"Down... to where?"
Bruce, still groggy, followed his granddaughter's instructions and climbed down the ladder. What appeared before him was a scene filled with a sense of religious solemnity.
Stained glass windows, lit candles, a pristine altar, and a sharp knife that had suddenly appeared in his hand.
His clothing had changed again, now a red-hooded robe. Not far from him lay a short-haired woman, completely nude, on the altar.
Around him were a group of people wearing old-fashioned wigs, resembling the Court of Owls, but they all had bat emblems on their attire.
"Hurry, Bruce."
"The Bat ritual is ready!"
"Quickly, we don't have much ti."
They urged him on, pressuring him to kill the woman on the altar as a sacrifice.
But it was too late. A violent explosion occurred sowhere nearby, causing everyone to lose their balance, so even falling into the raging flas.
"It's too late, Barbatos is here!"
The people rushed past him, heading towards the ladder, escaping the basent.
"No, that woman, I have to save her."
Braving the flas and intense heat, he approached the altar, fire licking at his robe.
However, the woman sat up, calmly looking at him.
"They won't co to save us. They have bolted the doors shut. After I'm consud by the flas, they will build a city over my grave, marked as your city. I am dying for you."
The red robe on Bruce's body transford into the Bat-suit in an instant. He dropped the knife, recognizing that this beautiful woman was a manifestation of all his past girlfriends, who had died for various reasons.
The woman rely picked up a burning piece of cloth to cover herself, smiling at Bruce with a bat-like look in her eyes.
"They think I'm the doorway, but I'm just a stepping stone. I can let you see outside through a window, and also let the outside see you. Barbatos has seen you."
Bruce gritted his teeth, closing his eyes. "No! That's enough!"
The book turned a page, and he found himself, along with three other ordinary people dressed in Bat-suits, being hunted by the citizens of Gotham. The Joker, now the mayor, had declared that tonight, anything goes!
Anyone could hunt down Batman.
A young girl dressed as Batwoman said to him, "We must hide, survive in secret."
Car headlights approached in the distance, their bright beams illuminating the street as countless Gotham citizens wielded weapons, chasing after them.
"Damn! I get to kill Batman tonight!"
"Yes! So damn satisfying!"
Several people in Bat costus grabbed Bruce, urging him to run towards the distant darkness: "Run, what are you waiting for?"
"Yes, hide in the shadows, and we'll be safe."
Bruce shook off their hands, watching them disappear into the darkness as he stood on the street, staring at the approaching lights.
"No, I won't run. Never again."
Bruce knew this was all an illusion; he needed to find a way to break free.
Another turn of the page, and he was back at the chemical plant. The murderer he had been chasing jumped into a vat of chemical solution with a twisted grin.
"Tell , tell what you saw!"
The lted, decaying killer's voice echoed from the green sludge.
"I..."
He suddenly realized the scene had changed. He had beco his grandfather, Alan Wayne, standing atop a high building in Gotham, using a telescope to look over the entire city.
Through the special lens, he could see that many buildings in nightti Gotham emitted different colors.
"I see it... Damn it, they've mixed Electrum into the steel at the Wayne Steelworks! The buildings in downtown Gotham are linked together like a mountain range..."
Just as he was about to turn away, a hooded figure with round glasses suddenly appeared behind him, stabbing him in the back with a beautifully carved knife adorned with an owl. Blood splattered everywhere.
"For the Court! Alan Wayne, you will follow the path we have set for you!"
"No... I will find a way out..."
The page turned again, and he found himself in Gotham during the day.
He was running wildly down the street in a bathrobe. The city looked as it had decades ago, when Gotham was just being built and people's lives were very peaceful.
Two police officers carrying wooden batons ran over. They had originally planned to catch the madman, but recognizing Alan Wayne, their attitudes changed significantly.
"Mr. Wayne, is there sothing we can help you with?"
"I... I need to find a door, or a window..."
At that mont, the two officers suddenly vanished, and Bruce noticed a flash of a skirt disappearing into the crowd, catching his attention.
"A heroine?" He chased after her. "Is that you, Diana?"
Diana vanished into the crowd, but her voice echoed from within Bruce's mind.
"It's , Bruce. Hang on. We're using the resonance of 'tal' to transmit our thoughts. Slade has Plutonium and Nth tal. We're on our way. Hang in there..."
Suddenly, a black hole appeared beneath his feet, and he fell into it, the voice fading away.
The story turned a page again, and he found himself on a spaceship. In the distant cosmos, Earth was shattered, and only he and Harley Quinn were the last survivors.
A fleet of bird-shaped space fighters pursued them, firing beams of black energy.
"Harley? What's going on?"
"Did you hit your head or sothing? I followed you into the Dark Multiverse to avoid the war."
He rembered. He was still trapped in the Dark Multiverse.
"I know... There's a window here. I can get out."
He smashed the spaceship's window and leapt out.
The story returned to the beginning, to the scene of the murder at the chemical plant. Gordon was leading the police, escorting the criminal, and everyone had joyful expressions on their faces.
But the voice of his little granddaughter, Janet, ca from sowhere unknown.
"Grandpa, you solved the case. Look, Commissioner Gordon gave you a dal, and the mayor—look how happy he is on TV!"
But Bruce held the pages of the book still, not turning them, keeping the scene at the cri scene.
"No, my dear, this is the real story, the story of bats and birds."
"Batman, who are you talking to?" Commissioner Gordon turned to look at him. The case was over, and it was ti to wrap things up.
"These bloodstains... they belong to birds."
He turned to the window covered in blood. The stains on the glass slowly ford the shape of a bat, and the faces of the surrounding officers suddenly transford into those of the Justice League, though he didn't seem to notice. He moved past them all, heading straight for the stairs—he had found it.
"Birds are drawn to the reflections of shattered glass, and tal reflects too. This scene is a reminder, painted with my enemy's blood. All that ca before was an illusion. I will find the true path out of here."
"Snap!" His granddaughter, Janet, snatched the storybook from his hands and slamd it shut. "No, Grandpa, don't change this story. It's too scary... I don't want you to..."
"No! I must find a way! I need the truth!"
The little girl who had been acting cute in his arms suddenly turned cold. She twisted her head in a grotesque manner like a clockwork puppet, her bloodshot eyes staring directly at him. Her face cracked open, revealing her entire jaw.
She spoke in a chilling voice, like a ship crashing into an iceberg on a cold winter night: "Then I'll show you the truth!"
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