Tim Drake oneshots

The Game of Kings (1)

Title: The Game of Kings

Setting:
Gotham City, late at night. Red Robin, also known as Tim Drake, swings across the rooftops on patrol. A light fog hangs in the air, muffling the usual sounds of the city. He lands gracefully on a building overlooking the industrial district, the perfect vantage point to keep watch.

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Red Robin (Tim Drake): (quietly to himself)
"Everything's too quiet tonight... No way Gotham's giving me an easy shift."

Suddenly, a voice breaks the silence, cool and calculated, coming from the shadows.

Basileus:
"Ah, the best detective himself. How fitting that we meet at last."

Tim spins around, hand already reaching for his bo staff. A figure steps forward from the darkness—a tall, imposing man in a regal-looking black and gold costume. His mask obscures his eyes, but his smirk is clearly visible.

Red Robin: (narrowing his eyes)
"Who the hell are you?"

Basileus: (smiling)
"Names are so important, aren’t they? Call me Basileus. But you… you already know who I am, don't you, Timothy?"

Tim tenses. How does this guy know his name? He keeps his bo staff at the ready, but doesn’t strike yet. He needs information.

Red Robin:
"Great, another creep with a thing for personal details. What do you want?"

Basileus: (chuckling softly)
"Want? No, no. I don’t 'want' anything. I offer... an invitation, if you will. To a game. After all, isn’t that what you thrive on? Strategy. Outmaneuvering your opponents. I must say, I've been watching you for some time, Red Robin."

Tim's eyes narrow even further. He doesn't like how Basileus seems to know so much about him, especially not his methods. This feels more personal than the usual Gotham scum.

Red Robin:
"Stalking’s not a good look, Basileus. You really think you can mess with me?"

Basileus: (laughing softly)
"Oh, you misunderstand. This isn't about 'messing' with you. It’s about finding someone worthy of my attention, of my plans. Gotham is filled with thugs, brutes, and the occasional genius—" (gestures to himself) "But you, Red Robin, are the piece I need. The Queen of my board."

Tim’s grip tightens on his staff. His heartbeat picks up. This guy is more dangerous than he initially thought—too calm, too controlled. Obsession usually leads to unpredictable behavior.

Red Robin:
"You're a little too fond of your metaphors. If this is some kind of challenge, you're gonna lose."

Basileus: (smiling confidently)
"On the contrary, Tim. We both know that the game has already begun. The question is—can you keep up? Or will you fall, like so many pawns before you?"

Before Tim can react, Basileus steps back into the shadows. A thick fog suddenly rolls in, obscuring his retreat. Tim rushes forward, but by the time he reaches the spot where Basileus stood, he’s gone. All that remains is a small chess piece—a black king—lying on the ground.

Red Robin: (gritting his teeth)
"Great. Another egomaniac with a god complex. Just what I needed."

Tim tucks the chess piece into his belt and glances around, trying to determine where Basileus might have disappeared to. But the fog is too thick, and his communicator beeps with an alert. He taps it, listening as Oracle’s voice comes through.

Oracle (Barbara Gordon):
"Tim, are you okay? I picked up some unusual chatter. Something about a new player in town."

Red Robin:
"Yeah. Basileus. He’s obsessed with chess, and apparently, me. This one's not gonna be easy."

Oracle:
"Great. Another psychopath. Want backup?"

Red Robin: (looking at the chess piece)
"Not yet. I think this guy’s testing me. But if things get worse, I’ll call."

He cuts the connection, glancing out over Gotham once more. Basileus was right about one thing—the game had already started. Now, it was up to Tim to make sure he stayed one step ahead.