When Bruce passed out, he found himself in an entirely different world.
At the same time, he felt like he was floating, weightless, surrounded by an endless horizon.
He couldn't tell where he was or how he got there in the first place.
He looked around, but there was nothing, just the white emptiness stretching as far as his eyes could see.
Silence!
"Am I dead?" he muttered to himself, his voice echoing very loudly and distantly. He tried to move, but his body felt hefty like it wasn't his.
Then, out of nowhere, he saw a figure in the distance. A man was walking slowly, his back turned to Bruce.
"Hey! Wait!" Bruce called out, waving. "Who are you?"
The man didn't stop.
Bruce hurried toward him, his feet dragging as if the ground itself resisted his steps. As he got closer, his heart skipped a beat.
It was his dead father. "Papa!" he shouted, tears already filling his eyes. "Wait for me!"
His father stopped and turned around, his face calm but sad. "Bruce," he called gently. "What are you doing here?
Bruce fell to his knees, as he cried out, "Papa, I'm so sorry! I failed you… I couldn't save you. I should have been there for you."
"Bruce, listen to me, son." his father said. "You didn't fail me. Life is not always in our control."
"But I should've done more!" Bruce sobbed, gripping his father's hand tightly and resting his head on his groin. "You didn't deserve this."
His father shook his head gently. "You did your best, son. Don't carry this burden. It wasn't your fault."
Bruce buried his face in his father's garment, his cries muffled as he held on tightly. "I miss you, Papa. I miss you so much. I don't know how to live without you."
"You need to go back, son," his father said firmly. "It's not your time. Your journey isn't over yet."
"Papa, I can't go back. There's nothing for me there. They want to put me in jail or make me pay a million dollars! I can't do it. I don't have the means." Bruce cried out as tears streamed down his face.
His father's expression softened, and he placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "You are stronger than you think, Bruce. You've always been stronger. You have so much more to do, so many battles to win. This isn't the end for you."
"But how can I face them?" Bruce sobbed. "I'm nothing without you. You're all I had, Papa. If you're gone, what's the point of living?"
His father pulled him into a hug, and Bruce felt a warmth that seemed to ease the ache in his heart. "I may not be with you in the way you want, but I will always be here," his father said, tapping Bruce's chest gently. "I'll be your guardian angel, watching over you. I promise."
Bruce clung to his father, shaking his head. "I can't do it without you. Please, let me stay here with you."
His father pulled back, looking into his son's eyes. "No, Bruce. You can't give up. You're meant to be a great man, someone who stands for what's right. Promise me, son, that you'll be strong. Promise me you'll live a life I can be proud of."
Bruce hesitated, his heart heavy. "I promise, Papa," he said finally. "But… I also promise to make them pay for what they did to you. I'll get revenge for us."
His father's expression darkened slightly, but he nodded. "Do what you must, but remember to never lose yourself to anger. Stay true to who you are."
Bruce wiped his eyes as his father turned away. "Wait, Papa! I want to spend some time with you. Don't go! Not yet!"
His father looked back one last time, smiling faintly. "It's time for you to wake up, Bruce. You still have a lot to do. I'll always be with you."
Bruce watched helplessly as his father walked away, disappearing into the endless horizon.
The dead silence returned, and for a moment, everything felt still again.
Then, suddenly, Bruce's eyes shot open, and he gasped for air.
He's awake!