Chapter 1670: Bruce Wayne and the Magic Stone (Part 14)

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The nights in Gotham's Inner World are colder, without the stifling heat of the present outer world's summer, more like the old Gotham—a cold rain falling from start to finish, making the entire city resemble a pencil drawing soaked in water, its contours eroded away in the damp.

The spire of Rodriguez College, floating high in the sky, is enshrouded by damp mist. Opening the window at midnight, the misty clouds surge in like schools of fish.

A small crack in the dormitory window lets in strands of mist continuously, like ghostly hands, the condensed droplets on the glass blinking like eyes opening and closing.

From the endless white mist emerges a warm golden light, reminiscent of the first light at dawn. The dense clouds continually disperse, revealing a sky blue tinged with purple, as the clouds slowly darken and arrange themselves into eerie, complex patterns. On closer inspection, the clouds form a pair of massive blue eyes.

"Ah!"

A figure sits up in bed, screaming, then gasping for breath.

Little Bruce tightly grasps the rail next to the bed with one hand and touches his forehead with the other, covered in cold sweat.

"What was that?"

Little Bruce mutters to himself, confused. Suddenly, his room door is knocked on, forcing him to kick off the tangled sheets and get out of bed to answer it.

"Are you okay? I just heard a scream," says Barry, holding a candlestick and looking concerned from the dark doorway at Little Bruce. But upon seeing Little Bruce's face, he gasps, "Good heavens, your face is as white as paper. What's wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Little Bruce takes a deep breath to calm himself, releases the tightly held doorknob, and says, "I'm fine, come in."

Barry seems hesitant to believe Little Bruce would let him into his room so easily. As Little Bruce turns to walk back, he says, "Do you really want to yell in the hallway so the whole grade can hear? It's two in the morning."

Barry looks at Little Bruce's back, clearly visible in the candlelight. The cotton pajamas on Little Bruce are soaked with a large patch on the back, likely from a night terror.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Barry enters the room quietly, closing the door and placing his slippers by it, stepping onto the soft carpet barefoot.

The dormitories at Rodriguez College are single rooms, designed for quiet study and knowledge acquisition, but even the magically expanded spire does not provide infinite space. Therefore, the single student rooms and the Director's office are two-story lofts, unlike traditional duplex apartments. The bedroom is downstairs, while built-in bookshelves and a desk for reading and studying are upstairs.

Each single room has a large floor-to-ceiling window stretching from the first to the second floor. At the window's base on the first floor is a small sitting area with two armchairs and a coffee table, perfect for inviting classmates over for afternoon tea.

Little Bruce and Barry sit down facing each other by the window. Little Bruce pulls out two snack packs from a side cabinet and pours them onto a fruit plate. Barry is surprised; he doesn't see Little Bruce as someone who would share his food.

Indeed, as soon as they sit, Little Bruce picks up a pumpkin seed, bites it, and his expression shows he's still shaken. Under the moonlight streaming through the massive window, his black curly hair ends glisten with sweat.

"What exactly happened, Bruce?" Barry looks anxious, caring for Little Bruce despite finding him disagreeable when hurt.

"I had a nightmare," Little Bruce breathes deeply, his pale face making him look particularly vulnerable and shattered, his tone softer, "Ever since my parents' funeral, I haven't had nightmares."

"You..." Barry opens his mouth but ends up saying just, "Condolences."

"I saw a pair of eyes," Little Bruce bites the first pumpkin seed harshly, not eating it but tossing it aside and picking up another.

His voice deepens, more stable than before, but still tinged with puzzlement, "A pair of blue eyes, bluer than the sky, I saw many clouds, a complex pattern, and maybe, possibly, holy light."

Barry immediately widens his eyes, inhaling sharply, and stares intently at Little Bruce's face, "Did you see an angel?!"

"No, no distinctive wings, and he didn't speak to me, but when the clouds parted for a moment, I saw golden light pour down, that's the divine power of heaven."

"How do you know?"

Little Bruce's face shows irritation again, but perhaps shock, fear, and confusion make him more approachable as he patiently explains, "I think anyone with normal intelligence could see, I'm not from this world. I'm another space's Bruce Wayne, do you think what brought me here was ordinary?"

"This..." Barry takes a full half-minute to recover from the shock, then muses, "No wonder... no wonder you look almost exactly like Bruce Wayne, even a bastard child should look a bit different."

"So what Professor Schiller said in class about someone having early contact with an angel, and you coming to this space, are connected, right?"

"Obviously."

"Was it that angel who brought you here?"

"I can't be sure." Bruce clearly needs someone to confide in, not to vent but to clarify his thoughts through spoken words.

He briefly recounts his encounter with Constantine and details about the admission process, "I was sorting my father's belongings when I saw a huge bat pass by the attic window. At that moment, I felt something stir inside me. I don't know if it was fear, but it felt more like an exhilarating anchor."

"Bat, yes, just a bat, I've often extracted myself from the foolish world, but not like ordinary people who dream of being a carefree bird, but a bat."

"When I saw that bat, a thought sprouted in my mind, but before I could think carefully, the bat turned mid-air and crashed into the attic glass, and my fantasy completely vanished."

Little Bruce sighs softly, "I didn't expect the bat to be so foolish, but as it slid down the glass, I noticed it seemed to be holding something, and then Alfred picked it up downstairs."

"We read the admission letter it brought together. Alfred thought it was very dangerous, and we should destroy the letter immediately, but having witnessed magic's wonders, I thought we should give it a try."

"Alfred drove me to the agreed location by the Gotham River, and then I only saw a flash of golden light, and next, I was in this school."

Barry, catching the repeated word in his story, probes, "Golden light?"

"I didn't see it clearly, so I can't confirm whether the light that took me, the one I saw through the magic array, and the one in today's dream were the same, but they were all golden."

"I think it's very likely that the angel you saw brought you here, but the question is why he would do that."

Little Bruce purses his lips, clearly deep in thought, while Barry murmurs thoughtfully, "Remember what Professor Schiller said? All your magical talents might be illusions given by angels and devils, and you understood the Divine Power Runes from the start..."

"That means I was chosen by an angel, but why me?"

Both fall silent, unable to answer. Barry, trying to break the silence, changes the topic, "You said you saw a pair of blue eyes, what kind of blue eyes?"

"Hard to describe," Little Bruce speaks vaguely, pausing to think carefully, "I can't remember the details, I just remember those eyes were very blue."

"Like your eyes?"

Little Bruce freezes, feeling like he grasped something important but can't pinpoint it. He reaches out and touches one of his eyes with a finger, then falls silent for a long time.

"I won't let him control me," Little Bruce takes a deep breath and says, "Whether he's a devil or an angel, they're all fools, and any plans they have for me won't succeed."

Suddenly, Little Bruce stiffens, jerking backwards uncontrollably, then emits a short "uh."

Barry can see, in the less than two seconds of his stupor, sweat soaks through the thick cotton pajamas, even flowing along his veins. Little Bruce seems petrified, gripping the chair's armrest and trembling uncontrollably.

Barry rushes to support him, and when Little Bruce regains his freedom, he looks like he was just pulled from water. Barry, grasping his arm anxiously, asks, "What happened? What did you see?"

Little Bruce gasps for breath, speaking in a trembling voice, "Demons and angels, under their glorious thrones are piles of human bones."

Little Bruce's grip on the armrest tightens, his body shaking as if he might faint, and Barry has to pat his back to help him breathe. After a while, Little Bruce squeezes out a few words through clenched teeth.

"They extract human souls, grind their bones, and use their skulls as fire pits. They unscrupulously exploit and torment humans."

"And under that throne built of human heads, I saw... my parents."

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Next Chapter =>Chapter 1671: Bruce Wayne and the Magic Stone (Fifteen)