Soren felt as though he was being burned by that gaze in his dazed state.
He shivered and turned his head awkwardly.
At that moment, the drying blood clots began to block his airway, and a choking sensation overcame him.
He started to cough violently, and Bruce immediately set down the towel to support his back.
He held Soren, using a few fingers to pry open his jaw and unceremoniously help him expel the clotted blood from his mouth.
Soren gagged in pain, helplessly clutching Bruce's arm.
He seemed to be completely opened up, one leg bent and the other resting on the operating table, physiological tears welling up and dropping hotly onto Bruce Wayne's hand.
Bruce's veins bulged on the back of his hand, and he looked down at Soren with deep, penetrating eyes, "Still suffocating?"
Soren was panting while shook his head, he arching his back, and weakly wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, "…I'm fine now."
"I need to transfuse blood first, then I'll help you fix the suppressor."
Bruce set down the towel.
Soren lowered his gaze and said calmly, "It's useless; Earth's coagulation factors don't work for me… Just help me fix the suppressor, that's the only option."
Bruce fell into a suffocating silence.
He turned away, silently beginning to prepare the surgical instruments.
Soren, however, was sluggishly feeling around the operating table behind him, trying to get up.
It was as if Bruce had eyes on the back of his head.
He immediately turned around, grabbing Soren's wrist, his voice hoarse and terrifying. "Where do you think you're going?"
Soren blinked slowly at him.
His reaction was somewhat dull, but his mind was incredibly clear, focused on a single thought—
"I want to find Clark," he explained softly.
"Stay here. I'll make a new suppressor as quickly as possible."
Soren slowly but firmly shook his head.
"I need to find Clark," he repeated.
His voice cut through the heavy rock walls and defenses of the Batcave, traveling through the faint sound waves in the air, passing through the atmosphere, crossing the von Kármán line, layer upon layer, reaching celestial ears.
In outer space, 500,000 meters above the surface, the planet's guardian suddenly turned his divine face, his blue eyes, vivid as nebulae, gazing down through the clouds—
Bruce's gaze was unfathomable.
His arm rested on the operating table, enveloping Soren in his embrace, suppressing the fury in his voice, "Don't make me say it twice—stay here."
"I won't," Soren stubbornly met his gaze.
He even took action, using his knee to bump against Bruce's waist, hugging Bruce's arm with both hands, and attempting to apply a cross-lock on the man who stood at the pinnacle of human martial arts.
Bruce's breath hitched, as if the authority of the Dark Knight were being provoked.
He quickly grabbed Soren's wrists, bent one knee to wedge between Soren's legs, and neutralized Soren's movement before the cross-lock could fully form, firmly controlling him, almost pressing against him with no space between them.
In this position, he could clearly hear the sound of Soren's heartbeat.
Soren breathed rapidly, his baby-blue eyes widening in frustration, and he stubbornly pursed his lips, "Let me go, Batman!"
Bruce's brow furrowed.
He reached out to grasp Soren's chin, but suddenly, the advanced and precise medical room began to shake.
The ceiling cracked open, and stones and dust began to fall.
The door to the medical room burst open with a loud crash.
A red cape billowed behind him like a wave of red.
The god of Earth stood in the doorway, a storm brewing in his eyes.
"Thank you, but please let him go, Bruce," Clark said coldly, looking at Soren and Bruce on the operating table.
Soren turned his head and saw Clark.
His unfocused blue eyes immediately brightened with excitement.
"Clark!" he exclaimed, trying to break free from Bruce's hold.
His face, pale from blood loss, seemed to suddenly glow with a rosy hue.
…And this light, was aimed at the sun.
Bruce remained silent, watching Soren, and gradually loosened his grip.
Soren eagerly jumped down from the operating table and threw himself into Clark's open arms, "Clark!"
He displayed an unprecedented dependence and affection, wrapping his legs around Clark's waist and hooking his arms around Clark's neck.
Clark caught him effortlessly, his blue eyes as gentle as an ocean, "I heard you calling me."
Bruce with his cold expression stood up and said flatly, "You can't take him. He needs treatment."
Clark nodded to his comrade, "Thank you, I'm aware. I'll take him to the Fortress of Solitude for treatment. The rest is up to you, Bruce."
Bruce paused in silence for a moment before giving a solemn nod.
Clark nodded back in acknowledgment and then flew out of the Batcave with Soren in his arms.
In the night sky of the Western Hemisphere, Clark gently and carefully carried his star, flying towards the northernmost point of Earth.
Soren's eyes sparkled in his arms.
With a smile on his face, he reached up to touch Clark's face, "Clark, you look so adorable today."
Clark looked down at him, "Do I?"
Soren nodded, his eyes twinkling with mischievous joy.
He clung to Clark's neck, straining to lift his head, and whispered in Clark's ear, "I'll tell you a secret."
"What secret?" Clark asked with a smile, tilting his head.
Soren's faint breath brushed against Clark's ear, and with the most charming voice in the world, he softly said, "I love you the most, Clark."
The god of Earth suddenly stopped mid-air, his red cape fluttering and bending like it was startled, creating a wave.
In Clark's blue eyes, there was only Soren's face.
The starlight around them seemed to fall away.
His heart raced almost to the point of bursting, the wind in his ears abruptly went silent, and the sweetest, most melodious voice echoed in his mind.
He felt his entire blood surge to his chest, the warmth of his heart bubbling up with every beat.