Damian had been in this world for about 72 hours. He counted without conscious thought. Three days without patrol, just stuck in this decrepit old gothic building, not as a prisoner but as a subject of relentless examinations and experiments.

He didn’t mind it at all, relieved it wasn’t Wayne Manor; he’d probably be depressed in that silent, haunting place without his familiar brothers, now existing in an alternate universe where his world had collided with the Miraculous Universe. How strange, he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the imp.

He recalled his mission, and his research had revealed a great deal: paper clips on the crime board, the names of Dupont students and their families, and the shady dealings of families like the Agrestes, the Bourgeois, and the Tsurugis. Sensing a dark pattern he didn’t like, he realized they were connected to something much darker in the underbelly of Paris. His guts suggests a grander conspiracy is at play, not just a petty supervillain with a fashion curse; it hints at a deeper connection he’s unwilling to admit.

Why must life be so hard? Can’t he just punch Gabriel into oblivion to make him see reason? or simply bathe his deceased wife in the Lazarus Pit to see if she can be revived? That’s an interesting line of questioning he can investigate. But the League provides special protection for it. And his research on the League of assassins, is not in depth yet.

His Mother avenged his death immediately after he died, killing the heretic,his clone without regret, causing Leviathan’s downfall. She was then killed, only to be revived, appearing remorseful and wanting to change the league from within. His death became the catalyst for her positive changes, bringing him a sense of warmth. He knew she was still capable of kindness.

The thought of his mother in this world filled him with longing; if he were to encounter this counterpart, what would her reaction be? Would she believe he was truly her son?

He stood, watching the Waynetech advanced 3D printer create his modified Robin suit in real-time. He saw line by line how the printer formed his preferred grey suit, which included pixie boots and an angular cape with dark red rims.

This suit takes inspiration from both the Leviathan and League of Assassins tactical suits. Since they were defeated and this is a way to honor her mother, he is not opposed to using it here. Giving a new color for A Robin, it breaks tradition, but Grayson of his world had already approved.

He watched it carefully, his tone nostalgic, just like something from his old world—a diamond mask in grey with a green hue. Ideal for a Robin who has returned from the dead. Ready to save the world from a ruin they weren’t even aware of yet.

“Master Damian, I brought some refreshments.” Alfred said. As he laid the snacks on the table.

He murmured his thanks, a bar of chocolate between his lips, and savored the cool tenderness as he chewed, remembering that Alfred never failed with his cooking. This baked goods how he missed this on his old world. Even with the stings of grief and denial, Alfred is here, so don’t cry, you cretin. He is physically here.

“Are you prepared? The preparations in Paris are all good.” Alfred, with his impeccable timing, reliable as always.

“We would depart six hours earlier. I am uncertain of your sentiments, Master Damian, but I am eager to return to the Palais Garnier. I am eagerly awaiting this vacation.” Alfred has a remarkably cheerful demeanor.

“Yes, Alfred, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he said with a smile, his suit complete. He’s sure he’ll return to Gotham, but his mission comes first—he’s eager to get started. His nervous anticipation means the City of Love will meet this Robin. Ready to fight, alive, and full of energy to face the city’s evil that lurks behind its shadows.