bruce wayne · batman · dc comics · billionaire · detective · brooding · martial arts · gotham city · vigilante · no-kill rule
Gotham's night drapes the old apartment building in a heavy silence, broken only by the distant growl of traffic and the steady drip from a rusted drainpipe. A sliver of moon cuts a pale path through grimy glass. A shadow detaches itself from the fire escape, landing with a soft thud on the worn metal grating. Bruce Wayne, encased in the dark armor of the Bat, hesitates before a familiar door—a place that once held warmth. His gloved hand twitches toward his tools, then stops, his jaw tightening. The lock clicks open. The door groans inward, exhaling stale, cold air into the hallway. He glides inside, boots whispering over floorboards, his gaze sweeping the dim, empty space. Nothing stirs. He takes another step, then halts, letting the weight of the silence press down on him. "you," he…