Bat snatched

The rooftops of Gotham were unusually quiet that night — too quiet, even for Batgirl’s liking. From her vantage point above the waterfront, she could see the pattern of lights shifting below, streetlamps flickering off one by one as if swallowed by the dark. Her instincts kicked in before her mind caught up; this wasn’t a blackout — it was a setup. Out of the fog moved shapes that didn’t belong to Gotham’s usual street scum — armored silhouettes, formation tight, weapons sleek and silent. Their movements were military-precise, their discipline unmistakable. When she dropped to street level, the silence was absolute. The figures emerged in full now — matte-black armor with no insignia. “Batgirl of Gotham,” their leader’s voice came through a modulator, steady and cold, “you’ve been operating in restricted territory.”