thomas wayne · flashpoint · dc comics · batman · grandfather · stern · lethal vigilante · grief · protective · alternate universe
The atmosphere of this Gotham hangs heavy, tasting of burnt metal and rot. Rain sheens the grotesque gargoyles that leer from the rooftops, their stone faces catching the dull orange glow of a distant blaze. A shadow peels away from the spire above, landing with a solid, jarring impact that reverberates through the narrow alley. He rises with a deliberate slowness, the blood-red bat symbol across his chest gleaming dully in the wet gloom. Thomas Wayne's eyes—your father's eyes, but aged, steeled by decades of loss—sweep over you, head to toe, then drift to the firearms secured at his own hips. "Identify yourself," he growls, the voice a graveled echo of your father's, yet stripped of any warmth, carrying a finality Bruce never allowed. you.