Chapter 504: The Seeker of Destruction
Bruce Wayne still sat before the main computer of the Batcave, his cowl pushed back, his face illuminated by the glow of a dozen screens. The data from Steppenwolf’s ship was still processing, translated by algorithms he had written specifically for Darkseid’s encryption protocols.
He had been there for seven hours.
The tea on the tray beside him had gone cold three hours ago. The sandwich Alfred had brought had been abandoned after two bites. Bruce’s eyes hadn’t left the screens.
Alfred Pennyworth stood behind him, his hands clasped behind his back, his expression the particular shade of concerned that he had perfected over decades of watching Bruce Wayne self-destruct in slow motion.
"Master Bruce," Alfred said, "it is three in the morning."
"I’m aware."
"Of course you are." Alfred moved to stand beside the console, his shadow falling across the screens. "You are aware of everything except, apparently, the need for sleep, nutrition, and basic human functioning."
Bruce’s fingers paused on the keyboard.
"I’ve been thinking," he said.
"A dangerous pastime, in my experience."
"About Arthur."
Alfred’s expression changed with a slight tilt of the head, and softening around the eyes. "Mr. Blackwynd," Alfred said."The Shadow Monarch should be a concern for monsters not you Master Wayne."
Bruce leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on the screens, but his focus elsewhere. Inside his own head, turning over thoughts like stones, looking for what was hiding beneath.
"He fights for this planet," Bruce said slowly. "For his family, for his friends." He paused. "A lot of things can be considered admirable about him."
Alfred waited.
"But in the end," Bruce continued, "all people are able to change, to go down a certain... unexpected path, whether by choice or not."
Alfred considered his words carefully. He had learned, over decades of service, that Bruce Wayne did not express concern lightly, when he worried, it was because he had seen something that others had missed.
"With all due respect, Master Wayne," Alfred said, his voice quiet but firm, "Arthur shouldn’t be your concern, or anyone’s."
Bruce turned to look at him.
"As far as I’m concerned," Alfred continued, "he is doing an excellent job at protecting this planet, alongside you and the Justice League." He paused. "Without asking for anything in return."
"You think I’m being paranoid." Bruce said calmly.
"I think you are being Bruce." Alfred’s voice was gentle. "You see threats where others see solutions. You prepare for disasters that might never come, you build contingency plans for friends, for allies, for people who would die for you... yes sometimes it bothers me."
"It’s kept us alive."
"It has also kept you alone."
Bruce turned back to the screens. The data continued to flow, maps of Apokolips, profiles of Darkseid’s Elite, schematics of ships and world engines that could crack planets open like eggs.
"No," he said quietly. "His intentions are sincere, I’m not questioning that."
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you questioning?"
Bruce was silent for a long moment.
"I’m worried about the ’what ifs.’"
"Ah." Alfred nodded slowly. "The ’what ifs.’ Those old friends."
"Other than the Monarchs, Darkseid, there are threats that are still out there." Bruce gestured at the screens at the endless stream of information, the hints of dangers they had barely begun to understand. "Things we don’t know about, things we can’t prepare for because we don’t even know they exist."
Alfred said nothing.
Bruce stood, walking away from the console, toward the glass case that held the Robin suit. He stopped in front of it, his reflection ghosting across the glass.
"I don’t believe that Arthur is the apex predator here," he said. "But he is certainly very dangerous."
"You have said as much about Superman."
"Superman has limits, he has a moral code that he won’t break, even when breaking it would be easier. He has a fortress, a family, a planet." Bruce turned back to face Alfred. "Arthur has shadows, an army that answers only to him, a power that comes from death itself."
"And yet," Alfred said, "he uses that power to protect the living and his family."
"For now."
The words hung in the air.
Alfred studied Bruce’s face, the lines around his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers were slightly curled.
"I can’t possibly imagine a reality where he is an enemy," Bruce said. His voice was softer now, almost reluctant. "This planet wouldn’t survive."
"You don’t know that."
"I know enough." Bruce walked back to the console, but didn’t sit. He stood before the screens, his shadow stretching across the cave floor. "He already has a monstrous army, with a monstrous strength. And yet..."
"And yet?"
"He is wary of another Monarch." Bruce’s eyes narrowed. "The other one, the one he’s been trying to locate for some time now, the dragon one."
Alfred folded his arms. "That seems prudent. Even the strongest warrior respects his enemies."
"It gives me a feeling," Bruce said slowly, "that the other party might have an edge on him. Despite how confident Arthur is." He paused. "I do believe there are beings out there, beings we haven’t seen, haven’t heard of, haven’t even imagined, that are capable of controlling him."
Alfred was silent for a long moment.
Then he said, "That is a lot of ’ifs,’ Master Wayne."
Bruce met his eyes.
"It’s good to have ifs."
Alfred sighed, a sound that carried decades of patience, of frustration, of love that had learned to express itself through tolerance.
"And it is good to drink your tea while it is still hot sometimes," Alfred said. "It’s better than overthinking."
Bruce’s mouth twitched, almost a smile.
"I like iced tea."
Alfred stared at him.
"Of course you do," he said. "Of course you like iced tea, at three in the morning, in a cave. Surrounded by bats and surveillance equipment and the burden of the universe."
"It’s refreshing."
"It’s insufferable."
Bruce’s almost-smile widened by a fraction. He picked up the cold tea, looked at it, and set it back down.
"I’ll heat it up, just because you insisted." he said.
"You will do no such thing. You will sit there and drink it cold, as punishment for your stubbornness." Alfred turned toward the stairs, then paused. "Master Bruce."
"Yes?"
"Mr. Blackwynd is not your enemy, he may never be your enemy, and if he becomes your enemy..." Alfred looked back at him, his expression unreadable. "You will face that challenge when it arrives, not before."
Bruce watched him go then he picked up the cold tea and drank it.
It was, as he had said, refreshing.
.
.
.
.
Unknown Universe -
There are places between places.
Not voids, because voids are empty, these are the seams of reality, the spaces where not many could reach in the universe. Light does not reach here. Time does not pass here. The laws of physics are suggestions.
And in this place, fire still burned.
It wrapped around a single man suspended in the darkness, coiling across his shoulders, at his face, spiraling around his clenched fists. The flames were red and gold.
The figure’s eyes were closed.
He floated in the center of the inferno, his body perfectly still, his breathing impossible to detect. His red hair moved in currents that didn’t exist. His cloak was dark, tattered drifted around him like smoke.
The figure’s lips moved.
"I have crossed the ashes of a hundred worlds."
The fire pulsed around him, responding to his voice, responding to his will.
"And yet."
His eyes remained closed, his expression did not change, but the fire grew brighter, grew hungrier.
"That one still eludes me.. The one who carries the concept of Destruction..."
The flames roared.
"I have felt his presence across existence.. I have tasted his power.." The figure’s jaw tightened. "He thinks himself hidden.. He thinks himself safe from me."
A pause.
"He is wrong."
The fire exploded outward, a supernova of red and gold that illuminated the void for a single moment. The figure’s eyes opened, reptilian, slitted and very ancient.
The irises burned with the same fire that surrounded him, but deeper somehow, darker and more focused. They were not the eyes of a man, they were not the eyes of anything that had ever been human.
His lips curved.
The smile of a predator who had finally caught the scent after a hunt that had lasted longer than most species had existed.
"There you are," he said.
The fire purred.
"Destruction."
/-\
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