Bruce's gaze flicked up to Terry's, trying to read him. Rockets. In the boots. For propulsion. To help him fly. He couldn't even believe his future self would allow a kid like this to fly around Gotham with rockets in his boots.

He fingered the threads, picked at the hidden zips, found some of the tech in the cowl that he wanted to take a deeper look at, and then folded his arms, fixing his eyes to Terry again.

"How far in the future did you say you were from?"