Batman, unimpressed, said, "That joke wasn't funny."
He finished speaking and continued his patrol, disappearing into the dark depths of the city.
...
This was a dream.
Avery realized it with clarity.
He rarely dreamed, as a wizard's dreams often carried prophetic weight. He recalled the first dream he had after arriving in this world, back when he was studying in London. That dream had led him to change his original life plans, and it hadn't been a pleasant one, to say the least.
Incidentally, he had once planned to stay at the University of London as a lecturer.
However, this dream was odd—both unsettling and intriguing—and left him feeling puzzled.
The dream was veiled, as if shrouded in a thin mist, but Avery could still recognize it as Gotham. That was clear, likely due to the distinct Gothic architecture, which was unique to Gotham.
Avery stood by the fountain in front of Wayne Manor, the grand, castle-like mansion behind him, with a descending stone staircase before him, surrounded by a lush, green lawn.
But the oppressive gloom in the sky felt almost tangible, looming ominously overhead, as if it were watching him—watching the whole world—with predatory intent.
There should have been no one else around, yet Avery suddenly heard Bruce calling his name. He wasn't surprised, because dreams often lacked logic; even pigs flying in the sky wouldn't be out of the question.
However, interpreting dreams under such circumstances was no easy task, as even the most skilled wizards couldn't fully unravel the mysteries of the dream world.
Turning toward the sound, Avery saw Bruce standing there, holding a black-haired, blue-eyed boy. Three others stood beside him, but except for Bruce, the faces of the adults and children were indistinct.
"Avery!"
Bruce waved at him, his deep blue eyes gazing at him with an inexplicable tenderness. He then picked up one of the children and proudly presented him. "Look! This is my child, and he's yours too. Say 'Daddy!'"
Clearly, that last part was directed at the children.
Avery responded, "...Where did you get all these children, and who gave birth to them?"
Bruce laughed. "I adopted most of them. Only this one is my biological child," he said, pointing to the shortest of the group.
Avery glanced at the child. The boy's face was still a blank slate, and he had no idea how Bruce had determined he had black hair and blue eyes. Standing there, it already felt like something straight out of a horror movie, with no need for special effects.
Yet Avery, having seen it all, remained completely unfazed.
Just then, Bruce added, "Do you think this is a lot? Look over there—those are all my little batlings."
As he spoke, he gestured toward the direction outside the stone steps.
Avery didn't even have time to mock the term "batlings" or ask if Bruce had contracted some kind of virus. Before he could react, he heard what sounded like the movement of an approaching army behind him. Confused, he turned around, and what he saw left him utterly stunned.
Before him was a massive horde—hundreds of children, boys and girls alike, each of them impeccably beautiful. They were all rushing toward him, arms outstretched, shouting "Daddy!" as they charged like a tidal wave.
—These are all my little batlings.
Such words echoed constantly in Avery's ears.
But is this a bit too much? Bruce, did you really lose your mind to donate your sperm or something?
Avery wanted to escape, but there was no way out. So he tried to wake up immediately, but before he could take action, a pulling force dragged him out of the dream.
"Bang!"
A flash of white light surged, and the sound of something hitting the ground jolted him awake.
"Huff, huff..."
Avery covered his face with one hand, heavy breaths filling the dimly lit room. As his breathing gradually calmed, a moment of silence followed. He reached down to pick up his phone, which had fallen under the bed, and glanced at the time displayed on the screen.
6:05.
He had barely slept for two hours.
He immediately set the phone down, slipped on a white bathrobe, and padded barefoot to the window. Pulling the curtains open, morning sunlight rushed into the room, flooding every corner with warmth and dispelling the darkness.
Avery paused for a moment, lost in thought, still unable to grasp what the dream was trying to convey. Surely Bruce didn't actually stupid enough to donate his sperm, right? After all, how could so many children possibly come into existence? Even if he slept with a lot of women, there's no way so many would be willing to have his children.
But then again, what kind of wealthy man would be foolish enough to donate their sperm, not afraid of hundreds of women coming after him for child support and inheritance claims?
Perhaps the latter scenes held a deeper meaning that he had yet to decipher?
Avery pondered.
However, the possibility of Bruce having many children in the future seemed very likely. Perhaps they would encounter them soon? As he thought of Bruce's words about adoption from the dream, a sudden intuitive thought sparked in his mind.
As for the part where Bruce mentioned "also your child," he conveniently ignored it, joking with himself that his sexual orientation favored intellectually beautiful women. There was no way he could get involved with a two-hundred-pound man like Bruce.
Looking at all that muscle, how could he handle it?
Moreover, the two of them had grown up together. When it came to intimacy, wouldn't Bruce's childhood misdeeds occasionally resurface to haunt them?
Avery successfully convinced himself of this and proceeded to get dressed.
Given Batman's schedule, Bruce wouldn't likely be out of bed until noon. During this time, he could do things that wouldn't be easily discovered.
He inserted a pure black earring directly into his right ear, the needle piercing through his smooth, pale earlobe without a hint of blood seeping out.