He blinks as they go through the wall, but it doesn't feel like anything different.
And on the other side of it - home.
They stand in the entrance hall of Wayne Manor, at the foot of a vast Christmas tree that stretches fifteen, twenty feet into the air. Decorations cover every inch of it; he used to spend most of a whole day watching the staff cover it, when he was small. They'd let him hang balls on the lower branches, and wrap him up in tinsel while he laughed. He was never allowed up the ladder to decorate further up, no matter how much he begged.
He smiles at the sight of it - it's been a long time since he bothered - and looks around. Nothing's different. A mark of how little the place has moved on, he supposes.
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And on the other side of it - home.
They stand in the entrance hall of Wayne Manor, at the foot of a vast Christmas tree that stretches fifteen, twenty feet into the air. Decorations cover every inch of it; he used to spend most of a whole day watching the staff cover it, when he was small. They'd let him hang balls on the lower branches, and wrap him up in tinsel while he laughed. He was never allowed up the ladder to decorate further up, no matter how much he begged.
He smiles at the sight of it - it's been a long time since he bothered - and looks around. Nothing's different. A mark of how little the place has moved on, he supposes.
'What year is this?'