A/N: Hey everyone! I'm Bludhaven_Knight_A37, or BKA37. I'm just an aspiring writer with a bunch of stories to tell. After falling in love with "Arrow", I've been wondering: what would the Arrowverse's Nightwing look like? Here's what I hope to explore! I'm by no means providing a definitive Arrowverse Nightwing, but this is a topic that I'm curious to see unfold. If you could leave me some feedback, it'd help me with my writing, but more importantly, it'd let me know if y'all are interested in seeing the Knight of Bludhaven in the Arrowverse. Other than that, I'll see y'all in the next issue!

Newspapers floated in the breeze as a lone figure dressed in red jumped from rooftop to rooftop. He was no stranger to the rooftop express- in fact, in this city, it was probably safer than strolling the streets. Everything was quiet, but that's exactly when everything's dangerous. That's something Oliver had taught him about patrolling Starling City, and who knows how much more dangerous it was in the city you never want to stay in: Bludhaven.

It's not like Arsenal wanted to be in Bludhaven for no reason. In fact, he would've much rather just stay in Starling City. The streets were familiar, and though there'd be an increased work load with Oliver, Felicity, and Diggle being in Central City, he knew he could handle most any street thug, whether he was downtown or in the Glades.

Still… Sin had contacted him. Said something about Vertigo beginning to pop up in Bludhaven. That crazy drug was something far too personal for the members of their team, and he had to at least check it out. He owed it to his friend to check it out.

Arsenal hadn't been in Bludhaven long- he'd gotten off the bus a few hours ago, checked into a seedy motel a few minutes after that, and began patrolling immediately. He couldn't find any evidence of any drug deals… but then again, he couldn't find any evidence of, well, anything. That was weird, to say the least. Suspicious.

He was beginning to consider calling Felicity for help when he hit a jackpot. A long dealer handing out what looked like a packet of pills to a couple of teenagers. From his vantage point on the rooftop he couldn't tell what the color of the pills were, but whether they were Vertigo or not, he figured he could try and get something out of the dealer. Taking an arrow from his quiver, he notched it on his bow's drawstring and aimed for the bag…

"This is some top-quality stuff," the dealer grinned to the teenagers. "Well worth the high price, guaranteed."

"I thought Vertigo was a Starling thing?" one of the teenagers asked. "And wasn't the guy behind it taken down by that vigilante in the hood?"

"Ah, but that's what you don't get about drugs, kids," the dealer remarked. "The Count's gone, but his legacy lives on. And this Vertigo- Vertigo 3.0- it's even better than the last kind of Vertigo they had in Starling. So, if you just show me the money-"

There was a whoosh in the air as the arrow flew from Arsenal's bow and struck the bag, taking it out of the dealer's hand and pinning it to the ground. Startled, the teenagers made a run for it, disappearing into the night streets. Meanwhile, the dealer quickly pulled a handgun from his inner coat pocket, waving it around as he looked for the source of the shot.

"An arrow!?" the dealer yelled. "What're you doing here in Bludhaven, psycho? Getting tired of your darling Starling?"

While the dealer looked for the unknown archer, Arsenal flipped his way down to ground level. Quickly notching another arrow, he shot it at the dealer, knocking the gun from the dealer's hand. He then advanced on the scowling dealer with another arrow notched, pointed straight at the dealer's head, and growled in a deep voice, "The Vertigo. Where are you getting it?"

"Screw you, kid!" the dealer spat. "You're not that Arrow guy- You're just his little sidekick."

"And you're about to be a pin cushion," Arsenal said back. "Now tell me-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, he heard the rustle of feet, and a group of thugs wearing leather jackets and brandishing assault rifles appeared from behind him. Thinking quickly, he dove out of their opening volley, taking shelter behind a nearby a nearby dumpster. As the bullets pounded the dumpster, Arsenal notched an explosive arrow. He knew that he'd have one shot- one shot to blow the explosive arrow in front of them, to distract them and give him a better vantage point. Or at the very least, to a different cover spot.

"Looks like this is it for you, kid!" the dealer taunted, grabbing his gun and aiming it at Arsenal. He knew he couldn't shoot the explosive arrow at the dealer- it was too much firepower for one guy. The dealer was about to pull the trigger as Arsenal began changing the arrow. He might not make it in time.

"Finally, some action!" a confident voice suddenly said. The sudden outburst, ringing from nowhere, stopped everyone in their tracks. Something flew through the air and embedded itself in the dealer's hand, forcing him to drop the handgun in pain. It looked like a metallic bird.

Suddenly, a figure dropped behind the gang of thugs with assault rifles. Arsenal couldn't see him from behind his dumpster cover, but he could hear the results. Grunts of pain and guns firing into the air, bullets hitting nothing as thugs dropped to the ground. When the last body dropped, Arsenal peeked out from his cover to see a man in all black. He had some padding on his shoulders, arms, and shins, and what looked like two sticks protruding from his back. He had short hair with bangs that stuck slightly outward, and a mask not unlike Arsenal's, but black and with points from the ends. On his chest was a symbol: a blue bird.

"Slow down, Speedy! You haven't even been in my city for a few hours, and already you're getting in trouble, huh?" the figure asked.

Bewildered, Arsenal asked, "Who are you?"

Instead of answering, the man just smiled. "I'll answer that some other time. The haven's still too quiet for a typical night. Stay out of trouble in my city, Arsenal."

And before Arsenal could say another word, the figure flipped away and into the darkness, leaving the red archer with only one thought: who was that guy?