The cold wind howled over the skies of Gotham City, and faster than the wind was Bruce, desperately running through the dark rainy night.
Chasing after him was a grotesque monster, with long limbs resembling a spider. What was even more disturbing was that this monster had Alfred's face, and in one of its arms, it held a cup of hot milk.
From behind, Alfred's voice ca with continuous screams, becoming eerie and mournful: "Master, you need to drink your milk before going to sleep. Have you forgotten?!"
"You're not a good child!!" Alfred's face twisted more and more, waving its several-ter-long limbs and crawling on the ground like a giant arthropod. Its head rotated 180 degrees, and it kept shouting, "A good child must finish their milk before going to sleep!!!"
As Bruce ran forward, he recollected what had happened a few minutes earlier.
After discovering the Earth Device and the note, he was once again attacked by the Joker hiding under the bed, causing him to jolt awake once more.
Undoubtedly, he had acquired more clues. The Earth Device? Bruce wondered. What could a rotating Earth Device represent?
However, that guy under the bed was incredibly difficult to deal with. No matter which angle Bruce tried to grab the Earth Device from, he would be struck by his dagger and wake up again.
Unable to make progress in this regard, Bruce had no choice but to step out of the bedroom once again, exploring the hallway and other rooms. However, just like the traps in the bedroom, Bruce was repeatedly killed by the Joker in the other rooms.
Soon, Bruce ca to a halt in the middle of the hallway, turning back to look at the door of his bedroom.
Every ti he woke up, he would open the bedroom door from the inside and be killed by the Joker outside before returning to bed and opening the door from the inside again.
But he had never stood in the hallway and opened the door from the outside.
Bruce stood in the dark hallway, gripping the doorknob of the bedroom door, contemplating for a long ti. He deduced the rule of this place—he had to face his own fears directly.
When he was in the bedroom, his greatest fear was the story he had heard during his childhood. Perhaps he thought he had long forgotten it, but evidently, it hadn't faded away in his dreams. This fear was etched into his subconsciousness, only now resurfacing as a towering obstacle hindering him from finding the truth.
In the hallway, his greatest fear might be opening the door to his bedroom, for he knew that it not only ant the end of a day of despair but also signaled the beginning of the next hopeless day.
Bruce recalled that, for a long ti, he was terrified of returning to his room to sleep. Whenever he pushed open the bedroom door to rest, he felt a strong sense of guilt and remorse, as if there were more important things waiting for him to do.
And now, as he once again gripped the doorknob of the bedroom door, that familiar feeling surged up, just like the fear he had felt when he looked under the bed.
Nevertheless, he pushed the door open directly, and on the other side of the door was the second floor of Wayne Manor.
As he stepped onto the second floor, the door behind him disappeared, but Bruce knew that even more terrifying things would happen next because there were more rooms on the second floor than on the third floor. Moreover, this was where Alfred rested.
While walking down the second-floor corridor, Bruce encountered Alfred holding a tray with a cup of hot milk. Alfred looked at Bruce with concern and asked, "Master, did you have another nightmare? Have a cup of milk."
Bruce didn't move, and suddenly, that cup of milk transford into a comical bomb and exploded with a loud "bang." Alfred was blown to pieces, and Bruce jolted awake once again from his bed.
The second ti, he tried to pick up the glass of milk, but the milk still turned into a bomb, blowing him up and making him start over.
"Facing fear..." Bruce muttered to himself.
What was he afraid of? Was he afraid of Alfred? Or was he unable to face Alfred's concern?
Again and again he woke up, no matter what position Bruce used to pick up the glass of milk, no matter what he said, he would always wake up.
But soon, Bruce's mind cleared up, and when faced with Alfred again, he said, "Thank you, Alfred, but could you please bring the milk to my room?"
This ti, the milk didn't explode, and neither Alfred nor Bruce were blown up. Alfred just smiled and nodded, saying, "Of course, sir."
Now, Bruce was on the second floor, and his instruction was for Alfred to bring the milk to his bedroom on the third floor, so he had to go back to the third floor, but there was no staircase for him to use.
The fastest way was to wake up again and appear on the bed in the third-floor bedroom, but to Bruce's surprise, the entire second floor was too normal, with no terrifying Joker holding a knife, and no Staircase that would collapse.
Bruce realized that he couldn't go through another cycle.
What would you do when you realize you're dreaming and want to wake up?
Most people would choose to jump off a building, the feeling of falling would quickly wake them up from the dream, but there was another thod, which was to generate enough pain, or in other words, commit suicide.
"Facing fear..." Bruce muttered the word again, and then he thought, as long as you're human, you can't avoid the fear of death, so suicide should be the best way to face fear.
He found a screwdriver in one of the rooms, the sharpness of the tool was enough to pierce his heart, but when he brought the tool against his chest, Bruce realized that besides death, there was another fear surrounding him, causing his hand to tremble uncontrollably.
What if this isn't a dream?
What if he's being deceived?
What if this ti, from waking up on the bed, to leaving the bedroom, coming to the second floor, eting Alfred, and asking him to bring the milk upstairs, all of it is happening in reality?
What if after the screwdriver is plunged into his heart, he doesn't wake up, but instead writhes in pain on the ground, only able to despairingly await death?
That would be the biggest joke of this century.
Bruce had no doubt that so lunatic would set up layer after layer of traps just to create this joke, leading him willingly to plunge the weapon into his own heart and then embrace death.
Bruce suddenly realized that he understood all the madn in this world, whether they were laughing wildly, screaming loudly, self-harming, attacking others, perhaps they were just like Bruce now.
Perhaps they attacked themselves just to break free from a terrifying dream, and they attacked others as a way to attack a monster in their dream.
Just like if soone were to observe Bruce's actions during this period from an outsider's perspective, no matter who they were, they would think he was a madman.
He bounced around in his own bedroom, lifting the mattress, moving the book table, repeatedly entering the bathroom, and constantly twisting the doorknob. He checked every single thing in the room non-stop, as if he were a severe OCD patient, repeating those repetitive behaviors.
In the eyes of an onlooker, he had an inexplicable fear of the staircase. He would rather jump down from the balcony than take a step into the staircase. He crawled on the floor, went under the bed, and after retrieving an ordinary-looking Earth device, he pondered in the sa spot for a long ti.
He stood motionless in front of his bedroom door but didn't push it open. Facing the butler who was delivering milk to him, he suddenly revealed a sad and frightened expression. Holding the milk cup, it seed like he was holding a bomb and then waving his arm, he threw the milk cup away...
Just as the tip of the knife touched Bruce's chest, he suddenly understood the Joker.
The Joker kept laughing uncontrollably, referred to as a madman by others, but perhaps he only saw a funny joke in his own delusions. In his own dream, the choices he made were as normal as they could be.
Every lunatic is a normal person in their own world.
Just as Bruce's hand holding the knife slowly exerted force, about to leave a wound on his chest, he suddenly heard a scream of despair. Imdiately after, a monster with Alfred's face appeared behind Bruce, and as its head rotated, it shouted, "Master! Why aren't you in the room?!"
"You ca here to escape from drinking milk! Co back with and drink the milk before sleeping!!"
No matter what, seeing his butler turning into a long-limbed arthropod with a continuously rotating head was quite shocking for Bruce, so his imdiate reaction was to evade the attack.
He rolled to the right side and took advantage of the mont when Alfred turned around, fleeing.
There was no staircase on the entire second floor, but in the instant Bruce rushed into the corridor, the window at the end of the corridor opened with a loud "bang," and a cold wind rushed in. Bruce had no choice.
When he jumped out of the window, he thought the weightlessness and dizziness would wake him up again, but it didn't happen. He landed hard on the ground, and intense pain shot through his back and shoulders.
The overly realistic pain made Bruce start to doubt whether he had truly returned to reality. But it was clear that the nonsensical monster was reminding him that this was still a dream.
The rain began to pour heavily, and the howls of the monster behind him grew increasingly desperate. Everything seed to beco more chaotic, as if suddenly transitioning from a puzzle ga to a horror ga, complete with a relentless chase.
Bruce quickened his pace because he was unsure if there would be another chance to wake up if he were to be caught by that monster.
The roads outside Wayne Manor were very familiar to Bruce because he had walked them countless tis. However, now he realized that the surroundings of his own ho seed to have turned into an endless maze.
The monster kept chasing, and Bruce kept running, just like the kind of nightmare where one is being pursued. With the passage of ti, his ntal and physical strength were constantly being depleted.
What were the rules? Bruce wondered. Confronting fear?
Fear...
Suddenly, he stopped at a familiar intersection, one he had passed several tis but overlooked.
It was an intersection he was very familiar with. He knew how many pieces of rubble were piled up there and how many wires there were. Because it was there, with a gunshot, that his life changed.
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