Little Bruce's mouth opened, but he said nothing. Before coming here, his focus had been on matching wits with that insurance investigator. When he met with Martha and Thomas before, their focus was also on Bruce and the Batman of the Prime Universe, and he was pretty much irrelevant.
Batman is not good at improvisational battles, which also shows in his not being very good at making up excuses on the spot. This doesn't mean he's slow-witted, just that he generally takes a long time before he speaks. He doubts his own fabrications and feels the need to review them hundreds of times in his head, which leads to even longer pauses.
As everyone knows, only when answers are given fluently and without hesitation do they seem like the truth. But when someone ponders for a long time after being asked a question and then stays silent for another long while, it always looks like they're making it up on the spot.
After Little Bruce was silent for 20 seconds, Martha slightly furrowed her brow.
"Maybe I'll go to Gotham University," Little Bruce said without committing too fully, because he felt Thomas and Martha might have other arrangements. No matter what, he wouldn't seriously attend the university, because that insurance investigator named Jerome was also a college student—how awkward it would be to run into him at school.
"How are your grades?" Thomas asked. "Which high school are you attending?"
"I haven't started yet," Little Bruce replied, recalling. "Unless something unexpected happens, I'll be starting the second semester of the first year of high school when I return."
"So, you're saying you've skipped half a year of courses."
Little Bruce nodded, wanting to say he'd skipped more than just half a year's courses. He hadn't really focused on his middle school studies, spending most of his time investigating his mother's case, and the rest evading and interfering with Jerome's actions.
Although middle and high school curricula have little to teach someone like Batman, in the presence of his parents, especially when they really want you to study, he obviously couldn't say that.
"We are not expecting you to learn anything truly useful in school," Thomas explained. "But you must get involved in the campus life, participate in activities suitable for your age group, instead of facing issues far beyond what you should be dealing with at your age. That's unreasonable."
"But I am capable of handling these issues," Little Bruce shook his head. "And I find activities my age both boring and uninteresting."
"Yes, you can handle problems a level higher, then you will find a problem two levels higher, and at that time you're not quite there yet. So you start thinking of all sorts of ways to enhance your abilities. After successfully solving the level two problem, soon enough a level three problem presents itself..."
"In the end, while everyone else is still on level one, you're already at level one hundred. You're in the same age group but no longer from the same world, and by the time they reach level one hundred, you're no longer human."
Thomas's tone revealed helplessness, his gaze occasionally drifting towards the door, though there was nothing there. The Batmans all knew who he was looking at.
"For you, the greater your abilities, the greater your responsibilities, and the greater the responsibilities, the more you demand from your abilities. You keep getting more capable, and in turn, you take on even greater responsibilities, until eventually, you become omnipotent,"
Thomas said while nodding, "Aside from losing all normal human emotions, everything else is quite fine, right?"
"But I am already facing many problems," Little Bruce insisted, understanding their words, yet saying, "I have to solve them, otherwise things will get worse."
"That was true in the past," Martha said as she drew him close and touched his shoulder, "The Robins did the same. They took on those responsibilities because no one else could, and if they didn't, things would get even worse."
"But now it's different, we have dependencies, we have support, you can work, but you can also have downtime, because someone will take over your work, ensuring everything runs smoothly."
"That's how the human race developed," Thomas continued. "We push this cart forward, and when we get tired, someone else takes over—our kin, our friends, and everyone willing to offer us support."
Little Bruce fell silent. Although he could understand what Thomas was saying, the problem with Batmans is that they always want to push the cart a little farther, even farther, ideally alone to the finish line, because they're always worried that if they let go, any replacement might not just let the cart roll back, but could also get crushed by it.
"Those excessive worries are not normal," Martha said, holding Little Bruce. "Others might have noticed, but some don't know what to do about it, some can't, and maybe ultimately they don't need to."
"But your mother and I can't ignore it. We are your biological parents and your legal guardians, knowing our son is experiencing mental health issues and not doing anything, or not taking strong measures to get treatment and recovery, would be irresponsible to him and to society."
Thomas looked around at the Robins and said, "This mentality of Batman's wouldn't only harm himself. If such a significantly influential mental illness isn't curbed, then there's no point in having mental asylums in the world."
Aside from Little Bruce, the other Batmans were speechless. With their intelligence, of course, they could feel their mental states were somewhat different from most people in the world. While subtly reluctant to admit that this might classify as a disease, the results were inarguable—each Batman had significantly impacted their world.
"So, at least while you're staying here, you need to stop your terrifying evolution," Thomas said. "There's nothing here worth risking the safety of the cosmos to save, and the dreadful situation in your original universes will naturally be dealt with by others."
"So what is this, a vacation?" Batwoman said, "I thought we were just staying at the manor for a few days and then going home."
"Of course not," Martha said somewhat displeased, "Your universe is far away from here. It's difficult to come here, so how can you leave after just a few days?"
"Besides, we have an outing planned," Red Robin suggested, "It's boring with too few people. Why don't we see who can catch more fish?"
"Oh my goodness," Red Hood said clearly on the verge of a breakdown, "Can we please not talk about fishing? Do I need to remind you how you and Thomas fished for 10 hours straight into the night and didn't catch a single one? And you're going again the next day."
There was a twitch at the corner of Nightwing's mouth too, obviously they had some bad fishing memories.
"That was because Thomas got the bait formula wrong last time. Arthur clearly said to use flaxseed and he insisted on using olive oil instead."
"But you only caught two the next day!"
"That was because we chose the wrong spot," Thomas defended, "Tim was dragging his feet that day and we left half an hour late, so all the good fishing spots were taken."
Red Hood sighed deeply and said, "Just the other day, you finished lecturing Batman about staying up too late with experiments, and the next night at 3 AM you're in the living room. Batman had already gone to sleep and you were still in the kitchen making bait."
"Enough," Martha intervened and said, "If we're going on an outing to Brude Haven, we'll definitely go sea fishing. Maybe we can even take the boat over to Port of Mercy, but you all need to promise me you'll go to bed early and get up early..."
Alfred quickly brought up the sliced bread, brushed a little garlic olive oil on it, and toasted it on the stove until the crust was crispy. They began spreading butter on the bread with knives, then cutting open fried eggs and using forks to pick up vegetables and pop them into their mouths.
Then came the traditional family-style English breakfast with the sausage sharing. The sausages Alfred had prepared were brought out and Martha sliced them, putting four different types in each plate: Thuringian pepper sausage, Frankfurt sausage, spicy mutton sausage, and Lincolnshire sausage.
After dividing the sausages, Thomas handed out the plates to everyone. As Martha cut the sausages in her own plate, she said, "I don't know who doesn't eat spicy food. If you are not used to it, pass your sausage to the person next to you."
"Oh, right," Martha turned to look at the Batmonster Vehicle parked beside and said, "Alfred, do you think we need to get some gasoline or diesel? Which do you prefer?"
"Regular gasoline will do, but I'd love it even more if it's crude oil, Mom, I can handle spicy."
Alfred immediately went to find gasoline for the Batmonster Vehicle, while Martha continued to discuss the upcoming plans, "We're not immediately going camping as the weather isn't quite right yet, and there's always too much fog at sea for fishing."
"So those still in school need to go back for a week, Little Bruce. The Dick from the other universe was also preparing for high school and I think we can start by hiring his tutor for you. Then this Saturday, we'll invite him and your future high school teachers over for dinner, and you need to prepare for that."
Martha then looked at Batwoman and said, "I'm sorry, but there's already a Batman working till 3 AM every day, so you probably won't have time to use the Batcave's equipment, and I doubt you would enjoy just hanging around the manor."
"Gotham has many needs, but there might not be anything urgent that requires Batman's help. How about we call Diana and see if she can get you a job at the Metropolitan Museum of Art? It's a rather quiet and comfortable place, with the chance to paint and study opera occasionally."
Batwoman was about to say she was not at all interested in these things, but then she remembered that Silvius once dreamed of becoming an opera singer. However, due to his background, he never achieved it.
Batwoman sighed internally, nodded her head, and thought attending operas wouldn't be an issue, but singing herself was out of the question.
"And you," Martha looked at Lightning Batman and said, "If, as you say, Barry's soul is still within you, you'll have to find a way to separate him and create a new body for him."
"But as I said, there's already a Batman in the Batcave, and it probably couldn't handle two Batmans working there at high efficiency. So I think you should prepare theoretically. Thomas will set up a meeting with a professor from the mechanical engineering department at Metropolitan University. Maybe you can use their lab..."
Lightning Batman had not yet responded when Barry started howling in his head. Just as Lightning Batman was about to tell Barry to shut up, he remembered Martha and Thomas were watching, so he held back.
"And you," Martha continued, turning to Mechanical Batman, "I imagine you have your understanding of that mechanical body, and since it's still functional, there's no need to tinker with it."
"However, preparing for a vacation with so many people can be strenuous, and Alfred is getting on in years. You need to be considerate of your old butler and use your super-strong body to help him carry things."