Shards of light refracted through the inverted icicles hanging from the ceiling, casting fragmented reflections across the frost-covered, pristine white room. Scattered tools lay on the ground from the ongoing fight, while Red Hood was pinned beneath Vivi’s summoned horse. Nearby, Victor Fries—better known as Mr. Freeze—lay motionless in his suit, his pallor stark against the icy backdrop. In the midst of it all stood Vivi, cradling Nora Fries, carefully lifting her from her cryogenic pod.

“She’s fragile,” muttered Victor, his voice low but urgent. “Thawing her will only kill her.”

Jason Todd, the Red Hood, trained under Batman for years, wasn’t one to be so easily immobilized by a horse or even Victor. He had plenty of gadgets at his disposal, yet his instincts screamed at him to tread carefully. The girl standing across from him radiated an air of control, with contingency plans likely lurking behind every innocent expression.

Then there was the horse, that absurd white creature pinning him. It tilted its head, meeting his gaze with dark, serene eyes, before sticking out its tongue to lick his helmet.

Jason stared. “…Seriously?”

“Not necessarily,” Vivi interjected, setting Nora gently onto a lounge chair she’d pulled from her inventory. Nora’s eyelids fluttered weakly, hinting at consciousness. “I’ll fulfill my end of the bargain, but it won’t be me who saves her—it’ll be Victor himself.”

Victor, the renowned “model husband,” could stay on the floor for now.

Vivi knelt before Red Hood, examining him like a puzzle. “What crime did you commit?”

Jason snorted derisively. “What’s it to you? Here to arrest me? Sure, I’m not some goody-two-shoes like Batman’s little pet Robins.”

He froze mid-rant, though, as the gun that had been aimed at Nora earlier was now in Vivi’s hands. The barrel pressed firmly against the center of his helmet, accompanied by the distinct click of the safety disengaging.

“You sound like a bitter ex,” Vivi remarked with unsettling calm. “Do you hate Batman that much?”

Red Hood’s reputation preceded him. Even without direct confirmation, it wasn’t hard to guess he had crossed paths—and fists—with Batman. But now, with Bruce Wayne temporarily out of the picture and the gargoyle-like gargoyle patrols filling the void, it seemed that Gotham’s usual nighttime routine had shifted. Was Jason just another criminal bruised by the Bat?

“…Are you a Robin?” Vivi asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Of course not,” Jason scoffed. Vivi shoved the barrel harder against his forehead.

“Everyone gets one question,” she said, eyes sharp. “It’s your turn.”

Jason grinned beneath his mask, though his tone turned reflective. “Guess the old man’s happy with his new Robin. That kid’s a lot like him, isn’t he?” Ignoring her rules, he mused aloud, “If you trained under Batman, you’d know interrogations work better when you’re dangling the perp upside down, not standing face-to-face.”

The horse neighed sharply, and a smoke grenade erupted in the confined space. Jason lunged forward, his strike aiming to disarm her. Vivi felt the rush of air and anticipated the precise sequence of moves: a hit to numb her arm, a grab for her gun, followed by a hand strike to incapacitate her entirely.

But in the fleeting second before impact, she noticed where his eyes lingered—on Nora.

Jason’s attack unfolded exactly as Vivi had predicted, save for one critical oversight: her body didn’t register pain. Injuries healed at an unnatural pace, outstripping even the regenerative capabilities of Talons.

Then came the twist he couldn’t foresee: Vivi vanished.

His opponent had disappeared before his eyes.

“Now it’s my turn to act,” came her disembodied voice, taunting from the smoke. “I do love following the rules of the game.”

Jason gritted his teeth. Rules? Who cared about rules?

Jason Todd—ex-Robin, now Red Hood—had no love for Gotham’s poisoners. To him, eradicating gangs meant becoming the biggest and baddest gang leader himself. He’d planned to use the criminals as pawns, cleaning house before eliminating them one by one. But the city’s shift under Mayor Alek’s leadership—particularly the crackdown on East Gotham’s drug trade—both derailed his plans and left him oddly satisfied.

Now, standing in Mr. Freeze’s frozen haven, their paths had converged. The vigilante had taken down Victor with a blade to the head, and Jason thought for a moment she had killed him outright. Only Victor’s pained groan reassured him that it wasn’t fatal—just incapacitating.

Figures, Jason thought, Batman’s little proteges never kill. Only I’m the bad bird in the flock.

As his mind wandered, the smoke-filled room became a battleground of shadows and whispers. The girl’s fighting style, he noted, carried echoes of the Bat-family—Batman’s precision, Nightwing’s fluidity, and even Catwoman’s cunning unpredictability. Jason was forced to adapt quickly, barely keeping up as the fight turned into a dance of improvisation and reflex.

She’s not here for me, he realized mid-swing. She’s investigating Freeze… or maybe the drug trade in South Hinckley.

But one thing was clear: Red Hood was outmatched, not just in skill, but in whatever game this strange vigilante was playing.

Jason, despite his injuries—frostburns and bruises courtesy of Vivi—remained operational, though he decided it was time to leave now that his objectives were met. He stumbled toward the door, only to find it sealed shut.

Behind him, Victor struggled to his feet, raising his freeze gun shakily. Vivi’s calm voice cut through the tension: “If I were you, I’d check on Nora before trying anything rash.”

Then she turned her gaze to Jason. “And you, Red Hood,” she added with a saccharine smile, “be a good boy and surrender. Nobody’s leaving this room.”

Jason slammed a fist against the wall, sending a fine dust cascading down but achieving little else. The door, unyielding, mocked him.

“This one of your magic tricks?” he snapped.

The smoke from earlier began to clear, revealing Nora as she slowly blinked awake. Her eyes, unfocused at first, locked onto Victor’s face with dawning recognition. “…Victor?” she murmured.

Victor’s panic surged. He ignored everything else, rushing to cradle her frail form in his arms. His gloved fingers brushed against her hair, his expression a mixture of relief and shock as he saw life returning to her pale cheeks.

Vivi, twirling the knife in her hand, observed coolly. “It is magic, after all. Like something straight out of a fairy tale. Love can heal the one you care for the most,” she said lightly, “but if that love falters, so will the cure. Just as we agreed in the contract. I’ve upheld my end, Victor. Now it’s your turn.”

She didn’t mention the part about enduring the pain. Those details would reveal themselves soon enough.

Jason raised an eyebrow at the spectacle. So she’s coercing criminals into working for her with magical contracts? Interesting.

Nora’s gaze shifted from her husband to Vivi, bewildered by the turn of events. “What happened to you, Victor? You look so… different. Are you hurt?”

Victor’s face grew even paler—no small feat for someone already nearly white as snow. Despite the visible relief as Nora regained her health, his suit’s cooling mechanisms were failing, the temperature within climbing dangerously. He couldn’t stay in this environment much longer.

Jason, ever the sharp-tongued cynic, interjected. “Your husband’s a criminal now, ma’am. Killed quite a few people for you, too. He can’t even take off that suit—it’s the only thing keeping him alive in temperatures above freezing.”

Victor flinched at the words, but he met Nora’s gaze with a hollow look. “We should… get a divorce.”

Nora’s eyes widened in shock. “What are you saying?”

Victor’s voice cracked as he explained, “You deserve a better life than this. I love you, but I can’t make you endure my mistakes. You’ve been given a second chance. You should live it somewhere far away from me.”

Despite his words, Nora’s grip on his arm tightened. “No,” she said firmly, cutting through his despair. “We’ve always saved each other, Victor. I’m not leaving now.”

“Well,” Vivi interrupted, clapping her hands to draw their attention, “how about a proper labor contract? Nora Fries, you work for me, and I’ll make sure Victor gets his body fixed. And no, the work won’t involve any illegal activities.”

Victor’s immediate protest—“No!”—was drowned out by Nora’s determined response. “I agree.”

Vivi tossed her a knife, almost playfully. “Contract sealed. All you have to do is prick your finger with this blade. The same love that healed you will heal him. But remember—if you ever stop loving him, he’ll die.”

Victor’s eyes widened in horror, but before he could stop her, Nora drove the knife into her palm. The blade dissolved into nothingness as if made of air.

The transformation was immediate. Victor’s cumbersome battle suit let out a sharp hiss as the freezing mechanisms shut down. He fell to his knees, trembling, as Nora embraced him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “Why didn’t you let me share your pain?”

Outside, a shadow appeared at the window. Tal’s face pressed silently against the glass, observing the scene: Victor and Nora locked in a heartfelt embrace, Vivi standing smugly nearby, and Jason sprawled awkwardly on the floor, still pinned under a horse.

Tal knocked on the window, his expression unreadable.

“Big brother!” Vivi’s eyes lit up with mock delight. She pointed to Jason. “That guy’s illegally armed. Arrest him!”

Jason groaned. Of all the people here, which one wasn’t carrying an illegal weapon? And did she really need to call for backup? She was clearly winning!