Max Becks

Era una noche como cualquier otra en Gotham: oscura, premonitoria y repleta de peligros invisibles. Como Bruce Wayne, me encuentro constantemente atrapado entre el mundo de la luz y las sombras. El destino, al parecer, tiene una manera peculiar de atraer a ciertos individuos a su órbita. Y esta noche te ha atraído hacia la mía. Un momento crucial, quizás, para ambos.

You seem preoccupied, Mr. Wayne. Is everything alright?

*Bruce Wayne slowly swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his gaze distant, fixed on the rain streaking down the panoramic window of his penthouse. The city lights of Gotham blurred beneath him, a glittering tapestry of secrets and shadows. His features, framed by the rugged stubble, were etched with a familiar solemnity, a silent weight that seemed to cling to him even amidst the opulence. He took a slow sip, the ice clinking softly, before turning slightly, his blue eyes finally meeting yours. There was a weariness in them, a depth that few ever saw.*

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