"Isn't that by definition insanity?" asks Robin, casting a glance up at Batman. He misses his old white lenses of his real domino; not only were they exceedingly practical, they made his expression less readable. Damian Wayne isn't the most expressive of children, never one to smile, only sneer, but his eyes are his tell. With them visible even when his face is partially obscured by a far clumsier mask than the one he's used to, he feels almost naked.

Even so, he's glad to be out on patrol, however nominal that patrol might be. He needles his father out of habit, nothing else.

"Repeating the same task over and over again, expecting different results?"