> "They call it brooding. I call it calculating.
The silence isn't sadness. It's strategy."
— Bruce Wayne, written in invisible ink on a cave wall
---
[Location: Gotham City – Mid-Post-BvS/DCU Timeline]
It rained.
Of course it rained.
In Gotham, rain was the default weather preset for trauma.
And beneath it, on a rooftop above Crime Alley, stood Bruce Wayne—cape unmoving, cowl dripping, soul exhausted.
He wasn't chasing anyone.
Not tonight.
Tonight was… recon. Of the soul.
---
[Morning – Batcave Status Update]
Alfred (through comms):
> "Master Wayne, you've not been home in two days. Shall I warm the guilt blanket?"
Bruce:
> "Analyzing residual distortion signatures. Earth-Prime was pinged by a non-local essence field. Could have been Shadowfall fallout."
Alfred:
> "Or it could have been another Tuesday in your life. Regardless, I'm steeping the Earl Grey."
Bruce (pausing):
> "Add honey."
Alfred (genuinely stunned):
> "My word. Growth."
---
[Midday – The Work that Never Stops]
He spent five hours building a non-dimensional scanner to track metaphysical anomalies… while listening to Chopin.
He didn't smile.
Didn't frown.
He existed with efficiency.
The scanner blinked once.
A false positive. Or a warning.
He typed a note into the Shadow Group Log:
> "Reality ripple at 38.2° N, 87.9° W. Small. Quiet.
But quiet things tend to scream later."
Then he ran 3,124 predictive simulations before lunch.
---
[Chat Ping – Group Idle Check-In]
Bruce (direct message to MC):
> "I've reviewed Buggy's cult files.
Also: Deadpool is corrupting half the lounge protocols."
MC:
> "All expected. Let them have their chaos. You handle the lines they'll never see."
Bruce:
> "I already am."
Kazuma (jumping in):
> "Does Batman even own pajamas?"
Deadpool:
> "He wears trauma to bed."
Esdeath:
> "I would shatter him into confession."
Batman:
> "Try it."
Deadpool:
> "...I just felt that glare through the chat box."
---
[Evening – The Cave, Alone]
He walked past every failed project.
Every suit. Every failure. Every echo of a family that only exists in photographs and cautionary tales.
He paused at the case holding Jason's shattered mask.
The case that whispered every time the wind hit it wrong.
> "You could have saved him."
He said nothing.
He reached into his belt.
Pulled out a small device: a flickering, hand-sized holo from the Chat System.
A still image of the team.
Buggy screaming. Deadpool photobombing. Saitama holding a sign that says "I am not involved."
And Bruce—at the edge of the image, cape flaring.
Watching.
Always watching.
---
[Final Log – Private, Encrypted]
> "They're all wild cards. Liabilities. Disasters.
And somehow… they're holding the line.
Maybe I don't need a Bat-Family for this.
Maybe I need a Bat-network."
He stood beneath the cave ceiling.
Darkness above.
Silence around.
Resolve within.
---
End of Chapter 24: Bruce Wayne