2 days after Blackgate Riots.
December 27, 2013
Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne's bedroom
10:00 A.M
Everything hurt.
His body ached, bruises and skin welt's were covering his entire body.
His left shoulder was sore from the bullet he took shielding Gordon from Branden's gunfire.
His entire torso was in constant agony, no thanks to the sheer kinetic energy he took from a TN-1 enhanced Bane.
It was a miracle he only walked away from that with cracked ribs.
Well aside from being about to drop dead from Exhaustion.
Alfred was happy that he only walked away with bruises and cracked ribs.
Speaking of Alfred he was standing next to him, placing down overbed table on top of his lap.
"The leftover Christmas Ham for you sir, mixed in with scrambled eggs, I reheated it to adequate levels Master Bruce. It'd be a shame for the Ham to go to waste sir."
"Thank you Alfred" Bruce got out tiredly.
(Bruce Wayne – Roger Craig Smith)
Grabbing the Knife Fork handed to him by Alfred, he ate.
It tasted great despite the reheat.
It'd be the last good meal Bruce would have in a while.
Dec 27. 2023
Wayne Manor, 12:00 P.M.
Bruce Wayne's bedroom
"Master Bruce please, continue your rest recovery, Gotham's criminals will not be so bold to try anything nefarious in the morning"
"I just simply want to check the batcomputer for any alerts Alfred-"
"Nonsense Master Bruce!" Alfred chastised.
"Such a task can be handled by Captain Gordon and the G.C.P.D. Please Master Bruce, rest, Blackgate is under control with no incidents as of late."
Yet.
"Okay Alfred." Bruce acknowledged.
"…Apologies for the increase in volume Master Bruce, the stress of your injuries during Christmas Eve are taking a heavy toll on me"
Bruce's gaze softened.
""It's fine Alfred."
"I'll try not to get punched by hulking masses of muscle next time."
A quip.
Acceptance of Alfred's apology.
"I do appreciate that Master Bruce, though a small part of me prefers you to avoid your nightly hobby".
He walked to the exit of the bedroom.
"If you need anything Master Bruce, simply call me, and I shall be there to assist you any way I can"
"Good night, and a pleasant dream to you Master Bruce."
"Er… in this case morning."
A chuckle escaped Bruce's throat.
"You too Alfred."
The door opened.
And It closed gently, without a sound.
And the room was left with silence.
Sunlight creeped in, through gaps of the curtains slivers of it threatening to eradicate. the dark void of Bruce's bedroom.
He stared at where Alfred once was.
Moments passed, he turned his gaze to the celling.
A contemplative look crossed his features.
I should got some sleep.
Bruce closed his eyes.
And dreams took him.
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
"Good hunter, may you find worth in the waking world."
His eyes opened wide, in alert.
Scanning for the source of the voice…
He stared.
He blinked.
He stared again.
He blinked another time.
…This wasn't his bedroom
The white, gray, sunlight that barely made it's way in was now yellow, oppressively large and right in front of him.
He looked up to see clouds and a sky, not a dark roof.
He looked around to the drywall of his bedroom, gone they were, replaced by a skyline of gothic buildings.
Instead of a soft bedroom were oppressive buildings, claustrophobic and sharp, with dark paint or minerals used in the buildings construction.
The familiarity being welcoming but unsettling.
Because this wasn't Gotham.
He looked down, to check for his bed.
He was perched on a gargoyle.
His bat pajamas (a comedic gift from Alfred) were replaced with…
My suit…
More specifically. The bat suit, but it was pristine, as if he had not gone through the abuse he received during Christmas Eve.
He examined much more closely.
He grabbed his cape, solidifying in the process.
it was no longer shredded, cut with little to big cuts in it.
Letting go, softening, he then inspected his armor.
Gone were the bullet holes on his left armor pad, shoulder, abdomen or left thigh plate.
Scratches, dents in the armor, depressions.
All gone.
Another thing the Dark Knight noticed was his body.
It no longer ached, no longer groaned, nor sore, nor did it scream anymore.
He fully recovered, somehow…
Another thing was-
Electricutioner's shock gloves?
Were also with his suit, modified into his gauntlet.
He pressed on it.
The gloves roared, blue sparks covering his arms, reminding him that it was ready to serve.
He pressed again, it deactivated.
If Electricutioner's shock gloves are on me, then-
He looked at his waist, the Utility belt was on it.
My utility belt's on me.
The Dark Knight inspected the insides.
Batarangs. Deathstroke's gadget. Glue Grenades. Concussion detonators. Bat claw. Grapple. Smoke Pellets.
Except…
The cryptographic sequencer.
Damn.
He quite liked that one-
Wait-
Technology-
Alfred, The Bat computer-
Detective Vision.
The world turned blue, sky darkened, gone was the yellow of the Sun, now a bright blue, Detective Vision adjusting it. The Dark Knight then saw multiple moving blue orbs, thousands of them.
Thousands of people.
He turned it off.
But the Bat computer…
He pressed a button on his gauntlet.
Nothing.
He couldn't make contact with it, Batwing included.
Not even Alfred.
Unease rised in the Dark Knight's belly, worry arose, not of being alone, but of Alfred's wellbeing.
He compartmentalized for now.
Despite all of this, Detective Vision functioned normally.
The World's greatest Detective hummed.
Odd, Detective Vision only works with a clear signal to the Bat computer, despite a lack of it, it works fine… I can even switch to other modes….
Something definitely was not right.
This entire situation wasn't right, he should in be in bed… he was sleeping….
Dreaming.
But it felt real.
How the sun's rays irritated him, he could feel the wind blowing at such a point, he could even smell the stench of burning wood, gunpowder…
And burning flesh.
This could be a lucid dream.
The Dark Knight paused.
…
The Dark Knight raised his hand.
And slapped himself.
Anyone who would have seen this would have laughed at the hysteric sight.
No one did.
He hummed, taking in the sensory information compartmentalizing it for later.
Then there was the voice, someone spoke to him.
A voice… it belonged to a woman, accented… Baltic, woman may be of Russian origin, I can't specify a region, not with only a sentence… but it's distinct enough to easily identify anyone with.
She referred to me as "Hunter", that "I may find worth in the waking world"…
"Hmm…" the World's greatest detective compartmentalized again.
I have very little information to work with to make any inferences with, much less an assumption…
The World's greatest detective compartmentalized again for the 3rd time.
Here's what I do know. I maybe lucid dreaming, all my gadgets are on my person, Cryptographer Sequencer excluded, I can use Detective Vision, yet I'm unable to contact the Batcomputer, the Bat-wing or Alfred. And this may be the fault of a Baltic accented woman.
"Hmm…"
The World Greatest Detective looked up.
He needed knowledge.
He needed a library.
This place, similar to Gotham, (but exaggerated in architecture) was definitely a city.
So his chances for finding a library were high.
He surveyed the area around him again, looking for structures rectangular and large.
He saw none in this sector.
He gripped his cape, the molecules solidifying.
The Dark Knight lept.
He flew.
The Dark Knight's journey in Yharnam, having began.