Chapter 20

The week passed in a blur of progress and reflection. Tom's days were filled with a steady routine, each one bringing him closer to recovery and a sense of normalcy within the Watchtower.

Kaelith's guidance in his magical training continued in earnest. In the vast expanse of his mind, they worked on refining his control, honing his focus, and expanding his understanding of the mystical energy he now wielded. Her methods were demanding but patient, pushing him to grasp the intricacies of magic while reminding him to trust his instincts. By the end of the week, Tom felt a growing confidence in his abilities, though he knew there was still much to learn.

The Watchtower remained a hub of activity, and more League members stopped by to check in on him. Some came out of genuine concern, while others were driven by curiosity about the young man who had not only survived the Light's torment but had also played a pivotal role in rescuing Roy Harper. Each visit added another layer of connection, helping Tom feel less like an outsider.

Roy Harper visited again, this time looking slightly stronger. The haunted look in his eyes hadn't disappeared, but there was a flicker of determination behind it—a man trying to reclaim his life after years of loss. Their interaction was brief but meaningful, and while Roy's walls were still high, there was an unspoken camaraderie between the two of them, forged through shared struggles.

Alfred Pennyworth's visit stood out as a moment of quiet but profound kindness. The Wayne family's butler arrived unannounced, his demeanor as composed and impeccable as ever. He brought tea and small sandwiches, along with a calming presence that made Tom feel cared for in a way he hadn't realized he needed. Alfred's ability to listen without judgment left a lasting impression, reminding Tom that even the League's most powerful members relied on the quiet strength of those who supported them.

Therapy sessions remained a constant, each one peeling back another layer of Tom's experiences. Dr. Hartwell's steady guidance helped him navigate the lingering trauma of his captivity and the daunting task of building a new life. While progress was slow and not without setbacks, Tom felt himself beginning to understand his pain rather than letting it define him.

Physical evaluations became a regular part of his schedule as well, the medical staff meticulously tracking his recovery. By the end of the week, the results were clear: his body had healed. Scars remained, a testament to what he had endured, but his strength had returned, his injuries now nothing more than faint aches.

As the week closed, Tom found himself reflecting on how far he'd come. From the broken boy who had been rescued from the Light's grip to someone standing on the cusp of something.

The next day arrived with a mix of anticipation and nerves. Tom stood beside Batman on the Watchtower's teleportation platform, his hands tucked into his pockets to keep them from fidgeting. Kaelith's presence lingered in his mind, steady and reassuring, though she had opted to remain hidden for now.

The hum of the teleportation system grew louder, and before Tom could think of another reason to be nervous, the world around him shimmered and shifted. A moment later, he was standing in the cavernous space of the Team's headquarters—Mount Justice.

The familiar rock walls, sleek technology, and glowing monitors surrounded him, and it felt surreal to see it in person. This was the place he'd only read about in comics and seen on screens, and now he was here.

Batman's voice cut through his thoughts, calm and authoritative. "This is Mount Justice, the Team's base of operations. You'll be working alongside them as you continue your training and integration. Follow me."

Tom nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he followed the Dark Knight through the halls. Kaelith's warmth flickered in his mind, a quiet presence that steadied his nerves.

"Relax, Tom. You've got this," she murmured. "These are your peers now. They're not that different from you."

"Easy for you to say," Tom thought back, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

They entered the main room, where the Team was gathered. The holographic table at the center of the space cast a soft glow, and the chatter in the room quieted as they noticed Batman's arrival.

Nightwing stood near the table, his posture confident but relaxed. He raised an eyebrow as he spotted Tom, a faint smirk forming. "Batman, I take it this is the new recruit?"

Batman nodded, stepping aside slightly to allow Tom to step forward. "This is Thomas Martin. He'll be training with you and contributing his unique skills to the Team. I expect you to help him adjust and ensure he integrates smoothly."

Tom glanced around, taking in the faces of the Team. Blue Beetle gave him a quick nod, his expression friendly, while Superboy's arms remained crossed, his gaze unreadable but not unfriendly. Miss Martian floated slightly above the ground, her smile warm and inviting.

"Uh, hi," Tom said, raising a hand in an awkward wave. "Nice to meet you all."

Before anyone could respond, Impulse zipped forward, his usual enthusiasm on full display. "Hey, new guy! Nice to meet you, man! So, what's your thing? You got super strength? Speed? Oh, oh, are you secretly a shape-shifter? Also—whoa, sick scars!"

Tom's smile faltered as he winced, instinctively touching at the edge of one of the bigger scars on his face.

"Impulse!" Nightwing's voice was sharp, cutting through the room. "Not cool."

Impulse blinked, his grin fading as he realized his mistake. "Oh, man, sorry! I didn't mean it like that, I swear."

Miss Martian floated closer, her expression gentle but firm. "Bart, think before you speak. Scars aren't something to point out like that."

Impulse scratched the back of his head, looking genuinely apologetic. "Right, yeah, got it. My bad, Tom."

Tom gave a small, hesitant nod, trying to push past the moment. "It's fine," he said quietly, though Kaelith's warmth flickered in his mind, offering silent reassurance.

Blue Beetle chimed in next, his tone lighter but careful. "So, what's your skillset? Batman doesn't bring someone here unless they've got something to offer."

Before Tom could answer, Kaelith's voice flickered in his mind. "Should I?"

"Go for it," Tom thought back with a grin.

A faint shimmer of light and shadow appeared beside Tom, coalescing into Kaelith's elegant non-human form. The room fell silent as the Team's attention snapped to her, curiosity and caution in equal measure.

Kaelith inclined her head slightly, her tone calm but with a playful edge. "I'm Kaelith"

Superboy raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, his expression skeptical but not dismissive. Miss Martian's curiosity was evident, though she seemed more intrigued than alarmed.

Nightwing, ever the tactician, crossed his arms. "Well, that's new. So, you're part of the package?"

Kaelith smiled faintly. "You could say that. Tom and I are a team, just as you are. And I assure you, I'm here to contribute."

Impulse, clearly eager to move on from his earlier misstep, grinned. "Okay, I'll admit—that's pretty crash!"

Tom couldn't help but laugh at the reaction, feeling some of the tension ease. "Yeah, magic's kind of our thing. I've been working on it for a while now."

Nightwing nodded, his sharp gaze assessing Tom but not unkind. "Good. The Team can always use more versatility. Welcome aboard, Tom—and Kaelith."

Tom stood in the center of the Team's base, his introduction to the group gradually shifting into easy conversation. Though the tension from earlier lingered faintly, he felt himself starting to relax as the members of the Team spoke with him, each offering their own unique energy to the room. Kaelith remained close, her calm presence helping to ground him in the moment.

Nightwing, standing by the central table, clapped his hands lightly to get everyone's attention. "Alright, now that the introductions are out of the way, we've got a tradition to uphold."

Tom tilted his head slightly, glancing around. "Tradition?"

Nightwing smirked, his sharp blue eyes studying Tom with both warmth and calculation. "It's customary for new members to spar with one of us when they join. It's not about winning or losing—it's about seeing what you're capable of and figuring out where you fit best on the Team. Think of it as your audition."

Tom blinked, a mixture of excitement and nerves bubbling up in his chest. He'd sparred with Kaelith plenty of times in his mental training, Helping him use his magic more naturally but this was different. This was the real deal.

Kaelith's voice flickered in his mind, her tone wry. "Well, this should be interesting."

Nightwing, noticing the slight hesitation in Tom's expression, softened his tone. "Hey, no pressure. This isn't something we're forcing you to do. If you're not up for it, that's completely fine. We want you to be comfortable."

Tom hesitated, glancing at Kaelith, whose presence flickered warmly in his mind. She gave him a small, reassuring nod, her voice a quiet anchor. "You've got this. They're just curious."

Straightening slightly, Tom let out a breath, his nerves easing under the combined encouragement. "No, I'm good. Let's do it." He managed a faint grin, adding, "But don't expect much! I'm not much of a fighter."

Superboy crossed his arms, his gaze sharp and appraising as it locked on Tom. "We need to see what you can actually do. Batman wouldn't have brought you here unless you had something to offer. This is the easiest way for us to find out what that is."

Blue Beetle leaned against the wall, his tone friendly but curious. "And, just to be clear, it's nothing personal. We're all just as curious about what you and Kaelith bring to the table."

Miss Martian floated closer, her kind smile helping to diffuse any lingering tension. "Don't worry, Tom. It's not meant to be intimidating. We just want to understand your skills so we can work together better. No pressure, really."

Nightwing nodded, his posture relaxed but attentive. "Exactly. Think of it as a learning experience—for all of us." He turned his gaze back to the group, the faintest of smirks forming. "So, who's stepping up to spar with him?"

Impulse zipped forward, his hand shooting into the air. "Oh! Pick me! I've got the energy for it!"

Nightwing raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. "Let's maybe start with someone who won't run circles around him."

Superboy unfolded his arms, stepping forward. "I'll do it."

Tom's breath hitched slightly as he looked up at the Kryptonian clone. Superboy's imposing stature and stoic demeanor made him an intimidating figure, and the idea of sparring with someone with Superman's strength felt... daunting.

Kaelith's voice flickered again, steady and teasing. "Don't worry, Tom. If things go sideways, I'll keep you in one piece."

Nightwing nodded approvingly. "Alright, Superboy it is. Tom, this isn't about matching strength or taking him down—it's about showing us how you use your abilities. Be smart, stay focused, and do what you do best."

Tom nodded, trying to push aside his nerves. "Got it."

Nightwing motioned toward a large training room connected to the main area. "Let's head to the sparring room. Plenty of space and no risk of breaking anything important."

The Team began to file toward the room, their expressions ranging from curiosity to quiet encouragement. Tom followed, his footsteps steady despite the flutter of anticipation in his chest.

The sparring room was expansive, its polished floors and reinforced walls designed to handle the powers and skills of heroes. A few holographic displays glowed along the edges, offering analysis and feedback for training sessions.

Tom stepped into the center of the room, Superboy standing across from him. The Kryptonian's expression was unreadable, but there was no malice.

Nightwing leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. "Alright, ground rules. No lethal force, no unnecessary risks, and keep it clean. This is about skill, not destruction." He glanced between the two. "Ready?"

Tom took a deep breath, glancing at Kaelith beside him. She gave him a small nod, her presence steady and unwavering.

He turned back to Superboy, his posture firming. "Ready."

The room seemed to hum with anticipation as the sparring session began to take shape.

Miss Martian watched intently as the sparring match began, her focus entirely on Tom. The air in the room seemed to shift the moment he stepped into his stance. The nervous boy they had just met seemed to disappear, replaced by someone else.

Standing off to the side, Batman observed silently, his arms crossed, his gaze sharp. Though he said nothing, his presence was palpable—a reminder to the Team of the weight this sparring match carried. While Batman hadn't explicitly stated it, it was clear he was here to ensure the Team accepted Tom into their ranks.

Superboy wasted no time, closing the distance between them with a burst of speed. His first strike came fast and hard, a direct punch aimed at Tom's center.

Tom responded immediately. Magic shimmered along his arms, coalescing into a protective layer of light and shadow. The punch connected, but instead of sending Tom flying, it was deflected to the side with a burst of energy, throwing Superboy slightly off balance.

Miss Martian's eyes widened slightly as she leaned forward. It wasn't just the magic—there was something deliberate about Tom's movement, as though he'd trained for years.

Batman's gaze narrowed slightly, his sharp focus intensifying. He had expected Tom to rely entirely on his magic, but the precision of his movements, the way he blended his magic with physical technique, was unexpected.

Superboy recovered quickly, launching a follow-up strike aimed at Tom's ribs. Tom pivoted smoothly, the glowing energy along his arm sparking as he guided the punch past him with a practiced deflection. He immediately followed with a quick, precise counterstrike—a sharp elbow aimed at Superboy's side.

The blow landed with enough force to make the Kryptonian take a step back, more from surprise than pain.

Nightwing, standing next to Batman, tilted his head slightly. "Did you train him?"

Batman's jaw tightened slightly, his voice lower than usual. "No." There was a faint edge of surprise in his tone, though his expression remained unreadable. "He didn't mention anything about training nor did I think to ask."

Blue Beetle leaned closer to the glass separating the sparring area from the observation deck. "How does someone who uses magic know how to fight like that?"

Batman's lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze unwavering as Tom moved. "He's full of surprises."

Tom stayed in motion, his movements fluid and precise. He used Superboy's strength against him, redirecting each strike with a combination of magical barriers along his arms and expertly executed grappling techniques. His footwork was flawless, slipping out of range when necessary but always staying close enough to counter.

Kaelith's presence flickered to the group, her tone calm and almost amused. "He's more capable than he gives himself credit for."

Superboy's frustration began to show, his strikes growing faster and harder as he tried to land a solid hit. But Tom's focus never wavered. His body and magic moved as one, creating an intricate dance of defense and offense.

At one point, Superboy lunged, throwing a powerful hook aimed at Tom's jaw. Tom ducked low, his shadow flickering unnaturally as it elongated and wrapped around Superboy's extended arm, yanking him off balance. In the split second that followed, Tom spun behind him, delivering a sharp kick to the back of his knee.

Superboy stumbled but didn't fall, quickly regaining his footing. He turned, his eyes narrowing as if reassessing his opponent.

Batman's gaze remained locked on Tom, a flicker of something almost imperceptible crossing his face. Surprise? Approval? Whatever it was, it was rare for him to show it. "He's good," he murmured, mostly to himself.

Nightwing nodded beside him, his expression one of growing respect.

In the sparring room, Tom straightened slightly, his breathing steady despite the intensity of the exchange. His eyes locked on Superboy, his scars catching the light in a way that made him appear even more formidable.

The Team continued to watch in silence, their curiosity shifting into something deeper. Tom wasn't just holding his own—he was revealing layers none of them had anticipated.

Kaelith's voice flickered in Tom's mind, steady and warm. "You're doing well. Stay focused."

Tom nodded faintly, his confidence building as he settled into his stance again. Whatever happened next, he had not only the Team's attention but Batman's as well—a rare and weighty accomplishment.

Superboy circled Tom, his movements slower now, more deliberate. The initial burst of confidence from his strength had been tempered by Tom's precision and unpredictability. Tom, on the other hand, remained poised, his glowing arms a blend of shadow, faint sparks dancing along his skin as he anticipated Superboy's next move.

Batman's sharp eyes followed every movement, his arms still crossed but his expression tighter than usual. He glanced toward Nightwing, speaking low enough to avoid distracting the fight. "I had no idea he could fight like this."

Nightwing tilted his head, his own gaze fixed on the spar. "Seriously? You usually know everything about the people you bring in. How'd this slip through the cracks?"

Batman's jaw tightened slightly, his tone quieter. "I had assumed magic was his focus and that he had no martial training."

Meanwhile, the fight continued to escalate. Superboy feinted left before throwing a powerful right hook aimed at Tom's midsection. Tom didn't flinch. Instead, he stepped into the strike, deflecting it with a reinforced arm as his magic flared, absorbing and redirecting the force. In the same motion, he ducked low and swept Superboy's leg, forcing the Kryptonian to stagger backward.

Blue Beetle leaned closer to the glass, his tone laced with curiosity. "Alright, spill, Batman. Who is this guy? I mean, we knew someone new was joining, but no one said anything about where he's from or why he's here."

Miss Martian, still floating just above the floor, glanced at Batman. "Why didn't we get more information? You're usually thorough about this sort of thing."

Batman's gaze didn't waver from the sparring match. "The only details you needed were that a new member was joining. Anything else—" his tone shifted slightly, firm and final, "—you can ask him yourself."

Impulse, who had been watching the fight with wide-eyed fascination, zipped over to stand beside Blue Beetle. "Okay, but seriously, where'd he learn to do that?" He pointed at Tom as the latter used a fluid series of counters to fend off Superboy's unrelenting strikes. "That's not something you just pick up. That's, like, trained pro stuff. Did he go to some secret hero school or something?"

Batman's expression didn't change. "Ask him."

Nightwing smirked faintly. "Classic deflection, Bruce."

Tom, meanwhile, was fully in the zone. Superboy lunged again, aiming to grab him, but Tom sidestepped, planting a glowing hand against the Kryptonian's chest and sending a burst of shadowed energy outward. The force was enough to make Superboy stumble back, visibly frustrated. Tom pressed his advantage, weaving close and delivering a series of precise strikes—enough to keep Superboy off-balance but not enough to provoke an all-out retaliation.

Kaelith's voice flickered in his mind, her tone amused. "You're making an impression. Not bad for your first day."

Tom's lips twitched. "Superboy is just going easy on me."

Superboy managed to recover and launched a powerful jab, aiming straight for Tom's shoulder. This time, Tom blocked it directly, his reinforced magic crackling with energy as it absorbed the impact. The force of the blow pushed him back slightly, but he maintained his footing, his breathing steady despite the intensity of the exchange.

From the sidelines, Miss Martian glanced between the fight and Batman. "He's... different. Not just the magic. There's something else."

Batman's gaze flicked to her briefly before returning to the fight. "He's survived more than most."

Blue Beetle nodded slowly, his eyes still on Tom. "Yeah, you can see it."

The sparring match continued, Superboy's frustration growing with each missed strike and redirected blow. Tom, for his part, remained calm and collected, his movements deliberate and efficient. He wasn't fighting to win outright—he was fighting to stay in control, a strategy that was clearly throwing Superboy off his usual game.

Nightwing watched with quiet approval, his arms crossed. "He's holding his own against Superboy. That's impressive."

Batman, for the first time, allowed the faintest flicker of a nod. "Yes, it is."

As the fight pressed on, the Team's curiosity about Tom deepened, but Batman's resolve to let him speak for himself remained unshaken. Whatever questions they had, they would have to wait until Tom was ready to answer them.

Superboy lunged again, this time with a calculated feint, but Tom anticipated it, stepping just out of range and twisting his body to deliver a swift counterstrike. His glowing arm crackled with energy as he aimed it toward Superboy's shoulder, forcing the Kryptonian to retreat once more.

Tom pressed forward, his movements fluid and deliberate. With each strike and deflection, it became clear to everyone watching—Tom wasn't just holding his own; he was dictating the flow of the fight.

Superboy gritted his teeth and went in for a final charge, throwing a powerful punch aimed straight at Tom's chest. Instead of dodging, Tom braced himself, letting his magic absorb the brunt of the impact before sidestepping and sweeping Superboy's legs out from under him in one smooth motion.

Superboy hit the ground with a thud, his frustration evident as he stared up at the ceiling. Tom stood over him, his shoulders rising and falling with steady breaths, his shadow flickering unnaturally around him. For a brief moment, his hardened expression, combined with the wicked scars crossing his face, made him look every bit as intimidating as the magic swirling around him.

The Team watched in stunned silence, their expressions a mixture of awe and disbelief. Even Batman's usually impassive face showed a flicker of something—perhaps surprise, or maybe approval.

Then, just as quickly as the intimidating presence had appeared, it vanished. Tom's lips quirked into a shy smile, his body relaxing as he extended a hand toward Superboy. "Uh, good match," he said awkwardly.

Superboy blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. He reached up, letting Tom help him to his feet, only for Tom to pull him into a quick, almost clumsy hug.

The room collectively froze, the tension replaced by sheer bewilderment. Even Batman raised an eyebrow at the unexpected gesture.

"Uh, thanks, man," Superboy muttered, stiffly patting Tom on the back.

Tom suddenly realized what he'd done and stepped back, his face flushing slightly. "Oh, wow, sorry. That was... I didn't mean to—uh..." He scratched the back of his neck, his voice dropping. "You're just... you're really cool. Like, way too cool."

Superboy stared at him for a moment before a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "You're not bad yourself."

Nightwing let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Well, that's one way to make an impression."

Miss Martian's lips curved into a warm smile. "I think you've already made a few friends, Tom."

Blue Beetle leaned toward Impulse, whispering, "Okay, I did not see that coming."

Impulse grinned. "Dude's full of surprises."

Kaelith's voice flickered in Tom's mind, her tone amused. "A dramatic victory and a heartfelt hug?"

Tom sighed internally. "Please don't make this worse."

Tom stood in the center of the sparring room, still catching his breath from the match. Superboy had returned to his place among the Team, a faint smirk lingering on his face. The rest of the Team had loosened up considerably, their earlier guarded curiosity replaced with easy conversation as they began to approach him.

"Not bad," Blue Beetle said, giving Tom a thumbs-up. "I mean, I don't know how you're not flat on the floor after taking on Superboy, but seriously, impressive."

Miss Martian floated closer, her expression warm. "You really held your own. And the way you used your magic to enhance your movements—it's not something we see often. I think you'll fit in here."

Impulse zipped up beside him, grinning. "Okay, but like, how did you even learn to fight like that? Did you have a secret ninja sensei or something? Because that was seriously crash!"

Tom laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, not exactly... it's a bit of a long story."

Nightwing stepped forward, crossing his arms as he studied Tom. "We've got time. Plus, I think I'm not the only one curious about where you picked all that up. You don't move like someone who just dabbles."

Tom felt the Team's collective attention shift toward him, their curiosity palpable. Kaelith's presence flickered in his mind, her tone amused. "Looks like you're the center of attention, my friend."

Tom opened his mouth to answer, but before he could get a word out, Batman's deep voice cut through the room, commanding instant silence.

"Tom," he said, stepping forward from the sidelines. "I need to speak with you. Alone."

The room stilled, the atmosphere shifting as all eyes turned to Batman. The Team exchanged glances, their curiosity doubling.

Tom blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, yeah, sure."

Batman gestured toward the sparring room's exit, his cape sweeping behind him as he turned. Without another word, he began walking, his presence leaving no room for argument.

Tom glanced back at the Team, offering a sheepish smile. "Guess I'll catch up with you guys later."

Blue Beetle gave a mock salute. "We'll be here. Probably still trying to figure out how you didn't get pancaked."

Impulse grinned. "Don't keep us waiting too long—we've got questions!"

Tom chuckled softly before following Batman out of the room. As the door closed behind him, the quiet buzz of the sparring room faded, replaced by the faint hum of Mount Justice's corridors. Tom quickened his pace to match Batman's, his nerves rising slightly as he tried to gauge what this "talk" was about.

The walk was silent, Batman saying nothing as they moved further from the training area. Tom's mind raced with possibilities, unsure of what to expect as they continued deeper into the Watchtower.

As they reached a quieter part of Mount Justice, Batman finally stopped and turned to face Tom. The corridor was dimly lit, the faint hum of the station's systems filling the silence between them. Batman's sharp gaze locked onto Tom, his expression unreadable but clearly focused.

"It's occurred to me," Batman began, his voice low but deliberate, "that while we've talked a fair amount since you've arrived here, there are some things I don't know about you. Specifically, how you fight so well. Incredibly well." He paused, studying Tom's reaction. "And how that never came up."

Tom blinked, genuinely confused. "Wait—what?" He tilted his head, his brow furrowing. "I've been meaning to ask... why does everyone keep saying that? That I fight too well?"

Batman's stance didn't shift, but his silence was an obvious prompt for Tom to continue.

Tom hesitated, his fingers twitching slightly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "It's not like I'm some martial arts prodigy or whatever. My dad used to tell me I was a horrible fighter." He shrugged awkwardly, his eyes darting away from Batman's penetrating gaze. "Said I was too slow, too clumsy. He'd laugh about it."

Batman's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't speak, his expression hardening just enough for Tom to notice.

Tom glanced back at him, his voice quieter now. "He used to say... 'You're not built for this, Tom. You're better off running because at least you're decent at getting out of the way.'" He let out a humorless laugh.

The silence between them stretched for a moment, the weight of Tom's words lingering in the air.

Batman's voice broke through, calm but pointed. "Is he the one who taught you to fight?"

Tom looked up, his brows furrowing slightly. "Yeah. My dad taught me for as long as I can remember." He hesitated, the words catching in his throat before he continued. "But he never once gave me a compliment on it. In fact, it was the opposite. He'd pick apart everything I did—too slow, too clumsy, too predictable." He shrugged, his voice quieter now. "I could never beat him, so I guess I just assumed I couldn't fight. That I wasn't good enough."

Batman's expression didn't shift, but there was a new intensity in his gaze. "What did your father do for a living?"

Tom frowned, his confusion evident. "I don't know," he admitted. "He never told me."

Batman's jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he said nothing. His silence prompted Tom's thoughts to drift, the memories pushing forward unbidden.

Flashback

Tom sat across from Dr. Hartwell, his therapist, her calm and measured demeanor putting him at ease despite the tension in his chest. She adjusted her glasses, her pen tapping lightly against her notebook.

"Tom," she began, her tone steady but firm, "have you ever noticed how difficult it is for you to say something positive about yourself?"

Tom shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away. "I don't know... I mean, I guess I'm just not great at a lot of things."

She tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. "It's not that you're not great at things. It's that you can't see when you are. Your self-esteem has been shaped by how you were treated growing up. From what you've told me, you've internalized a belief that nothing you do is good enough—even when the evidence shows otherwise."

Tom opened his mouth to respond but stopped, his throat tightening.

Dr. Hartwell leaned forward slightly, her voice softening. "This negative self-image—it keeps you from seeing the truth about yourself. It's like a filter over everything you think or feel. And I believe it stems from your upbringing, from the way you were spoken to and treated."

End Flashback

Tom blinked, the memory fading as he returned to the present. Batman was still standing in front of him, his sharp gaze studying him carefully.

The silence felt heavy again, but this time, Tom didn't rush to fill it. He shifted on his feet, feeling strangely exposed. Batman's expression remained unreadable, though his eyes seemed to narrow slightly in thought.

Finally, Batman spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "Your father may not have acknowledged it, but your skill speaks for itself. You've been trained to fight at a level most people never reach."

Tom frowned, the words stirring something in him he wasn't sure he wanted to unpack.

Batman's gaze didn't waver, but there was a weight to his silence, as though he was considering Tom's words deeply. For all the observations Batman had made, he now realized there was more to Tom's story than what met the eye—and perhaps more to himself than Tom had yet discovered.

Batman's piercing gaze remained locked on Tom, the silence between them stretching again, but this time, it carried an air of deliberation. After a moment, Batman spoke, his voice calm but resolute.

"We're going to have a lot more conversations, Tom," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "If you're willing, I'd like to know more specifics about your upbringing. It's clear there are a lot of things you believe you can't do. I need a clear understanding of what you're capable of—and what's holding you back—if I'm going to help you."

Tom blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the statement. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He wasn't sure how he felt about the idea of sharing more, especially with someone as intense as Batman.

"I'll... think about it," Tom managed finally, his voice quiet.

Batman gave a faint nod, seeming to accept the answer for now. "Good. That's a start."

Taking a step back, Batman adjusted his cape, his presence as imposing as ever. "I'm leaving now. The Team will take it from here." He turned slightly, but before stepping away, he glanced back at Tom.

"One more thing," Batman added. "I've told the Team nothing about you—your past, your situation, or anything else. What you share with them, and when, is entirely up to you. They'll respect that."

Tom blinked, his eyes widening slightly. "Really? You didn't say anything?"

Batman's gaze remained steady. "This is your story to tell, not mine."

Tom nodded slowly, a flicker of gratitude crossing his face.

"And one last thing," Batman said, his voice even but carrying an air of finality. "You've been officially dubbed Riftwalker. That's your hero name. Get used to it."

"Riftwalker?" Tom repeated, the name sounding strange on his tongue.

"It fits," Batman said simply.

With that, he turned and strode down the corridor, his cape sweeping behind him as he disappeared into the shadows.

Tom stood there for a moment, letting the weight of Batman's words settle over him. Riftwalker. It sounded... strange, yet somehow fitting.

Kaelith's voice flickered in his mind, her tone amused. "Riftwalker. I like it. Maybe a little too on the nose."

Tom chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, let's hope I can live up to it."

He turned back toward the direction of the Team, his thoughts racing but his steps steady.