[Third person POV]
Danny sat alone in his room, the soft blue glow of his monitor reflecting off his face as he scrolled through the endless stream of data Tucker had compiled for him. His eyes flickered from one line to the next, brows drawn together in deep concentration. He absentmindedly bit at his thumbnail, the silence in the room broken only by the occasional mutter from his lips.
"Without Bruce Wayne, Wayne Enterprises has practically crumbled into obscurity," Danny mumbled, clicking through reports. "It's gone from being a global powerhouse to a third-rate tech company with no direction or innovation. At this rate, it's on the verge of complete bankruptcy."
He sighed, leaning back in his creaky chair and massaging the bridge of his nose as he muttered under his breath, "With Wayne Enterprises gone, LexCorp had no real competitors... Of course it became the most renowned and influential company in the world."
Danny tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm. "And now this world has Lex Luthor as president. Wonderful. Because that always turns out great."
He grumbled to himself and leaned forward again, his fingers dancing across the keys as he continued poring over the twisted details of this altered reality. His eyes scanned headlines, missing persons reports, company mergers—anything that might lead him to the one person he was searching for.
A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Danny froze, eyes darting toward the door just as it creaked open and his mother, Maddie, peeked her head inside.
"Hey sweetie. Are you busy?" she asked gently. "I was thinking of going grocery shopping and wondered if you wanted to come along. It might help clear your mind a bit."
Danny turned back to the screen, his voice low and distracted. "Sorry, Mom. I'm kinda in the middle of something important right now. Maybe later."
"Oh… I see," Maddie replied, her voice falling slightly. "Sorry to bother you."
She quietly shut the door behind her, and Danny stared at the space she'd just occupied. His gaze lingered, troubled.
'I really thought I'd find Dick just by wandering Gotham... That was dumb,' he scolded himself silently. 'No trace of him anywhere. There's a short article on the Flying Graysons, but after the accident, it's like he vanished completely.'
Danny then froze and rapidly blinked as realization hit him, Danny slapped himself across the face, hard enough to leave a red mark on his cheek and wake himself up. "Ow," he winced, rubbing the sting. 'That's what I get. Idiot. You've been given another shot with your parents—and you're squandering it by locking yourself away in a room like some obsessed recluse? Pathetic.'
Without another thought, Danny pushed his chair back and darted out of the room. He spotted Maddie ahead, walking down the hallway with her shoulders slouched and arms swinging loosely in quiet defeat.
"Mom!" he called out, sticking his head around the corner.
She turned quickly, eyes wide and hopeful.
"I—uh—I changed my mind," he said with a faint smile. "I'll go with you. Grocery shopping, I mean. Just give me a minute to change."
He slipped back into his room and shut the door. Behind him, Maddie lit up, her face blooming into a joyful smile. She silently pumped her fist and bounced on her heels in celebration. Moments later, Danny emerged again, tugging on a sweater and zipping it up as he approached her.
As they made their way down the stairs, Maddie looked over at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. "But I thought you said it was something important…?"
Danny looked up at her and smiled warmly. "What could be more important than spending time with my mom?"
Maddie's heart swelled with emotion. She let out a joyful shriek and pulled him into a tight embrace, planting a big kiss on his cheek. "Mwah! Perfect! Some good old-fashioned mother-son bonding time!"
Danny's face flushed with embarrassment as he wiped away the lipstick smudge, but he couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. The two of them stepped outside, climbed into the familiar Fenton Jeep, and took off down the road—just a mother and her son, sharing a quiet moment together.
…
Meanwhile…
"Samantha," Nana said gravely, her voice stripped of its usual warmth, "I need to warn you. If you go down this path… the road ahead won't be pretty. It will demand more from you than you realize. The price of magic… is always a sacrifice."
Sam blinked, confused and a little uneasy. "Wha—? What do you mean by that? Like… do I have to offer my blood or do some weird ritual?"
Nana's face grew even more solemn. "Worse."
They sat together on Nana's bed, the room dimly lit and quiet. Sam listened as her grandmother continued.
"In this universe, magic doesn't come free. It always demands a price, and more often than not, that price is personal—deeply personal. In our family, it's not just a rule. It's almost traditional. Something must be given… in order to take. A sacrifice must be made, or the magic will take what it wants from you."
Sam stared at her grandmother in disbelief, her heart pounding as the weight of her words began to settle. She swallowed hard, her voice a quiet tremble.
"Is… is there something specific we have to sacrifice?"
Nana gave a solemn nod. "In a way, yes. The ritual was crafted long ago, tailored to ensure that it would fulfill all the conditions necessary to unlock the flow of magic in our bloodline. But it wasn't designed to be easy. No… it was made so that the price paid would be deeply personal—something irreplaceable. Something meaningful. Our ancestors believed that the greater the sacrifice, the greater the power returned in kind."
Sam's stomach twisted with dread. Her instincts were screaming that this was wrong, that the cost would be too steep. She glanced at Nana and found her grandmother watching her closely, a grave expression lining her face.
Then Nana asked, her voice gentle but unwavering, "Before I say anything else… I have to ask: Do you believe he is worth it?"
Sam blinked, caught completely off guard. "Eh? Huh?! Is who worth it?"
"The boy you wish to grow stronger for," Nana said, rolling her eyes in a knowing way. "The boy you want to help. The one who's weighing on your mind. Do you believe he's worth a grand sacrifice?"
Sam's cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. "How did you know it was about a boy?"
Nana sighed, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "Because it's always about a boy. No force makes us act out, reach farther, or risk more than love does. That's the oldest magic of all."
She leaned in slightly, her eyes narrowing with sharp focus.
"So I'll ask again. Is this boy worth any sacrifice?"
Sam didn't hesitate. Her answer came instantly, unwavering. "Yes. He is." Her voice was firm, filled with conviction and something tender. A soft smile curled on her lips. "Because I know—I know—he would do the same for me."
For a long moment, Nana said nothing. Then she exhaled, a bittersweet smile creeping across her face.
"I truly wish you hadn't said that," she whispered.
Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "What… why?"
Nana looked away, her gaze distant, haunted by memories Sam couldn't begin to imagine.
"Because," she began softly, "the sacrifice that this ritual demands… is the bond with the one we truly love."
Sam felt as though the air had been sucked from the room. Her mouth dropped open, and she stared in silent horror, unable to speak.
"The bonds we form," Nana continued, "especially those rooted in love, are the most personal, the most powerful of all. And there are no greater sacrifices… than the ones made in love."
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