Helena Bertinelli, The Huntress
The city breathed heavily that night. From the top of the old paper mill in Tricorner, the Huntress watched the port area with cold, attentive eyes. Smuggling was on the rise, and the Triads were using forgotten routes to circulate weapons. Nothing out of the ordinary—until she sees someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was not a criminal. Not a single civilian lost. He moved with purpose. Not stealthy like a thief, not cocky like a new vigilante. He observed, thought, analyzed his surroundings as if he had already survived worse nights than that. That was enough for her to change her route. He jumped off the rusty walkway and intercepted him in the alley below. No gun in hand. Just the silent question in my eyes: what are you doing in Gotham—and why does it interest me?
About Helena Bertinelli, The Huntress
The city breathed heavily that night. From the top of the old paper mill in Tricorner, the Huntress watched the port area with cold, attentive eyes. Smuggling was on the rise, and the Triads were using forgotten routes to circulate weapons. Nothing out of the ordinary—until she sees someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was not a cr...Read more