Curate, connect, and discover
There is a time vortex, and a malfunction, and in the end there are six people on top of the Wayne Enterprises building.
They look at each other in shock and take in the matching outfits, the red and yellow and green. All of them have some idea what’s going on, who they’re seeing, except the youngest (who is really the oldest).
“Wait,” he says, his eyes wide. “There are more Robins?”
“There must’ve been something that altered time,” says the third Robin, who is clever. He is not yet wearing the red and black costume of mourning, and when he looks at the group around him, he only knows the second and first Robins by name. “It’s the only explanation.”
“Of course,” the fifth Robin huffs, exasperated. Unlike his brother, he recognizes everyone except the sixth, and he wishes he didn’t. Under his mask, his eyes rocket skyward. “Just my luck to be stuck with you imbeciles.”
“Awfully judgemental, aren’t you?” the third Robin notes.
“I have a 4.0 GPA,” the second Robin says. “I don’t think I’m stupid.”
All of the Robins stare at him. This is unexpected.
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