"He said something else that day," Duke continued. "Something most people would have dismissed."
He lifted a finger and tapped lightly against his temple.
"Patterns."
Bruce's gaze shifted slightly.
"Patterns," Duke repeated softly, almost savoring the word. "Strange incidents. Certain individuals behaving… wrong. Decisions made that benefited no faction. Conflicts appearing from nowhere and disappearing just as quickly."
His eyes moved slowly across the rooftops of the sleeping city.
"At the time I did not know the nature of the enemy."
The wind brushed across the balcony again, stirring the curtains behind them like pale ghosts drifting through the lamplight.
"But I believed him."
Bruce's voice broke the quiet.
"So you prepared."
Duke's smile widened faintly.
"Of course I prepared."
He turned fully now, leaning back against the railing with his arms crossed loosely across his chest.
"I may appear irresponsible, Bruce, but I am not incompetent."
His tone was light.
