A/N: This story takes places in the same Universe where it includes the stories of my fanfictions 'Batman: Dark Realm' and 'Superman: Redemption'.

Suddenly the blackness is everywhere and his lungs are full of fire. Is this a dream? No. It hurts too much for it to be a dream. Which way is up?, he thought. He's drowning the deeper depths of water. There he saw, a mottled sunlight. He reaches his hand out as if holding the sun at his palm. Now his limbs burn as he pushes up, towards the light, towards life. Up.

He bursts out, awakening from his bed. Steadily, he took heavy breaths. He looks around, coming to the realisation he's in his bedroom. He is beyond doubt he was involved in an important case. In here, it's like a paradise. The bright sunlight gleaming past the curtains; might've been what awoken him from his dream. Was the important case a dream? He can't tell by looking everywhere as if he has a million eyes around his body. Then a sound of a door opening prompted him to turn to his left: a figure dressing herself. Present glance: he sees her backside.

"Hi sweetie"

Its feminine voice surprised him. Not really because it is a female. He knew it is a female based on body structure and familiarizing its appearance with something he saw beforehand.

The figure slowly turned, fully dressed. "You're finally awake", she said.

He lightly chuckles in an awkward way in response because he's still processing where he is.

"You fainted in one of your meetings", she said. "A safe trip back to Wayne Manor was executed so you could take your immediate rest as you deserved".

"Deserved?", he said in a questioning manner.

The woman went closer to the man's side, sitting on the bed, next to him. "Bruce, you were working too hard. It was making you delirious", the lady said. "I spread word you will not be involved in any ensuing meetings until you're clearly in good shape".

Bruce turns away from the woman she recognises, the woman he finds impossible to be with since what had transpired to their breakup. He shook until he being ready to speak. "Meeting?", Bruce asked.

The lady displayed a smile before turning around. "With the Senate regarding an issue needing to be resolved", she said.

This disclosure instantly brought up Bruce's thought this meeting might've been very important. "Claire, this is important. The Justice League is facing a problem that may lead to the prelude of a war with the government", Bruce said.

"War with the government?", Claire chuckled in response, amused Bruce would say that. "Nonsense, Bruce, you are the government. And the Justice League disbanded ages ago".

"What?", Bruce exclaimed.

"Long sleep must've made your suffer from paranoia from all these stressful meetings", Claire said. "I should remind you that you are the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic".

"Supreme Chancellor? That's absurd. Palpatine is the Chancellor", Bruce exclaimed.

"He was removed from office years ago after you exposed him as the monster who orchestrated the Clone Wars", Claire said. "Your actions were what made the Senate decide choosing you as Supreme Chancellor. You earned your rightful place of restoring justice and peace to the Universe, and to Earth; you completed the prophecy as the Chosen One".

Bruce seemed astonished he's hearing all this. "Could you give a minute to get my straight?", he requested. "I'm a little disoriented".

"'little' wouldn't be the word I'd use. You seem lost in track", Claire said before mentioning Bruce of food once the latter is ready to come outside.

Bruce then saw Claire leaving the room, finally providing him space. "What in devil is this world?", Bruce questioned to himself. He couldn't believe the man he saw as a father-figure would be a monster. He examines the area. His senses catch the paradise province, but it isn't supposed to be a paradise. Bruce has been here for decades. Gotham City does not shine its tone in fiber of light dazzling hope. It's always charred its own soul via dominated by hell.

He emerges from his bedroom, strolling along the corridor. He hasn't given himself time to think what's real and what's not. To him, the view of what he catches appears a dream. In an unhurried manner, Bruce continues to walk along the corridor in which darkness is very pale compared to the mounted radiant light. He twists his head, examining anything that would look different. So far from walking up to here, Bruce saw no difference. It's as if it was a normal day, and the feeling of his lungs burning and being drowned was all just a bad dream. Step by step, Bruce drew muffled footsteps. He catches a good scent nearby; cooking by Claire's definitely.

As Bruce moves a tread to emit another tread, he suddenly bumps into a warm sensation from one door like a buildup of pressure from that door had enough force to push Bruce to a wall, yet it hasn't, but it was warm, and it was cozy. And he hears and feels the cheerfulness of those warm hands spreading all over Bruce.

"Dad!", they all cried with bundles of pleasantries.

Bruce was immediately surprised. Of course, he is apprised of his own kids, and him as a father, but these little ones are distinguishably unknown to him. He never saw them in his life. Is he in another world? Is he dead? His breaths flutter.

"Mommy told us you weren't feeling okay?", one of the kids said to him.

"I-I...", Bruce stuttered. Without doubt he's never seen them but he feels the connection between them is relatively strong. "I wasn't feeling well. Don't worry, I am fine now". He lowers on knee down. "Go tell your mother I'm up". He subsequently hear these kids' excitement. Bruce wished he could share that excitement with them if he knew to-what-end he got himself into. Maybe it wasn't intentional. It's not a nightmare. It seems like it's all he ever wanted.

Children started bolting away.

Much to Bruce's surprise, the kids suddenly teleported themselves away. He would next hear their voices to another room where he hears Claire's voice telling the kids not to use their powers. If these kids are capable of doing teleportation, Bruce thinks if it's really true they are his kids.

Bruce arrived in the kitchen, overwhelmed with booms of excitement sprung from rousing expressions. He had never seen. Not merely faces, there are messages everywhere exhibiting a warm welcome for Bruce. And Claire Redfield is really the one cooking breakfast like she said she would. And there are so many kids. What has happened to his life? It's too much to comprehend. Especially learning that he's the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Too much responsibility, especially for a man who has an alter-ego.

Bruce begins gearing himself; wearing a suit. Though he doesn't know what he is now, he knows he has no choice but to follow along the stream of present activities. When he nearly gets fully suited, through the mirror and by the sound of a door opening, he perceives Claire coming inside.

Claire glances upon Bruce's dressing, surprised. "Aren't you using the clothing fabricator?", she asked.

Turning around with a questioned appearance, Bruce didn't understanding what that is. "Clothing fabricator?", Bruce said.

A light chuckle discharges from Claire in the way of responding to Bruce. "I forgot how silly you can be; losing track of time as though you see your life is complete but always strive to do better", she said, smiling.

Looking down, Bruce doesn't remember having a fabricator in his mansion. Some existent thing was added to his life. "Claire, what year are we in?", Bruce asked mildly, subsequent to looking straight at Claire.

Claire didn't say a word yet. She still has a fixed gaze at Bruce. "2053", she answered. Her smile soon turned down.

Learning the year, Bruce is extremely shocked. He's in the future. He's likely soared here by accident.

"2053", Claire muttered, which made her realise what it is today. "The day he died".

"Who?", Bruce asked.

She silently sighed prior to looking at Bruce. "Today marks the 10th Anniversary of Alfred's death", Claire divulged. "Spreading word that you will be taking rest wasn't just about your condition, it's about Alfred too. He died of natural causes".

"Alfred", Bruce murmured, turning away from looking at Claire.

Claire understood it would be the moment Bruce would desire personal space. She finally left the room.

Bruce sighs in frustration over learning his loyal butler's death. He was the closest thing to a father-figure; he cared for him; he watched over him since his parents' murder. Now he's gone.

Standing before the tombstone, Bruce feels lost. Alfred was the one person he can count on whenever he's at his lowest. Now his soul rests in the other side. The only thing Alfred left behind is his name inscribed on that stone. The year he dies, and Bruce never remembered it. "This isn't real", Bruce claims. He continued staring at the tombstone; all his thoughts narrowing to that name, a great significance. He can feel Alfred's body buried in there. He's tempted to dig it out, see with naked eyes and prove himself the belief he is in some kind of made-up reality is a delusion.

"Thought I'd find you here", Claire said, approaching Bruce. Ending up beside him, Claire steadily reforms herself in appearance, as well as exhaling deeply. She tunnels directly to that tombstone, mostly contemplating Alfred in her head. "All the things he did for you. He raised you to be the man he wanted you to be. His greatest gift for you".

He briefly looked at Claire prior to looking a patch of grass with that tombstone sticking out. He's empty of words as though his head is a void. He then heard an immediate whoosh glided behind them. Bruce promptly turned around. Two faces familiar, not very hard to recognise even though one of them has been shown to progressively age. "Diana? Clark?", Bruce exclaimed, sounding joyed. Despite the change in costumes, their faces are never difficult to tell in an instantaneous way. Diana's suit isn't very different; red armor body plate that bears a gold eagle-shaped breastplate, and a matching golden W-shaped belt plate. The only difference is the blue briefs with the stars is replaced with a blue skirt, and the red robe around her backside according to this era. As for Superman's, instead of the blue and red attire, and the cape, it's all replaced with a black and white attire.

"Same reason, Supreme Chancellor Wayne", Diana responded straight away.

Surprised Bruce over hearing her tone. It's like she's a different person or that she doesn't know Bruce anymore. He recalls their relationship was there. They were close. The astonishment is greater when Superman turned his head away. Before he would ask, he felt Claire suddenly pulling him out of the scene.

Claire and Bruce moved far away from Wonder Woman and Superman.

"It's like they don't know me anymore", Bruce commented.

Claire sighs, stopping in front of Bruce. "Look, I may not know what's buzzing in your head that you're apart of that thing, but a lot has happened since the Justice League disassembled", she said.

Bruce glanced at Wonder Woman and Superman, perceiving them both having just flew away.

Claire too was aware Superman and Wonder Woman had left, though she was staring at Bruce. "I think's it's for the best. The Universe needs you at your best strength", she said.

Bruce looked at Claire as she finally moves away, leaving the cemetery. He afterwards glances at where his parents Thomas and Martha's tombstones once were there. He finds a funny impression their tombstones aren't there. Maybe he's hallucinating. His mind is probably playing tricks on him. Their tombstones are definitely here.

Wayne Manor, Gotham City

In the Wayne Mansion, Bruce showered quickly. It's as though a black cloud is lying just to the right of his mind, blocking the view. There's going to be a real simple answer to this, Bruce tells himself. The way Superman and Wonder Woman doesn't share a friendly mannerism with him to kindle their trinity bond. There are mysteries. His relationship with Claire Redfield is an unknown thing too. He was sure their last interaction was when they fell out and divorced.

Following his shower, Bruce comes to a room. As he walked towards the concealed entrance to the Batcave, he has a strange sensation which goes as soon as it starts and before he can identify it.

Reaching the covered passage, Bruce passes his hand over the electronic eye that operates the entrance. Like always, the entrance would open. He created this passage; the passage guided to what lurks in his conscious; the bat scowling in the darkness awaiting for its next prey as soon as Bruce wears its skin of blackness.

That all snapped into a blank stage as nothing happens to revealing the passage to the Batcave. A fault? Unlikely. There're back-up generators and any serious malfunction sets off an alarm. Bruce looks closer at the tiny eye. Between the shelves, he perceives with visual perception way isn't there. He found it impossible. It was totally impossible. Bruce manages to check the wash of panic that appears from somewhere deep and dark there's an answer. There's always an answer. In spite of believing answers, Bruce discovers the door doesn't budge. It's too heavy. He would ask Superman for a little assistance to open it. No. Something tells him these world has twisted their friendship somehow. Maybe he and Claire changed the system, filled in the old eye. It's wise to keep changing security measures, especially considering being the face of peace and justice across the whole galaxy.

"Claire, Claire, come here", Bruce called. "The entrance to the Batcave seems to be faulty".

Claire enters the room, finding Bruce struggling with something. "I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say-", Claire said before being shut by Bruce.

"The entrance to the Batcave", Bruce addressed. "It's sealed up".

"Batcave?", Claire said, chuckling. "Bruce you sound like you are in the gothic movies? The Batcave, you say?".

"That's right, Claire, the Batcave", Bruce said gently. "It's a big hole in the ground with a big car that's all black. You once rode on it a few times, remember?".

She gave an awkward smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about", Claire said. "You're not on drugs, are you? Oh wait, you can't".

"I'm serious, Claire", Bruce said. "There was a big cave beneath the mansion where I operated as the Batman".

"The Batman?", Claire said in a way of feeling amused. "Bruce, I-".

"Son, you sound upset?"

Bruce almost tripped, hearing that voice. He slides an eye past Claire, thinking who that voice might be. It can't be him, Bruce knew it to be an illusion. He looked past Claire, wanting to believe they are lies infecting his cortex. He looked past, Claire proving himself he is suffering from some kind of toxin that's making him see desired things. As he got a gook look at two coming from the door into this room, Bruce gasped, and backed away from Claire. They're real. He can sense their existence in this world is real.

"Is something the matter?"

"No. No. It's impossible. No. It can't be you. It can't be", Bruce exclaimed, pitching backwards. They're both old but looks don't hide the fact their faces resemble that of two people that brought forth the knight in Bruce's darkness. Whatever series of images are putting right before Bruce seemed real; his own fantasy fabricating the appearance of two long lost people. It's unbelievable. He watched them die when he was a little boy in a helpless course of action. Heart pounding rapidly as though he is on the verge to shed tears; he's already sad when seeing them.

"Son, you look like you've seen a ghost?"

It's his father's voice perching inside his head. He really is Thomas Wayne. And the woman at the right is really Martha Wayne. They've very real. Does this mean Batman all this time was a myth, an urban legend cultivated by Bruce's subconscious? So Batman never existed at all because his parents were never killed in that night?

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter.