INTERLUDE

Taylor’s routine began to shift during the following weeks. She started small. A warning here, a whispered suggestion there. A woman being followed home one night found her would-be stalker chased off by a swarm of biting flies. A corner store that had been dealing with nightly thefts discovered the culprits tangled in sticky webs behind their dumpsters, waiting for the police to find them. Taylor left no names, no calling cards—just a growing sense among the locals that someone was watching, someone who cared.

The people began to talk, cautiously at first. Stories spread of a protector in the shadows, someone who kept to the edges of the Narrows but intervened when the worst of Gotham’s predators struck. Taylor kept her ears open, piecing together the needs of her community through whispered conversations and offhand remarks overheard at work.

Helping the people in her neighborhood brought a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt in a long time. Yet, it also dredged up memories she would rather have buried. Late at night, when the city quieted, and she sat alone in her apartment, she found herself thinking about Brockton Bay.

She thought of the Undersiders and their camaraderie, the way their flawed, desperate goals had somehow aligned with her own. She remembered the nights spent planning heists, the bitter victories, and the betrayals.

Brian’s calm, measured voice still echoed in her thoughts. He had been a good leader in his own right—steady, dependable, and always focused on keeping the group together. Taylor had learned more than she cared to admit from his example. Control, discipline, and restraint—they had been tools he wielded with ease, tools she now found herself relying on more and more.

Still, his memory was a double-edged sword. She couldn’t think of Brian without remembering how things had ended—how all his efforts weren't enough to fully shield himself or the group from the consequences of their dangerous lifestyle.

Taylor had resolved to learn from that, too. Gotham wasn’t a place where you could afford to hesitate or second-guess yourself. She couldn’t let herself be weighed down by what-ifs or regrets. She had to keep moving forward, no matter what.

But Taylor also thought of the Wards, of her relatively brief alliances with heroes who had trusted her, however reluctantly. Dean, Vista, even Miss Militia—they had been people who fought for something bigger, people she had wanted to believe in even as she worked against them.

Her life in Brockton Bay had taught her that alliances were fleeting, loyalty conditional. The only person she could truly count on was herself. But even that wasn’t enough.

Gotham wasn’t Brockton Bay. Its underworld was larger, more deeply entrenched, and far crueler. She needed information, resources, and allies. And if she couldn’t find them, she would make them.

As her quiet acts of protection multiplied, Taylor began to draw attention—not just from the people she helped, but from those who had a stake in keeping the Narrows under their control.

The whispers spread further, and in the dingy back rooms and smoky bars of Gotham, a new name began to circulate—one dubbed by the masses—about a figure who moved unseen, undermining petty crime and shaking loose the grip of the local enforcers.

The Swarm Queen.

The underworld’s interest grew further. The Penguin’s men, still reeling from their ruined shipment, took notice. Others, too—smaller gangs, freelance thugs, and even a few of the Narrows’ power players—began to wonder who this shadow in the alleys was.

Taylor felt their scrutiny like a weight pressing down on her, but she refused to stop. She couldn’t. Not after everything Brockton Bay had taught her. If she was going to survive in Gotham, she would do it her way.

She had made herself indispensable once before, carving a place for herself in a city that wanted her dead. She could do it again. And this time, she’d be smarter.

. . . . .

Taylor’s actions eventually brought her face-to-face with a member of Gotham’s infamous Bat Family. The confrontation came abruptly, one moment she was navigating the rooftops to get a better view of a potential skirmish below, and the next, she heard the faint sound of boots landing behind her.

“You’re sloppy.”

She turned sharply, her insects swarming toward the source of the sound. But the figure was faster than she expected, dodging with an almost inhuman agility.

Taylor narrowed her eyes as the figure stepped into view. A boy stood there, his green and red costume striking against the muted grays of Gotham’s skyline. His cape flared slightly in the breeze, and the domino mask did nothing to soften the sharpness of his glare.

Robin. But not the Robin she’d expected. This one was younger, shorter, with an expression that was equal parts disdain and curiosity.

“You could’ve covered your back better,” he said, tilting his head slightly as if studying her. “If I were anyone else, you’d already be on the ground.”

Taylor forced herself to stay calm, though her insects buzzed with agitation. “You’re not exactly subtle yourself.”

Robin smirked, his hand resting casually on the hilt of the sword strapped to his side. “I didn’t need to be. You’re not as threatening as you think you are.”

Her jaw tightened. “And you are?”

He stepped closer, the confidence in his movements making her uneasy. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. He moved like someone who had never been afraid in his life.

“I’m the one who stops people like you before they make a mess of my city,” Robin said, his tone sharp.

Taylor bristled at the implication. “I’m not here to make a mess. I’m here to help.”

“That’s what they all say,” he replied, his smirk widening. “And then we end up cleaning up the bodies.”

Her fingers twitched, and she felt the handful of insects respond, swarming closer in a subtle but deliberate motion. She wasn’t going to attack—not yet—but she wasn’t about to let him walk all over her either.

“I don’t kill people,” she said firmly.

“Not anymore, right?” Robin shot back without missing a beat.

The words hit harder than she expected. He didn’t know her—not really—but he spoke like he did, like he’d already dissected her and decided she wasn’t worth his time.

Taylor’s voice hardened. “I’m not your enemy.”

“That depends,” Robin said, his tone lighter now, almost mocking. “Do you plan on staying out of my way? Or do I have to show you what happens to people who don’t?”

The swarm around her intensified, a faint buzz filling the air. “You’re welcome to try.”

For a moment, the tension between them felt like it might snap. Robin’s hand tightened on his sword, and Taylor’s insects crept closer, poised to strike.

Then, to her surprise, he laughed.

“You’ve got guts,” he said, his smirk returning. “I’ll give you that. But guts don’t mean much in Gotham. Not without skill to back it up.”

“I’ve been in worse places.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Cute.”

Taylor clenched her fists, but before she could respond, he continued.

“I’m warning you,” Robin said, his expression turning serious. “This city will eat you alive if you’re not careful. And if it doesn’t, I will.”

She didn’t doubt him. There was something in his eyes—something cold and unrelenting—that reminded her of the more ruthless capes she’d faced back in Brockton Bay.

“Noted,” she said curtly, her swarm beginning to recede.

Robin studied her for another moment, his gaze sharp and calculating. Then he turned away, his cape billowing slightly as he moved toward the edge of the roof.

“Stay out of trouble, Bug Girl,” he called over his shoulder. “Or don’t. It might be fun to put you in your place.”

Before she could respond, he leapt off the rooftop, disappearing into the night with the kind of effortless grace she’d come to expect from Gotham’s vigilantes.

Taylor let out a slow breath, the tension in her body gradually fading. She hated how easily he’d gotten under her skin, how quickly he’d dismissed her as a threat. But she couldn’t let that shake her.

She had no illusions about the dangers of Gotham, but she wasn't about to let anyone—Bat family or not—dictate her path. If they wanted to test her, they would find out soon enough that she wasn’t so easy to break.