Earth 616

The sirens in the distance snapped Dick out of her bewilderment. Instinctively, she knew she had to respond, just as she would have as Nightwing.

_"Okay, figure all this body-universe-hopping crap later. People need my help," she declared, heading to the window. She stopped, glancing at her reflection, her blonde hair and pretty face fully exposed. "Right, secret identity..." she reached into her suit's hood and pulled the mask down over her face. "God, this thing is stuffy! Couldn't this chick have just worn a domino mask?"_

Hopping up onto the window sill, she paused, realizing that her usual method of traversing the city with a grappling hook wasn't an option. In fact, none of her everyday gadgets were available. She looked at the web shooters on her wrists, her mind racing with the memories of their use. She recalled Janet van Dyne's instructions, but the theory was one thing; practical application was another.

Taking a deep breath, Dick leaped out of the window, aiming her wrist at a nearby building.

THWIP!

The web shot out, attaching firmly, just like her grappling hook. She felt a thrill of success for a moment, but that quickly turned to panic as she swung forward awkwardly. The motion was nothing like the controlled arcs she was used to with a grappling hook. She careened wildly, narrowly missing a collision with a building.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

Dick swore in her newly feminine tone, firing another web and yanking herself to the side. Only for her to swing for too long and drag down into the street, her spider-senses narrowly saving her from turning into road kill.

Her heart raced. She had to get this right. Focusing, she tried to remember the swing mechanics she had seen other spider-people use in her fleeting visions of this world. Pushing past her fear, she shot another web, trying to mimic those movements. She launched herself skyward, shooting another web and carrying herself forward. The swing was better but still rough, her body still needed to be attune to the rhythm and timing required for smooth web-slinging. Nor was she used to operating in this new body, to begin with.

Her swings became more controlled as she progressed, but she was far from the graceful figure she envisioned. She stumbled through the air, catching herself with hastily shot webs, each one a **** bid to avoid a crash.

Despite the rough start, Dick refused to give up. Each swing brought more confidence, and each web shot more precision. She was learning to adapt to her new abilities on the fly. The adrenaline rush, the wind against her face, and the sense of purpose all felt familiar yet exhilaratingly different. Just like swinging on the trapeze with the Flyings Graysons as a kid. Just minus the spider-webs and the whole "being a girl" thing.

Navigating towards the source of the sirens, Dick's determination grew. She might be in an unfamiliar body, with foreign powers, in a strange city, but some things never changed. She was a hero, no matter the form or place.

Blue and red lights flashed below. Pops ruptured the air. Gunshots were being exchanged between the squad car and the thugs racing away in a black van.