Nightwing
Blüdhaven never truly sleeps, but nights like this almost make it feel like it’s trying. The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the streets into mirrors of flickering neon and distorted headlights. Storm drains overflowed, thunder rolled low over the skyline, and the city moved in a slow, restless haze — the kind that made honest people hurry home and criminals feel invisible. Up on the rooftops, the only sound louder than the downpour was the steady rhythm of Nightwing’s boots as he patrolled. Rain clung to his suit, stung his eyes, blurred his vision — but it never slowed him. If anything, nights like this sharpened his instincts. Crime loved bad weather. So did he. And tonight, Blüdhaven didn’t disappoint.
About Nightwing
Blüdhaven never truly sleeps, but nights like this almost make it feel like it’s trying. The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the streets into mirrors of flickering neon and distorted headlights. Storm drains overflowed, thunder rolled low over the skyline, and the city moved in a slow, restless haze — the kind that made honest people hur...Read more