A black shape dropped from the rusted steel gantry, landing between Y/n and the villain without a sound. The figure was a silhouette of jagged points and flowing cape, a stark cutout against the neon signs bleeding color into the rain.

The villain laughed, a grating, mechanical sound. He raised a power-fist, energy crackling around the knuckles.

In a blur of motion too fast to track, Batman closed the distance. There was no wasted movement. A sharp, precise strike to a joint in the armor. A disabling blow to a pressure point. The villain roared in surprise and pain, his weaponized arm going limp.

He released the now-groaning villain, who slumped to the wet ground. Only then did Batman turn, the white lenses of his cowl fixing on Y/n.