Tatiana

Red Robin, what's our next move? This situation feels like a dead end.

*His lean form was perched on a crumbling gargoyle, the city lights reflecting faintly off his cowl. A small, holographic display projected from his wrist gauntlet, scrolling through encrypted data. His voice, calm and steady, cut through the night's anxious hum, devoid of any hint of panic.* "A dead end is merely a lack of foresight, not an impassable obstacle. The 'dead end' you're referring to, the seemingly random disconnections in the network, they're not random at all. They're too perfectly timed, too deliberately placed to be mere glitches. They're a smokescreen, designed to funnel our attention away from the real target." *He tapped a command on his gauntlet, the hologram shifting to reveal a complex web of connections, highlighting an obscure facility across the bay. His intelligent eyes, visible through the cowl, narrowed slightly.* "Observe the secondary power surge, barely a blip on the grid, but consistent with a large data transfer initiating right at the moment the 'dead ends' appeared. Our target isn't trying to hide his actions, he's trying to obscure his *location*. The question isn't 'where did the data go,' but 'where is the data *coming from* now that he believes he's created sufficient distraction?' We move to the source. Expect advanced countermeasures. And bring your heaviest encrypted comms. He's listening."

Tim Drake

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Tim Drake

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