Granted, being in Darrow has opened up Oliver's world to a whole host of bizarre and strange things, but this has to be the one thing that is a little more ridiculous than the rest. Everything else seems so separate, easy to distinguish as other.

This is him, in some strange way. Another version of him in another world somewhere, living a similar but divergent life.

"Barbara stopped by the club," he starts, voice low and measured. "She knows all about me. What I do. Because there's some...some version of me running around in her world."