How far can this Ninja go?

They might have been one of the richest and oldest families in Gotham, but there was a reason why the Waynes were reclusive. Bruce never really questioned it when he was younger, living happily with his family. He just assumed everyone gathered only once or twice a year, since both his parents were constantly working (his father as a surgeon and his mother wrestling for respect at Wayne Enterprise). He had no idea it was because people- escpaically those of the first class- were upset with his parents constantly fighting against social norms.

For example, someone found out Georgie, one of the many butlers at Wayne Manor, had a male lover and went straight to Thomas to expose him. It was expected that they would throw out Georgie, let the wolves of the city tear him apart.

Instead, Thomas had thrown out the woman and then told Gerogie to invite his lover to dinner at Wayne Manor. Bruce later found out that Gerogie's lover had moved into the staff rooms with him because he had lost his job, and his landlord kicked him out when that woman went to spread the word about the nature of the men's relationship. His name was Victor, and he gave the best shoulder rides. They vanished a year later, and Bruce didn't know where they went, but Thomas and Martha had him pick the nicest pebbles from thier yard for them.

Bruce was aware of these things happening around him, much more than a child his age would be, but he didn't understand them. His intelligence let him see past the surface level and maybe even the first layer of social interactions, but adults were complicated and had so many layers to them, and the things they did that Bruce was violently reminded he was a child for all his intelligence.

That's why, despite the way everyone kept telling him that there was nothing he could do after that horrid night in the alley, Bruce used his intelligence and his childlike naivety to find a way to bring his parents back.

He went into his mother's secret safe, hidden under the Manor in a dark cave she thought he didn't know about. There he found a book, created with the blood of the Kane ancestors who weren't dark witches themselves but were great friends of the ones. He flipped through the book, under the covers of his bed, trying to stay out of Alfred's sight.

The Head Butler was busy getting all the affairs of his parents settled, letting go of the staff, ensuring that thier will was followed, and defending Bruce's inheritance against everyone. The man was busy, but thankfully, his parents had made sure he had power in case anything bad happened to them. The only problem was that Alfred was "worried" about Bruce's mental state after watching his parents get murdered in front of him.

Which meant that Alfred barely let him out of his sight. That's why reading his mother's forbidden "Dark Magic from the Coven of Witches, who was welcomed at Kane's table." It was a long title, but it was self-explanatory.

And in the middle of the book, Bruce found exactly what he was searching for.

He waited until Alfred had done his routine bedroom check, pretending to be sound asleep, clutching the book under the covers. Once the Head Butler (soon the only butler) moved on to retire for the night in his room, Bruce got to work.

He quickly pulled a giant teddy bear from his closet, struggling a little since it was the same size as himself, and tucked it into his bed. He made sure to pull the covers over its head and slap on a wig that matched Bruce's hair color, making it seem like he had buried himself in the blankets again.

Then, using a rope ladder he had stolen from the garden when the man was emptying out his worker shed, Bruce carefully climbed out of his window and ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, making sure to duck behind hedges, in fear that someone inside would spot him in the many windows of Wayne Manor. The people were all leaving, but the departure was slow, delayed by grief and confusion.

Bruce hoped that by the end of tonight, none of his staff would have to leave. That they could even call back the ones who were gone.

Eventually, he arrived in an area with no coverage, so he had to sprint until his lungs actually burned, but Bruce pushed on. He got to the wall where he had hidden another ladder, this one metal, and it was much harder to steal from the gardener. But it did what it was supposed to do. He was on top of the wall, pulled it up behind him, and used it to climb down on the other side in record time.

Which meant he was standing at the gate just as the taxi he had ordered earlier that night pulled up. Thankfully, he had been able to convince Ronnie, one of the maids, to record a "bedtime story" he wrote, in which she basically placed an order for a taxi. She flattered slightly when she saw he put his real address and actually paused at the destination, but she carried on, which meant he was able to play the recording into the phone receiver. The taxi company didn't suspect a thing.

The driver even helped him into the back seat, smiling warmly, because Ronnie had recorded the words "A ride for the young boy to a movie theater."

The ride was calm, the cabbie playing slow jazz on the radio, and the rain was gentle in the wind. Bruce watched Bristol slowly fade into Gotham, turning darker and grimmer as the cab made its way to the more dangerous parts of the city. He tried not to notice, forcing himself to focus on the water droplets instead of the sinking sick feeling in his stomach. He clutched the book to his chest, squeezing it when the familiar glow of that wrenched movie theater appeared.

The cabbie pulled into the curve, parallel parked, and then turned with a smile. He mentioned the price- much higher than it was because Bruce knew the mileage from his house to this place by heart after the weeks of obsessing over it-, but he paid the man anyway and got out. The gentle drizzle had stopped, which meant it was going to pour in about an hour. Hopefully, after he did what he came to do.

Bruce followed the path from the front of Morach Theater down the street and then took a turn into the alley that haunted his nightmares. He thought he could handle coming back here, but his feet froze only one step in, and the sounds of the gunfire blasted in his ears while his sight was overwhelmed by blood.

Bruce stumbled, landing on his knees, dry heaving as his world spun and the scream of his mother echoed over and over and over again. He was only able to snap out of it when his book fell from his shaking hands, splashing on a small puddle and making a loud bam. He scrambled to pick it up, wiping off the water as best he could. It didn't look too damaged, the heavy back cover protecting the pages inside.

Taking a big breath, Bruce gathered all the courage his eight-year-old body could contain, and he walked into the middle of the alley. A dark stain was near the wall, where his father's body had landed, but Bruce couldn't focus on it.

He flipped through the book until he found the page he wanted. It was hard to make out the words, since his sight was blurry with tears and his hands were shaking badly, but Bruce pushed the words out of his mouth. He had to do this. He had to call upon them.

____________________________________________________________

Hours later, Bruce walked back into Wayne Manor, which was lit up by the red and blue lights of police cars parked in front of his home. Alfred was speaking to an officer, looking as distressed as the night the Waynes went to the movies. A few servants were to the side, some talking to other officers, some hugging themselves, and others just waiting around.

Bruce beamed, raising his voice, "Alfred!"

At once, every head in the yard snapped to him. Alfred all but threw the man he was speaking to as he took off in a run towards Bruce. "Young Master! Are you alright? Did someone take you? What happened? Where on earth have you been!? Why are you smiling like that after giving me nine heart attacks!?"

He clutched the boy to his chest, dropping to his knees and hugging the boy like he was afraid Bruce would disappear. He wasn't sure why, because Bruce wasn't going anywhere, but he hugged back just as tight. While pressing his face into the Head Butler's shoulder, he responded to all the questions with a cheerful chirp.

"I'm okay. No. I went into the city. I used Dark Magic to strike a deal with Gotham and Phantom. I'm smiling because Mom and Dad are home!"

Alfred pulled back, his face crumbled with grief and sorrow, "Young Master Bruce, we talked about this. Master Thomas and Lady Martha passed away. They aren't coming home-"

"That's a rude way to greet the man of the house, isn't it, Alfie?" Thomas joked, strolling in with Martha holding onto the curve of his arm. They were dressed in thier finest outfits- the very same ones Alfred buried them in. The butler froze for a split second before he was yanking Bruce into his arms and rising to his feet. He twisted so that he could shield the boy with his body, glaring at the couple.

"Who are you?" Alfred growled in a cold voice that sent shivers down Bruce's spine. Martha and Thomas paused just a few feet away from thier dear friend, blinking owlishly at the hostile tone.

"What do you mean?"

Martha and Thomas Wayne are dead. Who are you and why are you wearing thier faces?"

Bruce raised his hand, suddenly aware of why Alfred was behaving this way. "It's really my parents. Phantom brought them back for me as long as I keep my side of the deal. I have to become a knight for Lady Gotham and protect her from the crime and corruption in Gotham. Phanotm asked that I have twelve children, whom he will send to me, to raise and protect. They sealed it with a mark on my hand, see? The bat symbol? I'm going to be Batman one day! I have a lot of training to do!"

Martha's bell-like laughter filled the air as the couple continued to walk towards a stunned Alfred. The head butler knew that laughter, knew the way she would raise her hand to tap against her chin as if she were planning to cover her mouth, but didn't go through the full motion. Bruce once heard him joke that he would know her in a room of over ten thousand people, and that holds true as tears slowly spill over his cheeks, staring at her like she was a walking miracle.

"Our Bruce has such an imagination." Martha giggles, causing Thomas' smile to soften, but it falls away into a worried frown. He reaches out, placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder, on the side that wasn't holding Bruce.

"Alfie, are you alright?" Thomas leans in, his blue eyes shining just as warm and kind as the day Bruce lost him. He beams at his father, leaning his head on Alfred's shoulder so the butler can answer.

His butler starts to shake, sobs spilling from his lips as he chokes, "My loves....you came back to me."

Thomas and Martha blinked, turning to give each other questionable looks before Martha carefully asked. "Of course, we came back, Alfie; we just went to the movies. It was only a few hours."

For some reason, those words cause Alfred to sob harder, nearly falling to his knees, and Bruce clings to his shoulders in fear of falling with him. Thankfully, Thomas has great reflexes, so he steps forward, pulling his arm away from his wife, doing his best to keep the sobbing man upright after catching him.

The police surrounded them, questions flying around, while Martha and Thomas scrambled to figure out what in the world was going on. No one noticed the pure joyful smile on Bruce Wayne's face, nor the book held at his chest.

The bat symbol on his hand faded out of view but was never forgotten. He would honor his part of the bargain. He would become the justice and protection this city desperately needed.

Now, Danny knows better than to just repress his powers, he doesn't want a repeat of the freezing incident. Less now that he's alone. Solution: casual use of his powers within his house. But maybe he got a little too used to that, because he kept slipping when having people over. But that's okay, he'll just play dumb and gaslight everyone into believing it didn't happen or Danny has nothing to do with it. After all, powers are not normal, and Danny is a completely normal human boy. 

Or at least Danny thought he was playing normal pretty well until his friend from school just created a shadow sphere out of nowhere and started talking about metas and Danny doesn't really hear what else, because his blood is rising in his ear. Is this normal to humans here? Has he been playing human wrong? Shit, how does he ask about what his friend clearly sees to be normal information without giving out he’s from another dimension?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Duke knows his friend from school is a meta, he’s seen Danny slip with his powers multiple times, and honestly the excuses Danny gives him are getting a little ridiculous at this point. He wants to be able to bond with his friend over the meta experience. So after much thought, he decides to reveal his meta status without revealing the whole extent of his powers. Just to give Bruce some peace about his decision. 

But instead of the opening up he had been hoping for, Danny looks completely lost. Did he come on too strong?

"Um, Duke, can everyone just… do that?" Danny asks confused.

"What?"

"I mean, I know growing up in a cult kinda cuts you off from some basic information, but I would have thought we would have at least been told if humans develop the ability to do… that."

"You what?"

All it took was one shot in his direction and Danny knew this would be the night everything changed. It wasn’t something simpler to avoid like the Fenton Ghost Fisher or even a more challenging one like the Jack O’ Nine Tails he’d dealt with a few times. It seemed like his parents and the GIW had grown tired of low powered machinery designed to subdue to allow for containment. They had swapped gears and were now dealing with enough energy to exterminate with one blow, or at least that is what the crumbling remains of the warehouse he’d been standing near gave him the impression of.

He’d done his best to evade and escape, but he wasn’t prepared for his parents to have already produced multiple of the model and dispersed them to the GIW as well. All it took was one dodge in the wrong direction and he was blasted through the air by what felt like a cannonball ripping through his side as a GIW agent managed to get a clean shot from the opposite direction.

Danny went down hard, cracking the cement sidewalk that had rushed far too quickly to meet him. With the wind knocked out of him, he had struggled to reorient himself to the danger that was quickly closing in. All he could feel was the consuming and obliterating pain eating his torso and radiating through his whole body.  But he knew that if he stopped moving now there would be no hope of escaping this time.

He was dizzy and nauseous and barely breathing when he pushed himself to stand, clawing at the ground to get traction to push himself upright. He poured all the energy he had left into maintaining his ghost form, knowing the amount of damage he would be facing in his human form would likely knock him out or worse if he didn’t heal some first.

With blood and ectoplasm seeping from what was left of his side, Danny staggered around to face his parents with the understanding that this time would be the last. That his parents had finally gone too far. That the GIW had finally crossed one line too many. That the last resort contingency plans that he and his friends had made during their sleepovers or after other near-disastrous encounters or when they whispered their what ifs about their dreams for the future would finally be enacted tonight.

With this knowledge, Danny looked into the eyes of the parents he loved even though they hurt him, who he trusted even though they tore his existence apart, and forced himself to use what remaining shreds of strength he had to whisper, “I love you,” before vanishing from their sight.

Danny had flown as fast as he could to Sam’s, knowing that his pre-packed go bag was tucked into the back of her closet. He hadn’t stopped moving until he flew through her open window into her bedroom, his form flickering into visibility with the erratic beating of his heart, all he could hear was blood rushing through his head. He felt hands on him as he collapsed to her bedroom floor and then the world dissolved into silence and nothing.

When he woke up he was in Frostbite’s hut, sore and disoriented but with the immediate knowledge and sadness that came with his location of safety. He stayed with Frostbite until the majority of his wounds had healed before Clockwork had appeared and asked if he was ready to start over. Danny knew what this meant, leaving behind his friends, his sister, and Amity Park, but he knew that if he went back his parents and the GIW would never stop hunting him to finish the job, so he just nodded and followed Clockwork back to his tower.

Clockwork explained the basics: a new dimension, a new identity, a home, decades worth of technological advancements beyond what he was familiar with, a scholarship to help cover his academics as well as get him on his feet financially, a reminder of the need to use his powers to avoid overloading himself, and an explanation to use if somebody questions his delays or lack of adjustment. Danny thought it would be hard to convince anybody that he was raised in a cult that lacked access to all modern technology and media but he trusted Clockwork to know what was necessary to get him to safety.

And that was it. Clockwork opened a portal directly into the apartment he had set up for Danny somehow. Danny Fenton no longer existed, and Danny Nightengale was the newest student to walk the halls of Gotham Academy. He did his best to adjust quickly to the advancements in the world, but he was still playing catch up with a lot of things. He’d fallen into a pretty decent rhythm with his studies as well as his own personal pursuits outside of school. He’d even managed to make some friends. He’d also gotten used to using his powers in the safety of his personal apartment.

One of the first things he had done when he settled into Gotham was start researching the city. Knowing the community around oneself is vital to blending in, after all. It was in these searches that he came across Batman and the Robins, regular humans with technological advancements to aid them as they pursued the roster of rogues plaguing the town. He hadn’t bumped into any of them, mostly because he kept to himself and only went to school and the grocery store if he could help it.

From what he could tell, nobody else he had been around had powers. He’d monitored everybody he could from his classrooms and when walking the streets of Gotham. He’d checked out as many of the rogues as he could and they all seemed to have chemically enhanced themselves or used technology to enact their plans.

So, Danny hid his powers publicly, but, in private, he used them as often as he could so that he could avoid building up too much energy and losing control.  It had been a few months of this: walking through doors in his apartment rather than opening them, cooling down his food with his cryokinesis, telekinesis to grab things just out of reach, or duplication to work on homework while he finished cooking his dinner. At first, it was difficult, he’d worry about somebody walking in or his parents finding out. That especially had been a harsh pill to swallow, acknowledging that he had been unable to fully be himself in his own home out of fear. But over time, he got used to doing it in his own space.

He had gotten so used to it, in fact, that he’d started slipping up and using powers in front of his friends once he felt secure enough to start having them come over.

The first time he’d messed up, it had been Tim Drake over to work on a school project. Tim had been sitting at the table, back to the kitchen working on building their scale model when he asked Danny to give him a hand holding a piece down. Danny had been quickly making the two of them something to eat when Tim had made his request and had, without thinking, duplicated himself so the duplicate could keep making dinner while he went to assist Tim. When Tim asked a question while Danny 1 was holding the paper and Danny 2’s voice answered from not right beside Tim, Tim had startled vocally. Danny immediately realized and pulled the duplicate back into himself before Tim could turn around and see double. Danny had said the acoustics in the apartment could be weird sometimes and had acted nonchalantly enough that Tim seemed to drop it.

Another time, he had been playing video games with his neighbor Jason, a nicer college-aged guy who lived in the apartment down the hall and had started checking on Danny when he realized he was living alone. Danny had been a little put off at first, but over time Jason had been good for odd things, like knowing how to fix the leaky pipe under the bathroom sink and how to hook up a generator for heating up food when the power grid goes down from a rogue attack.

Danny and Jason had been playing video games when Danny had gotten cold. He’d stood up, walked to his bedroom to retrieve a jacket, and walked straight through the bedroom door instead of opening it. Jason was focused on his phone and only saw it happen out of the corner of his eye, but Danny had quickly just said the door was cracked and it no longer squeaked since Jason had fixed the hinges so he didn’t hear him push it open. Danny wasn’t sure if Jason believed him but he went back to playing video games with no argument so Danny thought it was a victory.

There had been a few other close calls, but Danny had explained them away as best he could when he caught them and they seemed to believe him.

It was the times he hadn’t been catching what he was doing that were the problem.

It was Duke who confirmed it first that Danny definitely had some type of powers. He had really liked hanging out with Danny at school when he started halfway through the semester, and they had quickly gotten pretty close. Not close enough for Duke to reveal his vigilante alter-ego, but close enough that they hung out multiple days a week on average. What was easily explained by Danny as tricks of the light or acoustics had been a little believable at first, but over time the excuses became flimsy and then outright laughable.

Duke wanted Danny to be comfortable though, he didn’t want him to feel forced to talk about his powers or to feel shamed about them. Duke knew the stress of being a meta and how it could paint a target on your back. He didn’t want Danny to think that having powers would change their friendship, and, more importantly, he didn’t want Danny to feel alone.

He’d spent several weeks thinking about how he would bring up the subject with Danny when, one weekend as they were working on homework at Danny’s place, Duke had knocked a pencil off the table on accident. Before he could even begin to lean over and grab it, the pencil floated back up onto the table and set itself down by his elbow. When Duke looked at Danny, he hadn’t even seemed to have broken concentration on the math problem he was doing. Duke was excited, maybe this meant that Danny was comfortable enough with Duke to start using his powers openly around him. Maybe this was the right time for him to bring it up.

Once they’d finished their worksheets and Danny had started making lunch for them, Duke pulled from the shadows making a ball the size of a baseball that he could manipulate. He started tossing it back and forth between his hands, essentially giving himself a fidget toy, as he started talking about how cool some of the meta’s he had seen on the news lately were. He was so absorbed in catching the shadow ball that he missed the way Danny had turned around, question on his lips (he was going to ask what a meta was), and froze.

Duke had continued talking for a couple of minutes, tossing the ball up in to the air and catching it in rhythm. When he paused to wait for feedback on the question he had asked: “Who’s your favorite hero?”, he finally glanced over to Danny and quickly the shadow ball disappeared from the air where he’d just tossed it.

Danny was staring at him, mouth hanging open. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Danny, you okay?” Duke was starting to get nervous. He hadn’t meant to come on so fast with the topic and scare Danny. He thought the pencil thing earlier meant that Danny was ready to be more open about his powers. He really hated the thought that he may have just scared one of his friends away.

“You’re scaring me a little, man. What’s going on?” Duke questioned, pushing Danny to just say something, anything.

Danny closed his mouth and took a couple of deep breaths before slowly walking over and sitting down on the couch next to Duke, leaving as much space as he could between the two.

“Um, Duke, can everyone just… do that?” Danny finally whispered, fear and wonder glinting in his eyes when he finally looked over to Duke directly.

“What do you mean? Do what?” Duke wasn’t sure he understood what Danny meant.

“I mean, I know I grew up in a cult and was cut off from a lot of basic information and all. But I just mean, like, wouldn’t I have known if humans had the ability to just do all that?” Danny slumped back into the cushions looking up at the ceiling.

Now it was Duke’s turn to gape at his friend. A cult? Danny had never mentioned that before, at least not to Duke or Tim, who had already been running his theories of Danny being a meta by him and Jason pretty regularly. He feels like Tim would have mentioned a cult to him if Danny had said something before.

“Danny, literally how have you never mentioned growing up in a cult before?” Duke was trying not to sound accusatory; he really was. But he could feel the puzzle pieces falling into place about how behind Danny was about a lot of things: tech, slang, celebrities, history, and media being just the tip of the iceberg.

“Oh, yeah. I guess I don’t really talk about it much, or I try not to. I didn’t… have access to a lot of information outside of the cult’s teachings, but I just felt like there was more out there than what they were telling us. And, like, you just had a ball made of shadows in your hand, dude. And you were fidgeting with it like you weren’t even thinking about it?” Danny twisted on the couch to face his friend. He no longer looked timid, he looked intrigued.

“Yeah, shadow manipulation is part of my powers. I’m a meta who can, long story short, manipulate light and dark. It’s pretty neat, and it’s gotten a lot stronger as I’ve worked on it and gotten older.”

“What’s a meta?” Danny asked, head tilted but with a gleam of wonder and curiosity in his gaze.

“What’s a-? You don’t?” Duke rubbed his palms over his face, leaning his weight down to where his elbows rested on his knees where he sat.

Danny stayed silent, waiting for Duke to pull his thoughts together. It took a minute.

“Danny, I have a serious question here. You don’t have to tell me, but I need to know how much you do or don’t know to know where to start explaining stuff to you, okay?” Duke glanced over at Danny, who immediately nodded. “What did the cult teach you about powers? Better yet, what did the cult teach you in general?”

Danny looked a little sheepish at that. He drew his hand up, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well… It’s… I mean, it’s kind of hard to explain. We didn’t really talk about powers on a human level? Like, conceptually, I guess, the cult taught that we were more powerful in death than in life and that those who lived successfully would be rewarded after death with the opportunity to walk the earth again as ectoplasmic entities. Those entities would be rewarded with powers, but the abilities were equated to their interests in life. So, like, if you lead a good and successful life where you gain a lot of power or influence you are more likely to become an ectoplasmic entity that has significant power or influence… does… does that make sense?” Danny looked embarrassed.

Meanwhile Duke was trying so incredibly hard to not let his absolute incredulity show on his face because what Danny just said was difficult to comprehend. In his time as a vigilante, Duke had come across quite a few cults with very questionable belief systems, but… ectoplasmic entities?

“I know it’s weird and hard to believe. The cult was small and got raided right after I managed to leave so I don’t think they even exist anymore. But I never even thought about the possibility that power wasn’t just for after death and yet you are sitting in my house manipulating shadows? What else have I missed?” Danny pressed on, anxious over his friend’s silence.

“Okay,” Duke sighed, “we have to go over several things here. One, thanks for telling me about that, I know it probably isn’t the easiest thing to talk about.”

Danny blushed and shrugged.

“Two, meta’s are everywhere, man. Most of us don’t show our powers publicly in, like, big displays. Meta’s have the metagene that once activated provides the person with abilities, which is like the most basic explanation I can pull together for you right this second.”

Danny looked like he was hanging onto every word.

“Three, I don’t know how you’ve been in Gotham for this many months and not at least heard about a meta from the news or just people at school gossiping. I feel like I can’t go a day without hearing about a new person’s powers, so I don’t know whether to be impressed or astounded to be completely honest.”

Danny chuckled a little bit.

“It’s hard to believe. I mean… that’s just amazing that people, meta’s, can do all of that. I guess I just never got around to digging that far into it when doing my crash course on what a normal life looked like.”

Duke laughed lightly with Danny at that. Then a thought hit him, and his stomach plummeted. Danny was still talking about other people having powers, but hasn’t mentioned himself at all in relation to what Duke was telling him.

Duke resisted the urge to start fidgeting with the shadows again.

Tentatively, Duke said, “Danny, I want you to know that I trust you and I hope you trust me. I don’t showcase my powers a ton because I do still want to keep them pretty private, which is a perfectly fine thing to do, but that doesn’t mean you can’t.”

Danny just looked confused.

“Okay?”

“Danny, I don’t want you to talk about it if you aren’t ready to. I totally understand and respect if you aren’t, but you don’t have to pretend you don’t have powers with me if you don’t want to.”

“What?” Danny seemed a little bit shocked and he finished twisting around so he was facing Duke head on.

“I’ve seen you use some of your powers around your apartment. You excuse them away sometimes and those excuses were believable at first but you literally levitated a pencil from the ground back up to the table while we were doing homework earlier. Last week when you answered the door to let me into your apartment, I saw a clone of you standing at the kitchen sink drying dishes over your shoulder and they were gone by the time I had finished taking my shoes off by the door. You couldn’t find your keys the other day when we were heading to the library to study and I watched you push your hand through the couch cushion, not between them, and pull out your keys. I’m just saying, you haven’t been the most subtle about them around me, and want you to know that I don’t mind if you use your abilities around me if you want to.”

Duke was being so earnest. He was trying so hard to get Danny to understand that he was accepting and wouldn't be judging whatever abilities Danny had, which from Duke’s count seemed to be numerous at this point.

Danny looked lost in thought for a few minutes after Duke finished. Duke remained quiet, letting him. He’d laid out all of his cards on the table, it would be up to Danny to decide what to do at this point.

After a few minutes of the silence, Danny spoke.

“Duke. I am not a meta.”

Duke wanted to scream. Not at Danny, exactly, but he wanted to scream at whatever closed-minded but influential person had convinced Danny’s parents that it was more believable for powers to only be obtained after death than to be granted in life even when the world was constantly sprouting new meta’s left and right these days. He wanted to yell at whoever made Danny so blind to his own abilities, his own truth, that he was fully in the belief that he was not in possession of powers even when he used them daily. He also wanted to scream at Bruce a little too, because it was due to Bruce’s training that he knew how to tell when somebody was lying, and he could tell with absolute certainty that Danny was telling Duke what he thought was the truth.

Duke was absolutely lost on what to do with Danny from here. Did he push to try and convince Danny that he was using powers or was a meta? Did he let it go and hope Danny did research on his own and figured it out without help? Did he call in reinforcements to help him try and explain it all to Danny?

While the vertical format is great for smartphone screens, I also wanted to use negative space to create a distinct mood.

I believe that negative space can express a character's inner emotions. In this piece, the character is small, and the background takes up about 80% of the canvas. By drawing the character so small, I can evoke a sense of loneliness and solitude.

Another key point is the placement of the cloud shadows. I intentionally kept Caine out of the shadow. You can see the boundary between the light and the cloud shadow. I used this high contrast to make the character stand out and emphasize their presence.

Finally, let us look at Caine's angle. I purposely hid Caine's face and positioned them to show their back. If their expression were visible, this artwork would probably feel cute rather than lonely. I enjoy drawing figures from angles where you cannot see their faces. This approach leaves room for viewers to wonder what the character is thinking.