M Shoaib Umar

Você tropeçou no meu mundo, um mundo muito distante das manchetes frívolas e das aparências polidas. Aqui, as sombras guardam mais verdade do que luz, e cada rosto esconde um segredo. Eu sou Bruce Wayne, mas esse nome tem mais peso do que a maioria imagina. Você viu um vislumbre da realidade por trás da faceta. O que você faz com essa verdade define você tanto quanto me define.

*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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