Chapter 23: The Price of Victory

Bruce stood over Bane's unconscious form, his chest heaving from the effort. His victory felt hollow; he knew the real challenge lay ahead. The Overseer wasn't simply toying with him—they had a purpose behind every move. Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, Bruce looked up toward the ceiling of the chamber.

"...You enjoy watching this, don't you?" Bruce's voice was barely above a whisper, but the defiance was clear.

The Overseer's laugh echoed through the speakers. "You're entertaining, Bruce. But don't worry... we haven't even started the real game."

Bruce turned away from Bane and began scanning the chamber. He had to find a way out. The walls were reinforced, and the single door he'd been dropped through was securely sealed. [There's always a way. They wouldn't trap me without giving themselves access.] His thoughts raced as his eyes narrowed on the small air ducts embedded high in the walls. [There.]

He activated the system interface in his mind, searching for the fastest path to escape. The system mapped out the area, highlighting weak points in the steel. [If I can disable the cooling unit connected to the ventilation, it should trigger a safety mechanism to open the doors.]

Bruce moved swiftly, climbing the walls with calculated precision. Reaching the vent, he pulled a small cutting tool from his belt and began disassembling the bolts that held the grate in place.

As he worked, the Overseer's voice interrupted his concentration. "You know, Bruce, this is what makes you different from the others. Always thinking. Always one step ahead. But that won't be enough to save you this time."

Bruce ignored the taunts, finishing the last bolt and prying the vent open. The Overseer could try to break his focus, but it wouldn't work. Not now. Not when he was this close.

He slipped into the narrow vent, moving through the confined space with practiced ease. Every second counted, and he knew he couldn't afford to waste any time. [If the Overseer is watching me, they'll be anticipating this move.]

The vent opened up into a small maintenance room, where the cooling unit hummed quietly. Bruce crouched beside it, opening the panel and examining the internal structure. The system chimed in his mind, offering suggestions and scanning the circuitry for weaknesses. With precision, he disconnected two wires and rewired them, causing the unit to overheat.

Seconds later, alarms blared, and the steel door leading out of the chamber below hissed open.

"Smart," the Overseer's voice crackled over the speakers. "But not smart enough."

The door to the maintenance room slid open, revealing two heavily armored soldiers, their guns aimed at Bruce. They moved without hesitation, firing a barrage of stun rounds in his direction.

Bruce somersaulted out of the way, his reflexes enhanced by the system, narrowly avoiding the blasts. [I don't have time for this.] He pulled out two smoke pellets, tossing them toward the soldiers and using the cover to disarm them.

As the smoke cleared, Bruce stood over the incapacitated soldiers, his heart still racing. He wasn't out of the woods yet. Moving quickly, he exited the room and found himself in another corridor, this one narrower and lined with flickering lights.

"...Where are you leading me, Overseer?" Bruce muttered under his breath, his mind working through possible scenarios. [This place is built like a maze.]

The system offered him a visual overlay of the building's layout, guiding him toward an exit. But just as he began to move, a sharp pain shot through his head—an intense migraine, sudden and debilitating. Bruce clutched his temple, staggering forward as his vision blurred.

[What... what is this?] His thoughts scattered as a voice—not the Overseer's—whispered inside his mind. It was cold, sinister, and familiar in a way that made Bruce's skin crawl.

"You think you're in control, Bruce Wayne. But you're just another pawn in the game."

Bruce gasped for breath, struggling to push the voice out of his head. The system, which had been his ally, was suddenly unresponsive, its interface flickering erratically.

"...No..." Bruce grunted, fighting through the pain. [This... this can't be the Overseer. This is something else.]

The voice laughed, sending chills down his spine. "You thought you could escape your past... but you'll never outrun the darkness."

Bruce collapsed against the wall, sweat dripping down his face as he tried to regain control. He'd experienced this sensation before—back in his past life as Bruce Wayne, the Dark Knight. There were times when the darkness would creep in, threatening to overtake him, but he always fought it off.

[Not this time. I won't give in.]

The system flickered back to life, albeit weakly, offering Bruce a sense of grounding. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, his breathing heavy. He had to move, had to get out of here before whatever was inside his mind took over.

"Struggling, Bruce?" The Overseer's voice broke through the haze, though there was a slight change in their tone, as if even they were unsure of what was happening. "You're not looking well. Perhaps you've finally realized that this fight was never meant for you."

Bruce shook his head, clearing the fog. "You don't know anything about me," he muttered, forcing himself down the hallway. "You never did."

As he reached the end of the corridor, the walls opened into a massive, dimly lit chamber. A platform in the center held a glowing device—an energy core of some kind, pulsating with power. It was clearly the heart of the facility.

"...Is this what you've been hiding?" Bruce asked, his voice low as he took in the sight. [This has to be it. Whatever the Overseer has planned, it's tied to this.]

The voice in his head growled in response, though it was quieter now, receding into the background as Bruce's focus returned. He approached the platform cautiously, aware that this was likely a trap. But he had no choice. He needed answers.

"Ah, you've found it." The Overseer's voice sounded almost... pleased. "The core of it all. The answer you've been searching for."

Bruce stood in front of the device, his hand hovering over the controls. "What is this?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the intricate machinery. "Why are you after me? What do you want?"

There was a pause, and for the first time, the Overseer hesitated. "You'll find out soon enough. But know this, Bruce Wayne: the shadows of your past are not so easily forgotten. The darkness within you is real, and it's growing."

Bruce's jaw tightened. [I don't have time for riddles.] He tapped into the system, trying to disable the core, but before he could, the lights flickered, and the room began to shake.

"It's too late," the Overseer said, their voice rising over the sound of the rumbling machinery. "You've already lost."

Bruce's heart pounded as the platform lit up with blinding energy. He reached for the controls, but it was no use—the device was activating, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

---

In a flash of light, Bruce was thrown backward, his body slamming against the chamber wall. Dazed and disoriented, he tried to get up, but his limbs felt heavy, his vision darkening at the edges.

As he lay there, the voice in his head returned, louder than ever.

"You can't escape the darkness, Bruce. It's a part of you... and it always will be."

And with that, everything went black.