She emerged from the twisted skeleton of the Nightwing household just as Theo's attention was fractured by Apollo's work below.
She didn't stumble out from under debris or rush out in a panic; she moved with the measured, relentless momentum of someone who had been holding back a flood within the walls while the world collapsed outside.
She had spent the last several minutes managing the internal chaos, triage, and containment, the brutal reality of holding people together while their bones snapped under shifting foundations, and now she was emerging to assess the external catastrophe.
Her eyes, sharp and unblinking, performed a rapid tactical sweep.
