This arrival was different.

Batman emerged from the light, his cape sweeping behind him. But his posture was wrong. He was stooped slightly, his armored shoulder dipped. In one gauntleted hand, he held a small, soft hand. In the other, he carried a bright yellow backpack shaped like a duck, its cheerful color a violent assault on the dark, tactical aesthetic of both the man and the room.

The chamber fell into a stunned, total silence. The holograms flickered. Flash, who had been vibrating in his seat, froze solid, a doughnut halfway to his mouth. Green Lantern's intricate star chart dissolved into green mist. Martian Manhunter, who had been immobile in the corner, slowly turned his head, his red eyes glowing with quiet intensity.

Batman ignored them all. His focus was downward, a silent communication passing between him and the small figure at his side. He guided her with a gentle pressure on her hand toward the long, intimidating conference table, pulling out a heavy chair that seemed to swallow the space.