"Shards of reality. This reality, since it seems to be kind of the epicenter of everything happening at the moment." He hums softly. "It's not that easy to explain, really. They don't have a particular shape, or they probably change for everybody that sees them. But losing them destabilizes this reality."

He held out his hand, bringing up his own brand. His was a line that came down to cover his ring and middle fingers, the way the lines on his Nightwing uniform did. "We've each got something like this. They each seem to take different forms, depending on the person. When we go looking for a shard, it works like a hot-and-cold compass. When you're facing the right way, it goes brighter so that you know what direction you're going." He grimaced, letting it fade. "Assuming, of course, it's not being hidden."