to. At least, not immediately." He leaned back slightly, fingers steepled. "But do try to be reasonable, my dear children. You’ll find that I am far more accommodating than you might expect."

Danny’s stomach churned. "We’re not your kids, Vlad."

Vlad’s expression didn’t waver. "Nevertheless, legally, you are now my responsibility. And as such-" He stood up, straightening his jacket. "You should go pack your things. We’ll be leaving shortly."

Danny clenched his fists. "Where?"

Vlad smirked. "To your new home, of course."

Vlad leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "Now, now, no need to look so miserable," he chided smoothly. "I’ve arranged for all of you to have your own rooms, plenty of space, and, of course, resources far beyond what you had here." His eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "You should consider yourselves lucky."

Danny shot him a glare. "I don’t feel lucky."

Vlad just chuckled. "Give it time."

Dani groaned, dropping her head onto the table. "I hate this."

Dan exhaled sharply, glaring daggers at Vlad before standing up. "This isn’t over."

"Oh, I do hope not," Vlad said pleasantly. "That would be terribly boring."

Danny exchanged glances with his siblings before finally pushing his chair back and standing.

"This is a disaster," he muttered under his breath.

Dani sighed. "Come on. Let’s just get this over with."

With heavy steps, the three of them left the room, heading upstairs to pack their things.

And just like that, they belonged to Vlad Masters.

Chapter Text

The car ride was silent.

Vlad had, of course, spared no expense on transportation. The sleek black limousine cut through Gotham’s streets like a shadow, the interior lined with soft leather seats and dim ambient lighting.

It was all too much, too clean, too controlled.

Danny, Dani, and Dan sat across from Vlad, none of them particularly eager to start a conversation. Ellie had pressed herself into the corner, arms crossed, scowling at the tinted window like it had personally offended her. Dan sat stiffly, arms resting on his knees, gaze locked forward, unreadable as ever. Danny, for his part, just glared at Vlad, waiting for him to start whatever spiel he had planned.

And, of course, Vlad did not disappoint.

"Now that we’re officially a family," Vlad began, his voice dripping with mock warmth, "there are a few expectations I have for you all while under my care."

"Care… Right." Dan scoffed.

Vlad ignored him. "First and foremost—no reckless ghost activity." His gaze flickered between them, sharp and unwavering. "That means no unnecessary fights, no drawing attention to yourselves, and no using your abilities in public unless I explicitly allow it."

Danny narrowed his eyes. "And why should we listen to you?"

Vlad sighed as if he were explaining something to a particularly slow child. "Because, dear boy, Gotham is not Amity Park. There are far bigger players here, and the last thing we need is for any of you to attract the wrong kind of attention."

Dani huffed. "Oh, you mean your kind of attention?"

Vlad smirked. "Precisely."

Danny gritted his teeth, but Vlad pressed on.

"Secondly," he continued, "you will behave as model students at Gotham Prep. Your grades will remain excellent, your reputation flawless, and under no circumstances will you embarrass me. Understood?"

Dan’s expression darkened. "You think we care about our reputation?"

"I think you should," Vlad countered smoothly. "Because like it or not, you are now associated with me. And that comes with expectations."

Danny exhaled sharply through his nose. He hated it. Hated how neatly Vlad had trapped them, how he had turned their situation into one where they had to play along, at least for now.

"You’ll be attending Gotham Prep’s charity auction later this week. “Vlad said.

Dani straightened. "What?"

Vlad’s smirk widened. "Ah, I see that got your attention."

Danny felt an uneasy weight settle in his gut. "Why?"

"Because," Vlad said, leaning back in his seat, "it’s the perfect opportunity for you three to integrate yourselves into Gotham’s elite." His eyes glinted with amusement. "And besides… we’re looking for a ring, aren’t we?"

Danny stiffened. So that’s what this was about. Fingers curled into fists. "You know about the Ring of Rage." It wasn’t a question.

Vlad chuckled. "Oh, please, Daniel. Give me some credit." He adjusted his cufflinks, feigning disinterest. "Magic artefacts, especially ones tied to ghostly energy, are of particular interest to me. And if the Ring of Rage is anywhere in Gotham, the charity auction will be an excellent place to start looking."

Danny’s mind raced. That was why Vlad wanted them there—not just to play pretend as his perfect little wards, but because he knew they were searching for the ring.

Dani groaned, slumping further into her seat. "Great. Just great."

Vlad merely smiled. "So, I expect all of you to be on your best behaviour. I’ve already arranged for proper attire, and I suggest you make use of it." His expression darkened slightly. "We wouldn’t want to make a poor impression, now, would we?"

Danny’s jaw tightened.

Dan rolled his eyes. "You really think we’re just going to play along?"

Vlad’s smirk didn’t waver. "Oh, I don’t think—I know."

The car slowed as they approached the gates of a massive estate, dark iron bars parting as the limousine rolled onto the long, winding driveway. The house itself was a mansion, modern yet imposing, its sheer size making the orphanage look like a shoebox in comparison. Though it had nothing on Vlads' actual castle.

Adjusting his tie, watching their reactions with amusement. "Welcome home, my dear children."

Danny’s stomach twisted.

They had been led up a grand staircase to a long corridor, where three separate rooms awaited them. Each was lavishly decorated, complete with large beds, expensive furniture, and windows that overlooked the sprawling estate grounds.

Dani whistled lowly as she stepped into her room, dropping her duffel bag on the plush bed. "Wow. Almost makes me forget we’re basically prisoners here."

Dan, standing in the doorway to his own room, grunted. "A gilded cage is still a cage."

Danny said nothing, gripping the strap of his bag tightly. His own room was just as extravagant, though unlike his siblings, Danny's room was personalised. Painted blue with stars on the ceiling, reminding him of space, books on this universe and a cabinet of games. But he couldn’t bring himself to appreciate it. Something about being here—under Vlad’s roof—made his skin crawl.

They unpacked in tense silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The weight of their new situation pressed heavily on them, suffocating them.

And just when they thought they could get a moment to breathe—

A voice echoed over the house’s intercom.

"Dinner is served. Please make your way to the dining hall."

Danny groaned. "Of course, he has an intercom."

The dining hall was just as ridiculous as the rest of the house. A long table stretched across the room, lined with expensive chairs and a ridiculous chandelier hanging above it.

Vlad sat at the head of the table, swirling a glass of wine in one hand while watching them approach with a smug expression. "Ah, there you are! I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost."

Danny forced himself to sit, Dani plopping down next to him, and Dan taking the seat on the farthest end.

The table was already set with far too much food—gourmet dishes, steaming plates of perfectly prepared meals, and fancy silverware that definitely didn’t belong in a house with three teenagers.

Dani blinked at the sheer amount of food. "Are we expecting guests or something?"

Vlad chuckled. "Oh, no, dear. I simply believe in dining with quality in mind."

Dan scoffed, stabbing a piece of steak with unnecessary force. "This feels like a waste."

Vlad merely smiled. "Consider it an upgrade from the orphanage meals."

Danny bristled. "We did just fine without you."

Vlad raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? Is that why you three were stuck in that dreary little home, scrounging for a way into Gotham’s upper class?" He took a slow sip of his wine, eyes gleaming. "Face it, Daniel. You need me."

Danny clenched his jaw. He wanted to argue, to say something, but he couldn’t deny that, in a twisted way, Vlad was right. They needed an in. They needed resources.

Dani, sensing the tension, grumbled. "Can we just eat without the creepy mind games?"

Vlad smirked but gestured toward the food. "By all means, enjoy."

For a while, they ate in silence, though Dani was the only one who looked like she was actually enjoying the meal. Dan kept his movements stiff, calculating. Danny pushed his food around his plate, his appetite soured by the constant feeling of being manipulated.

Vlad finally broke the silence. "I trust you’ll all be prepared for the auction later this week."

Danny frowned. "You’re really set on this whole ‘perfect little family’ act, huh?"

"It’s not an act, Daniel," Vlad said smoothly. "It’s an opportunity."

"For whom?" Dan asked, raising an eyebrow. "You?"

Vlad chuckled. "For all of us." He leaned forward, resting his chin on his steepled fingers. "You want the Ring of Rage. I want to ensure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. Our goals align, do they not?"

Danny gritted his teeth. "For now."

Vlad smiled knowingly. "Then we have nothing to worry about, do we?"

Danny didn’t answer.

Because deep down, he knew that this was only the beginning of whatever game Vlad was playing.

The tension at the dinner table had barely settled when Vlad turned his sharp gaze toward Dan. The older halfa had been studying him all night, but now his curiosity finally boiled over.

"Now," Vlad said, swirling his wine glass absently. "I must admit, there’s something quite peculiar about you, young man."

Dan didn’t look up from his plate. "Yeah? Don’t care."

Vlad smirked. "Oh, but I do." He tapped his fingers against the table, eyes narrowing. "I can feel my own ectoplasm within you. And yet, I don’t recall ever creating you. Unless…" His gaze flicked toward Danny. "Are you hiding a clone from their rightful creator, Daniel?"

Danny stiffened. "What?! No!" The topic of clones was still very raw for him; watching himself die had changed him in a way.

Dan froze.

Then, slowly, he lifted his head, his red eyes burning with cold fury.

"A clone?" he repeated, voice dangerously low.

Vlad raised a brow. "Well, what else could you be?" The smug look on his face showed that it was clear that he was baiting the boy.

The air crackled as Dan shot to his feet, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. His fists were clenched, trembling with barely contained rage.

"I AM NOT SOME FAILED EXPERIMENT!" he roared, voice shaking the very walls.

Before anyone could react, he grabbed the edge of the massive dining table and—with inhuman strength—flipped it over, sending plates, glasses, and expensive food crashing to the floor.

Dani yelped, leaping back. Danny’s chair nearly toppled as he jumped to his feet. Vlad, to his credit, barely flinched—though his smirk had vanished.

Dan’s breathing was ragged, his shoulders tense with barely restrained fury.

"I AM NOT SOME CHEAP COPY!" he snarled, fangs bared. "I’M ME! AND I DON’T ANSWER TO YOU!"

With that, he stormed out of the room, his heavy boots pounding against the marble floors.

A second later—

SLAM!

The entire mansion seemed to shake as Dan’s door was slammed so hard the walls trembled.

For a long moment, silence hung heavy in the ruined dining room.

Then, Dani muttered, "Well. That went well."

Danny groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You just had to poke the bear, huh, Fruitloop?"

Vlad, who had saved his wine glass from the wreckage, took a slow sip before exhaling. "Interesting." His lips curled into an intrigued smirk. "Very interesting, indeed."

Chapter Text

The sound of Dan’s door slamming still echoed through the mansion, leaving behind a suffocating silence in the ruined dining hall.

Dani’s fists were clenched at her sides, her expression unusually serious. "You really had to go there, huh?" she muttered.

Vlad sighed dramatically, dabbing a napkin against his lips as if he weren’t sitting in the middle of a disaster zone. "Oh, please, I was merely making an observation—"

"An observation?!" Dani snapped, eyes flashing. "You basically called him a failed experiment!"

Vlad arched an eyebrow. "I never said the word 'failed'—"

"Like that makes it any better!" she shot back. "He already has enough issues without you picking at his identity!"

Danny nodded sharply. "You just had to push, didn’t you? Couldn’t help yourself, could you?" His voice was rising, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You always have to poke and pry—you can’t just let things be!"

"I simply prefer to know what I’m dealing with, Daniel," Vlad said smoothly. "I don’t appreciate unknown variables—"

"Oh, give me a break!" Danny barked, slamming a hand on the table. "It’s not about ‘unknown variables,’ it’s about control! You need to control everything—everyone! You just can’t stand not having all the pieces lined up perfectly!"

Vlad’s expression darkened, and for the first time that evening, his voice lost its usual air of amusement. "If you think I’m going to let you all run around unchecked while I take responsibility for you, you’re mistaken."

Dani scoffed bitterly, shoving away from the table. "Whatever, I’m done with this conversation."

"Dani—" Danny started, but she was already storming toward the staircase.

"I’m going to bed," she called over her shoulder. "Wake me up when Vlad learns how to talk to people like they’re human and not just—projects to study."

A door slammed somewhere upstairs.

Danny glared at Vlad. "Nice job. You’ve managed to piss off both of them in record time."

"Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Daniel," Vlad muttered, rubbing his temples. "They’ll recover. I was merely asking questions."

"No," Danny shot back, voice ice-cold. "You were digging. Like you always do. You never know when to back off, do you?"

"I refuse to apologize for wanting to understand the people I now have to take care of," Vlad replied evenly, his tone deceptively calm. "You three are my responsibility now, whether you like it or not."

Danny’s fists clenched at his sides. "We don’t need you to take care of us. We’ve survived without you; we can keep doing it."

Vlad stood slowly, placing his hands on the table. "Survival is not the same as living, Daniel." His piercing gaze locked onto Danny’s. "And whether you like it or not, you are under my roof now. You will learn to accept that."

Danny’s breath was shallow, his hands trembling with barely contained frustration. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the dining hall, leaving Vlad standing alone amidst the wreckage of dinner.

Vlad exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Teenagers."

Then, he smiled to himself.

This was going to be interesting indeed.

Danny knocked softly on Dani’s door before stepping inside. The room was dimly lit by a small bedside lamp, casting a soft glow over the neatly made bed, except for the lump under the blankets.

With a small sigh, he walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress. "Dani?"

There was silence for a moment. Then, a muffled voice muttered, "Go away."

Danny frowned. "Not happening."

The lump shifted, and a moment later, Dani peeked out from under the covers, her blue eyes puffy and red.

Danny leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms.

Dani hesitated before slowly sitting up, pulling her knees to her chest. "...Do you think I’m just a failed experiment?" she asked quietly.

Danny’s heart clenched. "Dani—"

"No, really," she cut him off, her voice wavering. "Vlad created me. I wasn’t supposed to exist. I mean, I wasn’t even stable at first—I was literally falling apart. If you and Frostbite hadn’t helped me...” She trailed off, swallowing hard. "Maybe…maybe I’m just... some cheap copy of you."

Danny reached over and took her hand, his grip cold and steady. "Don’t ever say that again."

She blinked at him.

"I loved you the moment I saw you," Danny continued, his voice firm. "Not because you were ‘another me,’ but because you were you. My core recognized you the second it felt your ectoplasm—like family, like you were always meant to be a part of my life. You’re my sister, Dani. Nothing nobody says can ever change that."

Dani’s lip trembled. "Danny..."

He pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. "You’re not a failed experiment, you hear me? You belong here. You belong with us, and Dan wasn’t talking about you when he said those words."

Dani buried her face in his shoulder, sniffling. "...Thanks, Danny."

For the rest of the night, they just talked—about little things. About the weirdest ghost fights they’d been in. About which Gotham snacks were the best. They laughed, reminisced, and for the first time that day, Dani felt safe.

Dan lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

The walls in the mansion weren’t thin, but with enhanced hearing, he could pick up Danny and Dani’s conversation.

Every laugh. Every reassurance. Every promise.

And every single one of them was for her.

His jaw clenched.

Danny had claimed Dani the moment he saw her. Had loved her instantly. Had accepted her completely.

But Dan?

He was the one Danny had fought against. The one Danny had locked away. The one Danny had never wanted to exist in the first place.

Dani would always come first.

She was his sister.

Dan was just… something else.

A mistake.

His fists curled into the sheets.

Danny said he didn’t believe in failed experiments.

Then why did Dan always feel like one?

Chapter Text

The next morning, the mansion was quiet as the three got ready for school.

Dani, still feeling the warmth of last night’s conversation with Danny, was unusually cheerful. She hummed to herself as she pulled on her school blazer, adjusting it in the mirror. Danny was moving at his usual sluggish morning pace.

Dan, however, was silent.

He didn’t make any sarcastic remarks. He didn’t complain about the uniform. He didn’t even scowl at Vlad when the older halfa passed by to remind them about the school auction later that week.

He just... got ready. In complete silence.

Danny noticed almost immediately. “You good?” he asked as he tried to tie his tie.

“Fine,” Dan muttered.

Danny frowned. “You sure? You’re never this quiet—”

“I said I’m fine.” Dan’s tone was sharp, but not angry. Just... closed off.

Danny and Dani exchanged glances.

Dani elbowed him lightly. “You’re not still mad about last night, are you?” she asked cautiously.

Dan barely reacted. “It doesn’t matter.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “Of course it matters—”

“Drop it, Danny.”

There was something off in Dan’s tone. Not his usual simmering rage, not his usual frustration—just something hollow.

Danny felt an uncomfortable knot twist in his stomach.

Dan never acted like this.

Before he could push further, Vlad called out from downstairs. “You three had best hurry. You will not be late on my watch!”

Danny hesitated, but Dani just sighed. “Fine, whatever. But you better snap out of this funk, dude. I don’t want to deal with emo-Dan all day.”

Dan didn’t respond.

As they left for school, Danny kept a careful eye on him.

Something was wrong.

The halls of Gotham Prep buzzed with the usual chaos: echoing footsteps, lockers slamming shut, and the overlapping murmur of dozens of conversations.

Dani fit right in, laughing at a joke one of her classmates told as she slid into her usual seat. She lived for the social interactions. She didn’t think she could go back to hiding her existence. Having friends, being around Danny—it made her core burn in a good way, much like travelling did.

Damian and Jon were always good targets for conversation. Danny still hadn’t figured out that three Batkids plus a Superson went to their school.

It was cute how Damian was prodding her about their life before Gotham and the news about their adoption, which wasn’t even out yet. Though Jon was making a good attempt at being the nice cop, it made her want to engage in the game.

Danny was enjoying school for once—no ghosts, no Observers, and no trouble. School was so easy once you could attend. He hadn’t missed a period since he started, which was a miracle. Though he’d have to figure out what had put Dan in a bad mood, he figured it was mostly about their chat yesterday.

With Dan, you could never know.

Dan hadn’t shown up for first period. Or second.

When lunch came around, Danny scanned the courtyard but didn’t spot him near their usual table. That was unusual—Dan never missed lunch.

“Where is he?” Danny asked, craning his neck.

Before he could respond, Tim approached from the path leading out of the main building. He looked concerned.

“Hey,” Tim greeted. “Have either of you seen Dan?”

Danny blinked. “You’re looking for him?” From what he’d seen, Dan was near-hostile towards the two—though maybe that was his default setting towards new people.

“He usually walks with us after class,” Duke said, frowning. “But today? Nothing. Didn’t even show up to Art, and he lives for carving terrifying things out of clay.” For all his hostile energy, Duke was surprised at how delicate Daniel—Dan—could be when it came to art. His works were on the worrying side, but still masterful.

Danny scratched his neck, unease prickling down his spine. “He’s probably just... clearing his head or something.”

“Did something happen?” Tim asked.

Danny paused. “Nah. Just settling in at home. New guardian, new rules—he’s not a fan.”
Danny berated himself for the pause, failing to make it sound less suspicious.

Tim didn’t look convinced but nodded. “Alright. If you see him, tell him we were asking.”

They left, and Danny sighed. “Okay. Something’s definitely wrong.”

Meanwhile, Dan sat alone in a quiet corner of the school’s back garden—an area most students avoided because it was always slightly overgrown and ugly. It had been left that way since one of Poison Ivy’s attacks. They’d tried to clear the area, but nothing seemed to work.

It hurt to think about Danny. In his timeline, the female clone never existed. Danny didn’t need to think or care about her. But here, he saw the way Danny watched her—ever protective. The same way Phantom called out for Danny.

Dan forgot, at times, that he was and wasn’t Danny. Danny was good and selfless. He put his all into protecting, like the guardian spirit he was.

Dan was made for Danny’s greed and misery, created to be freed from a burden.

Dan was made from Phantom’s rage, rejection, and revenge. Vlad had built the machine, so it was his mistake to endure.

The emotion of two powerful ghosts who longed for the same boy. Danny was Dan’s beginning and his end.

Some days, Dan wanted to cage the boy—to make him feel the same pain, the same rejection. Other days, he wanted to bathe in his warmth and love. Phantom loved Danny, and Phantom had made Dan.

Dan wanted to believe those words could apply to him too—but they didn’t. Dani had been accepted instantly. Loved. Defended. But Dan? He was the one Danny had once tried to destroy. He wasn’t a sister. He wasn’t a hero. He was a mistake no one had asked for.

And the worst part?

He knew he’d never say it out loud. Because if he did... he wasn’t sure what Danny’s answer would be.

Danny was good and kind, but ultimately truthful.

So, for now, silence was better. At least in the quiet, he didn’t have to hear what he already feared.

That in Danny’s eyes...

He’d always come second.

And second place? It was just another way to say not enough.

He hated this. Ghosts were made from emotion, and his emotions were irrational. He had never cared before.

It was all due to that sewer zombie putting thoughts into his head.

Chapter Text

That evening, the siblings returned home under a Gotham sky painted in dull greys and violet shadows. The air was thick with summer heat and something else, unspoken tension.

The walk up to the front door was silent. Dani chatted a little, commenting on Damien’s strange attempt to bond over weapon specs and how she might start writing a journal just to keep up with the weirdness of her life. Danny gave her tired chuckles, but his eyes kept drifting to Dan’s hunched shoulders and heavy steps.

Vlad was already waiting in the foyer, standing with the stiff poise of a man unused to sharing his space.

“You’re late,” he said simply.

“We’re not,” Dani replied, brushing past him. “We’re just… fashionably delayed.”

Dan didn’t acknowledge him.

Vlad’s crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the boy march straight up the stairs without a word. His boots thudded against the wood like war drums, his energy a storm of static in the air.

Vlad glanced at Danny. “Still brooding, I see.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Danny muttered.

Vlad didn’t reply—just turned and walked toward the dining room.

Dinner was awkward.

Danny sat with his chin in his hand, picking at his food. Vlad, ever the composed host, was finishing his wine while reading over something on a datapad. Dani scrolled on her phone under the table, occasionally glancing up with a frown.

Dan’s seat was empty.

“Where’s your clone?” Vlad asked casually.

Danny winced. “You mean Dan.”

Vlad arched a brow. “Very well. Where is Dan?”

“Not hungry,” Danny muttered.

“That’s no excuse. Especially not with his metabolism.”

Dani pushed her plate aside. “Maybe don’t refer to him like he’s some broken science project. That might help.”

Vlad placed his fork down. “I did not say he was broken.”

“You didn’t have to,” Dani snapped, her voice rising. “He can feel your judgment. He’s not like me—he doesn’t hide it well when people make him feel unwanted.”

“He wasn’t supposed to exist!” Vlad barked, the word slipping before he could stop himself. “Neither of you were!”

Silence.

Dani stood, shaking. “Well, guess what? We do.”

She stormed from the table, disappearing up the stairs. The slam of her bedroom door echoed seconds later.

Danny stood slowly. “You keep doing this,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “They are not blueprints, Vlad. They were not ghosts in a lab flask. You made him, and now you want to act like he’s inconvenient?”

Danny pushed back from the table, his appetite gone.

“I’m going to find him.”

“I wouldn’t recommend wandering around Gotham after dark,” Vlad said mildly, still not looking up.

“I’m not wandering,” Danny replied sharply. “I’m looking for my sister and brother.”

That earned a flicker of a reaction from Vlad. He lowered his glass slowly and raised an eyebrow.

“Brother?” Vlad said nothing, but the silence that followed was heavier than before.

Danny turned and left, not slamming the door only because he was holding onto the last scrap of his self-control.

He found Dani under the covers again, sniffling softly.

“Hey,” he whispered, slipping into the room.

She peeked out. “I hate him.”

“I know.”

“Do you think…” she swallowed, “do you think I’d still exist if he could undo it all?”

Danny sat beside her, pulling her into a side hug. “I’m not undoing anything. Not you. Not Dan.”

Her breathing steadied a bit as she nestled into his side. “Thanks…”

They sat like that for a while, talking about stupid things, how weird Gotham’s sewer system was and what kind of pizza was superior. Just something anything, to make her smile again.

Outside, the rain had picked up, and the streets shimmered under the orange glow of streetlamps. Danny took to the air, invisible, scanning rooftops and alleys.

He found Dan where he half-expected to—on top of Gotham Theatre, legs dangling over the edge, rain soaking through his clothes as if he didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Danny landed softly behind him.

“You’re going to catch ghost flu sitting out here,” he said quietly.

Dan didn’t look up. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Not really,” Danny replied, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. “Kinda been worried about you all day.”

Dan gave a hollow laugh. “That’s new.”

“Not really,” Danny said again. “I’ve always worried. Even when I hated you. Even when I didn’t know how to talk to you.”

Dan stayed silent, but his shoulders tensed.

“I get that you’re not okay,” Danny continued. “And I get that you don’t want to talk about it. But shutting us out won’t help.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Dan muttered.

Danny dropped to sit beside him, ignoring the wet surface. “Try me.”

Dan was quiet for a long time. The rain filled the silence between them like static. Then, quietly, barely louder than the wind, he said:

“I don’t know who I am.”

Danny turned to look at him, confused.

“In my time, everything was... simple. I was the mistake. The monster. I didn’t have to pretend to be anything else.” Dan’s voice was flat. “Now there’s Dani. She fits in. She’s loved. She belongs. And me? I’m just the shadow of something you wanted to forget.”

“That’s not true.”

Dan’s laugh was short and bitter. “Isn’t it? She gets to be the bright, happy version. And me? I’m a reminder of everything you hate about yourself.”

Danny frowned, his heart twisting. “Dan... you’re not a shadow. You’re not just some ghost of a bad decision. You’re you. And yeah, it’s messy and complicated and sometimes terrifying—but that doesn’t mean you’re nothing.”

Dan didn’t reply.

“Look, I can’t change what happened. I can’t erase what you went through. But you don’t have to go through it alone anymore. I’m here. Dani’s here. Hell, even Tim and Duke were asking about you.”

Dan blinked, finally glancing over. “They were?”

“Yeah. You missed Art class. Apparently, you’re famous for your nightmare clay monsters.”

A ghost of a smirk tugged at Dan’s lips. It didn’t last, but it was something.

Danny stood, rain dripping from his hair and jacket. He held out a hand.

“Come home.”

Dan stared at the hand for a long moment—like he was afraid it would disappear if he reached for it.

Then, slowly, he took it.

Back at the mansion, Dani was waiting at the front door, arms crossed, hair tied up with a scrunchie that glowed faintly pink.

She looked at Dan. “You look like a half-drowned rat.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Nice to see you too.”

“Next time you decide to have a dramatic rooftop sulk, at least text someone. We’ve got trauma, not telepathy.”

Danny smiled faintly as Dan walked past her and into the warmth of the mansion. Dani hesitated a moment, then followed, brushing against Danny’s arm.

“You think he’ll be alright?” she asked quietly.

Danny glanced down the hall where Dan disappeared into the shadows of the corridor. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But he’s trying. And that’s something.”

Chapter Text

The ballroom gleamed.

Golden chandeliers shimmered overhead, casting flickers of light on the polished marble floors. The Gotham elite floated across the room in elegant suits and floor-length gowns, like a court of predators dressed for a masquerade. Glittering jewellery, veiled gazes, and laughter far too sharp.

The Wayne Foundation was sponsoring the event, of course. A charity auction for educational equity. Dani called it “rich people buying redemption points,” thought it was just weird how many Batkids were in one room, and no one seemed to notice. By 'no one,' she meant Danny.

Vlad was already speaking with a board member near the stage, mask perfectly in place, public smile, charming posture. His crimson tie shimmered faintly when it caught the light, The very picture of a successful businessman who had made a name for himself.

He’s so stiff you could fry eggs on him,” Dani whispered.

Danny chuckled.

Dan, in stark contrast, stood stiffly in his form-fitting tuxedo, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. His hair was still damp from a too-rushed shower, and he hadn't said a word in the limo ride over.

“Deep breaths,” Danny said under his breath. “It’s just a party.”

Dan’s hands clenched at his sides.

If they made it through the night without inciting a fight, it would be a miracle.

They made their rounds.

Dani schmoozed like a natural, flashing her winning smile, dropping practiced anecdotes, and subtly poking holes in people’s egos with a tilt of her head or a too-honest compliment. She even managed to make Damien crack a grin.

Danny stuck close to the punch table. Not because he liked punch (he didn’t), but because he wanted to disappear, he would rather play tag with Grundy than go to any event with the fruitloop.

Dan drifted.

He didn’t speak to anyone unless spoken to, and even then, it was short answers, tight shoulders. But he didn’t leave. He didn’t lash out. He just endured. Eyes scanning every room like he expected a trap behind the curtain.

When Tim found him, it was with a wary sort of kindness.

“You alright?”

Dan shrugged.

“You clean up well,” Tim offered, sipping from a wine glass filled with something fizzy and neon orange.

Dan grunted. “I look like a penguin that lost a fight.”

Tim smirked. “A fashionable one.”

Duke joined them. “Hey. We’re betting on how long until something explodes. Wanna guess?”

Dan glanced at him, the smallest edge of a grin tugging his mouth. “Two hours.”

Duke gave him a nod of approval. “That’s the spirit.”

Tim leaned in. “You staying for the auction?”

Dan looked over at the raised stage, where Vlad was now shaking hands with someone who looked like they auctioned off stolen diamonds in their spare time.

“Apparently,” Dan said. “New family rules.”

Tim nodded slowly. “That’s rough.”

Dan didn’t respond, but he didn’t walk away either.

Later, as the siblings stood together near the side of the ballroom, Dani leaned against Danny’s shoulder and whispered, “He’s trying.”

Danny looked over at Dan, who was now in an intense whisper-conversation with Tim and Duke. Dan’s eye twitched violently, but he was talking, not yelling.

“He is,” Danny said quietly.

Vlad rejoined them then, nodding curtly as if to say, ‘You didn’t burn the place down, good.’ He gave them each a once-over. “You comported yourselves decently.”

Dani raised a brow. “You trying to say we were elegant and socially appropriate?”

“I’m saying you didn’t set anything on fire,” Vlad deadpanned.

Danny grinned. “High praise.” Danny flinched when Vlad’s hand landed on his shoulder, a reflex, too fast to hide. Vlad didn’t comment. Neither did Dani.

A soft chime rang through the ballroom, followed by a polite but firm voice over the speakers: “The charity auction will commence shortly. Guests, please proceed to the auditorium.”

Vlad turned toward them, fixing his cufflinks with deliberate precision. “Come,” he said, like they were ducklings, and he was the world's most well-groomed shepherd. “It’s time.”

Dani rolled her eyes but followed. Danny stuffed his hands in his pockets and muttered something about “capitalism theatre.” Dan didn’t say anything at all, just moved like a storm cloud reluctantly pulled by gravity.

They filed through the arched entryway into the auditorium, wood-panelled walls, velvet-lined seats, and enough gold trim to make a Bond villain blush. Ushers in black gloves directed guests to their designated rows with the polite efficiency of trained butlers.

Vlad’s hand swept out, guiding them toward their assigned seats near the front. “Remember pleasant smiles.”

“I make no promises,” Dani whispered, mostly to herself.

They settled in. Danny sat in the middle, sandwiched between Dani and Dan, who looked like he was calculating the escape routes based on structural weak points. Vlad sat at the aisle with the posture of a man who wanted the cameras to find him.

In the row directly in front of them sat Bruce Wayne.

Perfectly composed. Perfectly groomed. Dressed in a tailored black tux that probably cost more than their school tuition combined. He was alone for now, probably waiting for the rest of his kids to come. Back straight, gaze forward, giving the faint impression of someone who was always waiting for something more important to happen.

Dani grinned. “Bet you a tenner he bids on something ridiculous just to make a point.”

Danny shook his head. “Bet he wins it with a single nod.”

The lights dimmed. The stage lit up. A woman in a sequin blazer stepped to the podium and flashed a dazzling smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight. Let’s begin.”

Chapter Text

The day began with a briefing in the Cave at 4:00 a.m.

A weapons shipment had passed through Gotham’s port the night before, not the usual Falcone-run crates, but something new. Clean paperwork under a subsidiary that Vladimir Masters had acquired six months ago. Nothing definitive yet, but enough to log into the files. Enough to keep an eye on him.

Then came the mask.

Not the cowl. The other one. The harder one.

Brucie Wayne: Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist. Harmless.

Alfred had his tux pressed by morning, cufflinks glinting like quiet warnings. “You’ll be seated in front of Mr. Masters,” Alfred had said, neutral as ever. “And his wards.”

Wards. Bruce had almost corrected him. children, perhaps. Hostages of proximity. It was still unclear what exactly Masters wanted with them; Daniel, Danielle and Danny. All three had the unmistakable signature of trauma, like finely cut glass. Carefully held together. Looking at their history, it was all clear: Bruce had even gone to the length of subtly integrating witnesses at the funeral. There was no sign of mind control or any other dark practice, which had placated Damien for a while. Though Bruce suspected his son’s obsession had less to do with suspicion and more to do with the girl. He’d seen the hidden pinboard. Even found a labelled sketch.

And then there was the paperwork. Legal custody went to Vladimir, yet the children had been temporarily placed in an orphanage following the incident. Odd. Contradictory. The kind of bureaucratic fracture that usually signalled something human and messy, a custody dispute, perhaps. Divorce drama. Brucie Wayne could spin that into idle chatter at the next gala, get Vlad loose-tongued over a brandy.

As for Vlad himself… Riddled with inconsistencies. Falsified financial statements, travel records with entire days missing, and far too much time spent with Lex Luthor for anyone’s peace of mind.

Perhaps it was time to suggest a more direct approach. A playdate. A sleepover. The Masters estate was just down the street, within emergency extraction range. An invitation to “bond the kids” could be enough to plant eyes on the inside without raising alarms.

By mid-afternoon, Bruce had met with Lucius, reviewed three grant proposals, and denied a WE tech department partnership that stank of offshore laundering. He played golf with the mayor’s aide, badly, and deliberately lost two holes so the man could win by one stroke.

He arrived at the charity auction five minutes before the scheduled time.

Not early. Not late. Just enough time to remind Gotham’s elite that he could glide in without ever showing a wingbeat.

The ballroom glittered with gold. Crystal chandeliers. Silver cutlery. Champagne that costs more than most people’s rent. The sort of crowd that toasted themselves while the Narrows burned.

Bruce smiled back at them. Mask tight.

He clocked Vlad the moment he entered, radiating polish and charm, perfectly cast in his role. But it wasn’t Vlad that drew Bruce’s gaze.

It was the three behind him.

Danny was smaller than expected. Sharper. A lean frame under stiff shoulders, eyes like searchlights, clever and careful. Danielle practically sparkled in her gown, all charm and calculated innocence, her smile sweet with just enough bite. She looked like Martha Wayne. Bruce remembered the old photos. It threw him off for a moment. Both she and Danny looked like his mother. Which, uncomfortably, made them look like him. People had always said Bruce resembled his mother.

If he hadn’t seen their birth certificates himself, he might’ve wondered.

And Daniel… Daniel walked like he was one inconvenience away from breaking someone’s jaw. Rigid, quiet, coiled. Watching everyone, but never directly. Never obviously.

At 8:30, he took his seat, and he felt them settle behind him. Didn’t look. Didn’t need to.

They whispered, soft enough to be polite, loud enough for him to hear.

“That’s him, right?”

A pause. Then: “Bet you a tenner he bids on something ridiculous just to make a point.”

“Bet he wins it with a single nod.”

Bruce allowed himself the smallest smirk. A private gesture. Meant for no one else. He still didn’t turn.

The auctioneer stepped onto the stage, camera flashes popping like sparks, laughter curling through the air like cigarette smoke.

Bruce Wayne crossed one leg over the other. Adjusted his cufflink. Sat back.

Mask in place. Expression mild. Eyes sharper than anyone realised.

All that was missing were his children. Tim and Duke should have joined him by now. He checked his watch.

Late.

A touch concerning.

He lifted his gaze slightly, just enough to scan the far end of the room without seeming to. Nothing yet. Perhaps they’d gotten caught by the press or held up by security. Nothing urgent. Not yet.

Still.

Behind him, the Masters children leaned in to whisper again.

Bruce listened. Not because he didn’t trust them.

But because he never stopped listening.

Chapter Text

The auctioneer’s voice rolled through the auditorium like a lullaby for the wealthy.

“Item forty-two—sold for eighty-seven thousand pounds. Thank you, Mr Lytton.”

Polite applause. A smattering of thin smiles. Crystal glasses clinked softly in the dimmed light.

Dani leaned sideways toward Danny, half-lidded eyes and a sigh held tight in her chest. “If one more person says ‘for the children’ while bidding on a diamond-encrusted yacht, I’m setting something on fire.”

Danny snorted, shifting in his seat. “You and me both.”

Dan sat stiffly at the end of the row, arms crossed, gaze flicking over the crowd like he was preparing for a breach. He hadn’t said a word since they sat down.

“Item forty-three,” the auctioneer called, “a handcrafted silverware set from the Wayne family vaults.”

Sold—ninety-two thousand.

“Item forty-four, an original sketchbook from Gotham’s own Ethel B. Nighting.”

Sold—one-point-four million. Another round of brittle applause.

Danny fidgeted in his tuxedo. The fabric scratched at his collar, unfamiliar and far too tight. “This thing itches.”

“You look fine,” Dani murmured, casually raising her phone and snapping a picture of the stage. “Try not to vibrate through your chair.”

Danny rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Dan remained motionless beside them, eyes pinned to the stage, carved from focus.

Down the row, Bruce Wayne sat with studied ease, legs crossed, a slight smile playing across his lips as he murmured something to the mayor. The kind of man who never needed to speak loudly to be heard. Danny barely noticed him, not if Ellie hadn’t pointed out to him. Just another polished mask in a sea of them.

“And now, item forty-five.”

The lights dipped. A single spotlight bloomed over the velvet-draped pedestal.

“A platinum ring of unknown origin,” the auctioneer announced, his tone rehearsed but curious. “Recovered from the Hargrave estate. Set with an engraved red gemstone. Starting bid—thirty thousand.”

The box opened.

Danny inhaled sharply.

There it was. A flicker in his chest. A pulse in the air. A static hum curling along his spine. Ghost energy.

Next to him, Dani tensed. “Danny—”

“I feel it,” he whispered.

Dan’s voice cut through the air, low and sure. “That’s it.”

Danny’s eyes flicked to the stage. “The Ring of Rage?”

Dan nodded once. “No question.”

The ring sat innocently in its case—blood-red, metal catching the light in brief, vicious glints. Jagged runes curled along the band, wrong in a way that made the eye want to look away.

Danny’s fingers clenched the armrest. “We need to get that ring.”

“Thirty-five thousand,” someone called out.

“Forty.”

“Sixty.”

The bids rose steadily, voices smooth and bored. It could’ve been a painting. A bottle of wine. Nothing about their tone suggested they understood what they were bidding for.

Danny’s jaw tightened. “How are we meant to outbid Gotham’s entire trust fund club?”

Then, without fanfare, Bruce Wayne lifted his paddle.

“One million,” he said, tone mild.

Danny blinked. “Wait, what—?”

Dani’s brow arched. “Well. That track.”

Dan didn’t move. But he was listening.

Danny leaned over slightly. “Why’s he bidding on it?”

Dani’s voice was barely audible. “Because he’s Batman.”

Danny froze. “I’m sorry—what?”

“Later,” Dan muttered.

Another voice joined the fray.

“Two million.”

Smooth. Confident. Vlad.

Danny’s stomach turned. He hadn’t even seen the man raise his hand. Vlad sat with perfect calm, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Like this was a performance, and he already knew the final act.

Bruce didn’t react. No frown. No shift. Just lifted his paddle again.

“Two-point-five.”

The crowd murmured. Someone nearby gasped. The tension didn’t so much rise as condense, thick and warm and suffocating

Chapter Text

Danny was about to die again.

Not literally. Not yet. But that was the feeling.

Vlad and Bruce Wayne, who had to be some sort of fruitloop, because no sane person spent their nights dressed in spandex pretending to be a bat unless they were either unhinged or very committed to the furry scene, were locked in a bidding war for the Ring of Rage.

Any other day, Danny would’ve been praying for Vlad’s downfall, cackling even, but tonight? Tonight he found himself hoping the man actually won. Because the alternative was Bruce Wayne, Batman, walking away with it. And that wasn’t a scenario Danny was ready to unpack.

“Three million,” Vlad said smoothly, fingers steepled, smile sharp as a knife.

The auctioneer nearly tripped over his own tongue in delight. “Three million! Going once—”

Danny leaned forward in his seat, pulse pounding. “He’s not going to counter?”

Dani glanced past Bruce, who sat unnervingly still. Paddle lowered. Face carved in polite disinterest.

“Going twice—”

Bruce’s phone vibrated against his cuff. He shifted slightly, eyes flicking down. Just enough for Danny to catch the edge of something beneath the mask, focus narrowing, gaze tightening. Whatever message he read, it pulled him away from the stage entirely.

Danny caught a whisper, so quiet it could’ve been mistaken for a thought. Tim. Duke. Riddler.

And then—

“Sold! Three million to Mr Masters!” The gavel fell with theatrical finality. The applause was immediate, brittle and too-loud, like glass shattering. Vlad inclined his head graciously, as though acquiring cursed artefacts was the most natural thing in the world.

Danny’s stomach dropped. “Oh, that’s bad.”

Dan’s arms crossed tighter, jaw rigid. “That’s catastrophic.”

The lights went out.

A collective gasp swept through the auditorium. Champagne glasses clinked and shattered in the dark. Voices rose, sharp with confusion.

Then the stage lights flared, emerald and jagged.

The auctioneer was gone. In his place stood the Riddler, bowler hat tilted, cane raised like a conductor’s baton.

“Good evening, Gotham’s glittering fools!” His voice cut through the chaos with theatrical precision. “Did you really think you could enjoy your little charity auction without a puzzle or two?”

Gasps. Shouts. Security scrambled uselessly at the edges of the room.

Danny pressed back into his chair, muttering under his breath. “Yep. Definitely about to die again.”

Vlad’s smile didn’t waver. Bruce Wayne, for his part, didn’t move either, still the picture of idle wealth, though Danny was close enough to feel the shift in the air around him.

Batman was already calculating.

And the Ring of Rage had just become the second-most dangerous thing in the room