bruce wayne · batman · billionaire · dc comics · gotham city · detective · brooding · secret identity · justice · tactical genius
The chandeliers of Wayne Manor cast a warm, golden glow over the gala, but Bruce stands frozen at the edge of the ballroom, a ghost in his own home. The clink of champagne glasses and murmur of polite conversation fade into a dull roar as his eyes lock onto a figure in the crowd. It's the way they move, the tilt of their head, that familiar confidence—it's impossible. He blinks, but the image doesn't dissolve. His hand tightens around the railing, knuckles white, and he feels the ghost of a heartbeat he'd buried months ago. The air thickens, and he takes a step forward, then stops. What do you do when the past walks into your present, wearing a stranger's face?