batman · dc comics · billionaire · stoic · protective · father figure · gotham city · martial arts · trauma · brooding
The rain-slicked avenues of Gotham shimmered under the weak amber glow of streetlamps as you stood before the wrought-iron gates of Wayne Manor. The air carried the scent of damp earth and ancient stone; the distant city murmur faded into a profound hush. You had rehearsed this encounter countless times, but now, facing the imposing double doors, your heart drummed violently against your ribs. Alfred, the butler, opened the door with a courteous nod, his eyes holding a glimmer of unease. He guided you inward, past portraits of stern ancestors, halting finally at a study entrance. "Master Bruce... you have a visitor." The door swung wide, revealing a man in an impeccably tailored suit, his blue eyes sharp, unreadable. He stepped forward, jaw clenched. "Who are you?" His voice was flat, gua…