Dear Diary,

Today, men in white coats told me my whole life had been fictional!

Actually, scratch the dear diary thing, I haven’t done that in a while, and it feels pretty weird to do it again. The other part can stay though--the part about how there were men in white coats trying to convince me I’m not actually real. It’s not the worst thing I’ve had said to me, but, you know! Still not cool. So not the first thing you want to hear when you wake up in a strange place, you know? Somebody needs to talk to these guys about their bedside manner.

[At 12:01, a minute after midnight – a minute after the Dark Hour – every television on the island switches on.

 

Grainy, flickering images like surveillance camera footage appear on the screen, most colors washed out to green and grey versions of themselves, but what the camera shows makes little sense. After all, why would someone have a surveillance camera in a cave? Or a tremendous computer screen with several desks worth of instrumentation and a massive, thronelike chair facing it? And what's that shadow coming from offscreen right? It looks like... a dinosaur?

 

The chair swivels around, slowly, to face the camera. There, sitting with his fingers steepled and a frown on his face, is Tim Drake. He's dressed in what seems to be an odd combination of ninja costume and Special Forces gear, and his eyes are glowing golden.]

 

Good evening, New Moore! And welcome. You're all about to get a sneak preview of a brand-new program tonight. I'm your host, Tim Wayne, and this is 'CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?'

 

[The computer screen behind him flashes with glowing text spelling out the title, and then shows hundreds of file folders being opened, thousands of documents having their security cracked and filling the screen with tiny, unreadable thumbnails.

 

He is smirking openly now.]

 

Any city has its share of secrets. Every person does too. And we're always snooping into them, always assuming that the little things you don't know are soooo important. That's bad enough. You know what's worse, though?

 

[He glances offscreen briefly, giving someone or something a significant look.]

 

Keeping secrets. That's what really hurts you. What worms into your lives, breaks apart your relationships, makes you hide, paranoid, in some...

 

[He lets out a brief, exasperated breath, and his voice turns bitter and sarcastic for a moment.]

 

… some 'Fortress of Solitude,' some hole in the ground, thinking that it's necessary, it's vital that this never gets out. Who could like you if they knew? How would you be safe?

 

But the truth is that hiding things makes people suspicious. Honesty makes you safe. You're hard at work bricking yourself up, driving people away, can't you see that? You're so obsessed with secrets that you ignore everyone, so of course, nobody likes you in the first place.

 

[That last sentence is almost a yell, and the yellow light in his eyes flares brightly.]

 

And you've got to learn. You just have to, for your own good, before you all turn into twisted shadows of your own... fathers.

 

[He grins, a wide, manic grin.]

 

SO! That's why we're all here tonight! To strip away these senseless barriers you're building, and to Reveal. The. Truth! To spill every secret anyone in this worthless place has hoarded, and then, as our Grande Finale...

 

[One deep breath, then another, and he leans back, calm again, as the camera zooms in for a close-up on those glowing eyes and the amused twitch of his lips.]

 

I'll show you what a real secret looks like.