You're running through a graveyard. A graveyard filled with family mysteries that are supposed to help you find what you're looking for. You try not to think about your mother, what she put into your back. You try not to think what your mentor is doing right now. You're running, trying to clear your head.
Lightning strikes and it starts to pour. You turn to see a small mob of shadows ready to strike. Above you is a slender man in black with a top hat. His face is hidden. His accent is worse than a hokey American trying to do Shakespeare. He tells you he's here to help.
The shadows draw in closer, climbing over tombstones as they see you and the tall man as easy prey. You think about how stupid adults can be sometimes. How your brightly colored cape is a warning, not an invitation. The man in the top hat makes quick, clever work of the first round and invites you to take over the second. You bound and fly, but something inside of you has changed. Something has been replaced.
After the shadows have fallen, you turn to him. You tell him why he's a liar. You tell him his accent is fake. You try and figure out who this man is.
"Are you Bruce Wayne?" You ask, voice young and assuming. He stands there in silence, his printed on grin hidden by the black wraps around his face.