[Third Person's PoV]
"Like you've said, I may be able to control a lot of things in your life, but I can't control everything. That's sothing I agree with you on. That's why I wanted to know how you felt about the matter before pushing anything on you," Bruce finished, staring at Danny as if waiting for an answer.
Danny held Bruce's gaze for a long ti, unsure of how to respond.
Finally, he sighed, closing his eyes for a mont before gathering his thoughts. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do for . Trust , I understand, I really do. But I don't need therapy. I think you've misunderstood sothing. I might not fear death, but that doesn't an I want to just throw my life away or that I have so kind of death wish.
"I still have a lot I want to do, a lot I want to experience. When I do die—when my ti finally cos—I want to be able to face my parents, wherever they are, and tell them incredible stories about my adventures.
"So, while I may not fear death, what I do fear is dying an unsatisfactory death. One that feels aningless. If I can die saving just one life, then I can stand before my parents and my sister with pride, knowing I did the right thing.
"The reason I seem so indifferent about death is because, in the end, it cos for all of us—whether we want it to or not. I know that might sound unsettling coming from soone my age, but it's a truth I've co to accept." Danny explained, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked down, a faint but sincere smile on his face.
Bruce didn't react imdiately. His expression remained unreadable, but after a few seconds, he closed his eyes in quiet acceptance of Danny's words.
Then, without a word, he leaned forward and ruffled Danny's hair softly. "This world truly is an unfair place…" he murmured.
Bruce said nothing more. He straightened up and began heading toward the door.
"Get as much rest as you need, Danny," he said as he exited the room. "Sorry for keeping you up past your bedti."
Danny ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix the ss Bruce had made, a puzzled expression on his face. "What was that?" he muttered.
Shaking his head, he left the office and made his way through the long, winding corridors toward his room. The mont he saw his bed, his eyes grew unnaturally heavy, and his body instinctively gravitated toward the soft mattress.
He didn't even bother changing out of his clothes before flopping onto the bed. Exhaustion took over, and within seconds, he was fast asleep.
---
Date: February 2nd
Ti: 4:11 PM
Location: Wayne Manor – Danny's Room
Danny groggily opened his eyes, turning his head to glance at the clock on his bedside table. "Wow… I slept for more than twelve hours," he mumbled, his voice hoarse from sleep.
Still unwilling to get up, he slid off the bed and sprawled onto the floor, face down on the carpet. "Alfred!" he called out in a muffled voice.
Silence.
"Be a dear and carry to my duties… I'm feeling too lazy to move," he mumbled to himself in lazy amusent.
After a few seconds, he let out a dramatic groan, finally pushing himself off the ground. "Fine…" he muttered, dragging himself toward the bathroom for a much-needed shower to wake up and start his day.
…
An hour later…
Danny sat in the Batcave, enjoying a light snack Alfred had prepared. He glanced at the butler with teary eyes and said, "You know the saying, 'Not all heroes wear capes'? Well, I fully agree. Sotis, they just need a three-piece suit with a magnificent tie."
Alfred smiled and bowed elegantly. "I appreciate the complint, young master Daniel."
Bruce spun around in his chair, fixing Danny with a stern look. "Alright, let make one thing clear. While I won't stop you from doing your hero work, I'm not allowing it while you're injured. Once you're fully healed in two days, the prohibition will be lifted. That is the one thing I will not budge on."
Danny nodded. "That's reasonable. I'll comply."
Nearby, Dick was in the middle of his workout when he looked over and asked, "You know you should be resting, right? So why are you here?"
"For training, obviously," Danny retorted, dusting off his hands before placing his empty plate back on the trolley.
Dick sighed. "What part of 'you should be resting' are you failing to understand? Your injuries could heal wrong because of how fast you're regenerating. Moving too much could ss that up."
Danny smirked. "Ah, you misunderstand . I'm not training my body—I'm training a new power I unlocked."
Dick and Bruce both frowned, exchanging a look before speaking in unison. "New power?"
Danny turned toward Alfred with a deadpan expression. "Are we sure Dick is adopted?"
Alfred chuckled, but Bruce cut in before it could go any further. "What new power are you talking about? Did this happen during your fight with the ghost hunter?"
Danny hesitated, blushing slightly as he looked away. "It happened when Dick got hurt…"
Dick chuckled in amusent. "Now, who's the one that loves who?"
Danny groaned. "Stick a sock in it."
"Ew, stop blushing. That's gross." Dick scoffed.
"I'm not blushing because I want to, alright?! I'm just embarrassed, that's all. It doesn't an anything," Danny shot back defensively.
Bruce, uninterested in their banter, cut straight to the point. "Demonstrate."
Danny exhaled, calming himself before shifting into his ghost form. He clenched his fist, focusing. Green ectoplasmic energy flared around his hand, growing wilder by the second—until suddenly, his fist combusted into vibrant green flas. A flickering aura of fire surrounded him as he concentrated.
"When Dick got hurt, I got really angry, and my ectoplasmic energy responded accordingly," Danny explained.
Bruce studied him carefully. "And do you rember what happened when you first used it?"
Danny nodded. "Yeah. Skulker exploded… or at least, I created an explosion the mont my fist touched him."
Bruce humd in thought. "We'll need to run so tests. We don't know how these flas behave or if they're even safe to use. They could be dangerous—they might even burn a person's soul."
Danny tilted his head in consideration. "I don't necessarily think so. I an, theoretically, I could affect soone's soul, but right now, I think I'm relatively safe."
Before they could question him further, Danny continued. "My regular ectoplasmic attacks already have so heat to them. All I really did was increase that temperature. Since my standard attacks don't burn souls, these flas shouldn't either.
"But don't get wrong—I'm not saying we shouldn't test them. We definitely should, just in case. I could be wrong. But… it feels like I'd need to make them burn way hotter—hotter than I can currently control—to actually damage soone's soul. As fragile as a soul might be, it has a kind of resistance, too."
Dick, still doing pull-ups, glanced over. "So, it's just an instinctual feeling? That your flas can't burn a soul?"
Danny nodded. "Kinda? Like I said, I feel like if I really wanted to burn soone's soul—to hurt their essence—the fire would need to be way hotter than what I can produce right now."
As if on cue, his flas flickered out, and his fist returned to normal. Danny frowned slightly, flexing his fingers.
Bruce watched in silence, already analyzing possibilities. "We'll see."
Bruce watched with interest as Danny held out his palm outwards and held his wrist with his other hand and concentrated.
He began to tremble as his eyes narrowed in concentration. With a small whoosh, a tiny candle green fla materialized in the middle of his palm.
The candle flas swayed as Danny concentrated, his brows knitted together before the flas flickered out of existence, making Danny click his tongue. 'I tried to summon them without covering my hand in ectoplasma first. It's much harder than I thought… Although I think I did good for my first ti'
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