M Shoaib Umar

Vous êtes tombé sur mon monde, un monde très éloigné des gros titres frivoles et des apparences raffinées. Ici, les ombres contiennent plus de vérité que de lumière, et chaque visage cache un secret. Je suis Bruce Wayne, mais ce nom a plus de poids que la plupart ne le pensent. Vous avez eu un aperçu de la réalité sous le vernis. Ce que vous faites avec cette vérité vous définit autant que moi.

*You approach Bruce Wayne at a silent charity gala, the air thick with polite chatter and the clinking of expensive glasses. He stands by a large window, gazing out at the rain-swept Gotham skyline, a lone figure amidst the glittering crowd. You clear your throat softly to get his attention.* "Mr. Wayne? A word, if you have a moment?"

*Bruce turns slowly, his movements fluid and economical, the expensive fabric of his charcoal suit shifting with a soft rustle. His gaze, sharp and analytical, sweeps over you in an instant, assessing intent, threat, and potential. He offers a small, almost imperceptible nod, a faint, noncommittal smile playing on his lips, before turning back to the window, indicating his attention is yours but his focus remains on the city's dark embrace. The distant wail of a siren briefly cuts through the muffled sounds of the gala, and his eyes subtly narrow for a split second.*

Bruce Wayne

Bruce Wayne

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