When Bruce finally gets back to the Manor, the sun has risen midway to its highest point. Obviously, travel to the...Lantern headquarters? isn't as instantaneous as it feels. Bruce files that information away for later, and brings the Batmobile to the sheer rock wall face that slides up to admit him into the entry corridor of the Batcave.
He parks the vehicle, and then climbs out, feeling a sting of embarrassment at how bright the green uniform the ring has clad him in is—it's a far cry from the sombre colours he's used to from his own getup.
His embarrassment grows when he turns to find Alfred at the computer, chair turned towards the car, casting a critical eye over him. "Master Bruce," he greets, "you look...different."
Bruce keeps his expression even. "I ran into some...unique trouble," he says, "this isn't exactly a change of my own volition."
"Ah."
"Actually..." Bruce hesitates; feeling the sudden, strange urge to fidget, "that's something I wanted to ask for your help with." The words feel like they're sticking in his throat—he's not exactly used to asking for assistance.
Alfred raises a brow, but doesn't say anything; a clear signal to continue. Bruce makes his way over to the chair, stopping beside it, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have...acquired a ring of presumably alien origins, which possesses unknown capabilities—though, so far, it's shown itself capable of generating a uniform, and allowing flight. And," he grimaces, "I can't seem to get it off."
Alfred frowns. When he speaks, his words are measured. "Master Bruce, how did you come into possession of this...ring?"
Bruce clears his throat. "I was following the lead on the arson case last night, when I noted what appeared to be a comet in the sky—however, it began to draw closer, eventually crashing near me, upturning the Batmobile. When I got out to investigate, I found that it was not a meteorite, but rather, some sort of alien spacecraft—the single occupant of which appeared to be dead. I accidentally disturbed their body when checking for a pulse, and the ring in question slipped off, and floated over to me, before managing to make its way onto my own hand." He uncrosses his arms, holding out his hand to allow Alfred to take in the ring, before explaining his encounter with Tomar-Re.
When he finishes, Alfred's expression is one of contemplation. "If you do decide to go along with this and join this...Lantern Corps," he says, "how will you balance it with your other obligations? You already have a civilian persona, as well as Batman."
"I'm not sure," Bruce admits, after a few beats. "I'm not sure if I want to accept, either."
"Perhaps a trial run, then," Alfred suggests, "for a few days, or a week, and then at the end of it, you can decide. I'm sure there are other people who the ring could choose."
Bruce offers a thin, but genuine, smile. "That sounds like a good idea," he says. "Bruce Wayne can take a week long vacation in some unspecified location, and Nightwing and Oracle can cover for Batman."
"Excellent plan, Master Bruce," Alfred says, "now, I do believe it's time for lunch soon—how about you put on something less...green, and then give Miss Barbara and Master Richard a call while I get that prepared?"
That manages to get a slight chuckle from Bruce.
It takes a while to figure out how to actually get the uniform off, and in the end, it's more luck than anything that leads him to bark at the ring to get rid of it. The uniform promptly fades out of existence, going from solid, unidentified material, to green light, and then disappearing entirely. Bruce makes a note to look into what, exactly, it's formed out of.
He briefly allows himself to feel irritation at the loss of his suit, which seems to have been destroyed when the ring created the Lantern uniform, before he grabs a change of clothes, pulling them on with relatively more ease than normal—it's rare for him to go a full night without at least getting some bruises.
After that, he makes his way upstairs, and does as Alfred suggested, calling Barbara, and then Dick, both of whom are, thankfully, free enough to pick up for him for a week. Both prod slightly as to his reasoning, but when he deflects their questions multiple times, they get the hint and leave it be. Bruce isn't, honestly, quite sure hot he'd explain the situation to them—Alfred is different, easier to reveal things to. In the end, he decides he'll tell them once he makes his decision.
Lunch is a quiet affair, with soup and sandwiches of excellent quality, as per usual. After that, Bruce has a meeting for Wayne Enterprises regarding the results of the recent prosthetics-related project, which leaves him with two legal pad pages of notes and follow-up questions for when he meets with the head of the project one on one. That done, he pays a visit to Arkham to check in on the renovations that Wayne Enterprises is funding.
He's just about to leave when he catches a snippet of conversation.
"—we can't afford to let Firefly out again," one voice says, snappish, sounding stressed. "Don't give me that look—I don't care what the psychiatrists say about him needing sunshine—"
Another voice cuts in. "If we keep him in solitary for too long, though, someone's going to notice—what happens if WE decides to stop funnelling money into Arkham? Half of us will lose our jobs!"
"Would you rather keep your job and go up in a crisp because some guy with a pyromania problem keeps finding ways to set things on fire, or go job hunting?" the first voice retorts; and then lets out a sharp exhale. "I gotta go—I have to check on Nygma."
That seems to be the end of the conversation, and Bruce remains in the shadows for a few more moments before slipping out of the asylum.
So, his hunch that it was an inside job was somewhat right—though it's a patient rather than a staff member that's been setting the fires. He chews the inside of his cheek, pondering a possible solution, before he pulls out his phone, dialling Lucius Fox's number.
"Hey, Lucius, listen—remember that fire-resistant coating you guys wanted to test out...? I think that there's a patient in Arkham who might be willing to help with that."