It was already a dark night the other day. Barbara was climbing the side steps of a building in Old Gotham. In fact, one that faced the one she and her father lived in. He must have just gotten home from work, it was the end of a 48-hour cycle of constant service, he was getting ready to finally sleep. Barbara wore a black jacket with leggings, and to top it off, a mask that Dick was kind enough to arrange, a makeshift bat mask, of course. Although she found the ears a little too much, it did the job of hiding Barbara's identity and getting the attention of a certain someone.

She cocked the broom handle she'd found in one of the trash drums in a position that looked like a sniper, and got into position, just waiting. She could see her father in the window on the other side. He looked very tired, he was looking for something in the fridge the moment she started her vigil, wondering what the workday had been like. Sometimes, she didn't stop to think about the kind of routine her father had. What were the jobs and challenges of an important police chief, what trials he had to face that he didn't tell her about. She remembered days when he'd come home looking grim, days when he'd seen things he refused to share with his family for the way it had affected him.

Life in that city was never easy, for anyone who had ever lived there. The news always reported some violent crime or some kind of robbery. Children's programs were followed by urgent shifts talking about executions in public schools, not even children were spared from this reality, whether at home or in schools. Barbara liked to think that it molded character in some way, that it made people's strength and personality more defined and rigid, but the truth is that it only causes suffering and anguish and anger. It was in the midst of these wandering thoughts that she suddenly saw a figure on top of the building of her house.

It was pretty quick, but it caught her attention. She tried to focus her vision to identify something, until… It was too fast, a bat came flying towards her and hit her broomstick. Well, that's what she realized initially, until she saw the result soon after. The "bat" was some kind of weapon that stuck close to her face, slicing the broomstick in half, one of the pieces fell down the building. The momentary shock gave way to doubt, that was… A kind of blade. A blade shaped like a bat, with an odd curvature, would that be a boomerang? Her thoughts didn't have time to adjust as a heavy, dark voice came from behind her.

- You're not a hired assassin… — It sounded calm and devastating at the same time.

- You… — Barbara turned to face the tall and imposing black figure, a dark cloak covering his entire body, a black mask hiding the entire face of a being with white eyes and bat ears. She was out of breath, and whispered — Batman…!

- What are you doing, girl? Get out of here.

- I always wanted to meet you.

- I said get out, you're in danger — His voice was demanding, but it had a clear tone of concern.

- No no, you don't understand...

- Now! — He turned to go, but stopped mid-footsteps when he heard what Barbara said.

- I was the one who put that ad on the Dark Web! Yeah… It was me, I needed to do that.

- Why…? — Batman turned to face her.

- To talk to you, of course — She pointed to the mask, and he finally noticed how she was dressed — It's really good to know you're real...

- You're playing a very dangerous game, girl, you have no idea.

- Oh, but I do, Batman. I need to warn you of something, a problem...

- I do not accept missions from civilians.

- It's a real problem! People can die! The police won't believe me, I need you! — He remained silent, eyes half-closed — There is some sort of terrorist in the Clock Tower, he plans an attack on the Stagg Industries shipping route, but there's a lot more involved than I know, there's some nefarious planning that's going to affect the whole city. You need to investigate and stop him, I don't know the name but I know the codename: Clock King.

- I picked up reports of explosives being smuggled into the Clock Tower a few days ago. I can assure you that I didn't find anything but dismantled clockworks there. You should go home and let me handle these things, creating speculations on top of my previous appearances is not healthy or safe for you. — Batman replied resolutely.

- But it's true! I saw him, I monitored the activities and communications, for God's sake he almost killed me!

- Organized crime activities in abandoned facilities are common.

- You need to believe me! — She stood up, trying to get closer to the vigilante.

- Do. Not. Approach. You are just a child, go home, there must be someone who needs and cares about you.

- But…

Batman jumped off the building, on the opposite edge of Barbara's. She ran to see the watcher in action, but he was gone for the night. Barbara was devastated, she didn't know what to do, Batman didn't believe her words, the police alone wouldn't believe it, let alone handle the situation by themselves. She returned to the Academy feeling defeated, what could she do now? What options would she have to face a terrorist alone. Gotham's fate hung in the balance, and only Barbara Gordon II knew it, but she was helpless to do something. Or that's what she thought until that moment. She approached the strange boomerang that Batman had left behind. There was something more human than supernatural about that figure… If Gotham's silent protector was more man than bat, then she might as well make a difference.

Maybe Barbara Gordon was everything Gotham needed, maybe, and just maybe, she had everything she needed to defeat the Clock King. After all, she was the one who infiltrated the Tower, she was the one who located Batman and she was the one who had the courage and determination to go after it all alone. If there's one thing she learned living in that city, and watching her hero act, it's that persistence and determination can help people do wonders. And maybe that was her moment to shine, maybe… It was Barbara's moment to discover who she really is, no father, no mother, no friends, just her.