Bruce had had a bit of a long night. Not a bad night, just a long night. Done some casework, had a patrol, now back at the cave and... well, doing more casework. Just because it's been 'long' doesn't mean he's done. He has a well-documented tendency to stay at this stuff for way too long, alright, and he knows it, but is that going to stop him? No, not at all.
He'll rest when it's done, okay? He can get by on very little sleep, and often does. So yes, it's kind of an ungodly hour of the night, but he's got no intention of moving from in front of the Batcomputer until he's done with what he's working on. ...Problem is, the universe seems to have a different plan in mind.
Look, Bruce has dealt with magic before. Seen it, experienced it. Alien stuff too, weird technology, all sorts of strange things. He's even aware of the existence of the multiverse (though he... sort of tries not to think too hard about it, for existential reasons). So he's not completely blindsided by the weird, glowy portal that suddenly opens in the middle of thin air and dumps a figure out onto the Batcave floor. He's only partially blindsided by it.
But still, here's him caught with his cowl down - metaphorically and literally - and a stranger dumped from who-knows-where in a heap on his sanctuary's floor. That's definitely an added complication on an otherwise pretty run-of-the-mill late night, isn't it?
"Are you alright?" he asks, standing out of his chair to approach the figure cautiously, trying to take stock of who - or what - he might be dealing with right now.
