Chapitre 51: Chapter 51 Towards the Future
Many years ago.
Perhaps people think that the most extraordinary encounters in history should have events of sufficient weight as their backgrounds. Significant events often bring great people together. Countless parallel universes and countless terrestrials are in this way. But here, on this earth, it is different.
That encounter, unheard of by most but significant enough to go down in history, all started with a baseball that flew too far.
It was outside a farm in Kansas, and a black top luxury car broke down in a wheat field. The winding cookie road ahead could not be seen at a glance, and not even a ghost could be seen within the line of sight.
The cool breeze unique to the suburbs blew lazily from the wheat fields, and the golden ears of wheat bent down one after another, like a circle of ripples spreading out from the golden lake. On the other side of the wheat field, there seemed to be some farmhouses, and the sign at the intersection had the words "Kent" written on it.
A young boy in vibrant sportswear and a peaked cap chased a baseball that was accidentally hit too far across the wheat field to the roadside. His small eyes were exposed when he saw the expensive toy that broke down on the roadside. Surprised expression. Not surprisingly, the chances of seeing such a top-of-the-line sedan aren't many for a farm kid.
"Sura When"
The middle-aged man, busy behind the hood trying to fix the car, noticed the cute kid with curious eyes and gave him a kind smile. The man had a goatee and looked kindly, which gave the farm boy some courage. He stepped forward and whispered, "Need help, sir?"
"Oh, no, thank you, young man." The man smiled. "I already know what's wrong; it just takes a little more time."
The little boy nodded, and his eyes returned to the luxury car again. He looked up and down the body carefully as if imprinting every detail of it in his mind.
Then, he noticed the passenger in the car's back seat- a young master in a hand-made custom suit, who looked similar to him but with a sadness that seemed not to belong to that age in his eyes.
They stared at each other for a few seconds.
The farm boy smiled slightly, revealing his neat and white teeth. The smile was as bright as the summer sun as if penetrating the dark brown window glass to illuminate the dark corner of the car.
"Hi," he said.
The young master hesitated for a moment, then rolled down the dark brown window panes to allow the warm sunlight of the farm to shine into his dark little world.
"Hello." He also greeted, but still no expression.
The farm boy smiled and raised the baseball in his hand: "Do we play together?"
The man behind the hood tilted his head and said with a smile, "I don't think it's a bad idea, Master Bruce; I'm afraid it will take me a while to get this thing working again; you can pass the time with this little gentleman. ."
So the young master opened the car door, got out of the car, walked into the Kansas farm's warm sunshine and refreshing breeze, and went with the farm boy carrying the baseball bat.
They played very late that day until they were exhausted, lying side by side on the green lawn, watching the sun in the clear sky turn from gold to red, until the last ray of light fell below the horizon. The car was strangely unrepaired all day long, and the young master's butler leisurely leaned against the car and looked at his gloomy master, showing a long-lost smile as if he was infected by the farm boy and couldn't help laughing contentedly.
The greatest legends in the world, Superman and Batman, were once called "the best partners in the world". Many people have imagined how Gotham's Dark Knight and Metropolis' Children of Light met. Most people think it may have started with an alien invasion, an undersea attack, or some other world-destroying catastrophe, but that's all wrong—it began with a car that broke down and a baseball that flew too far.
The past is like smoke; when watching the new Superman appear on the TV screen and speak generously to the people of the world, Bruce can't help but think of that afternoon in Kansas; the scene of that day is like an unforgettable old movie, clearly and deeply imprinted. In the deepest part of his mind.
"Thinking of Master Clark, sir?"
The loyal old butler, Alfred, dragged his plate into the Batcave on time with his carefully prepared lunch.
"Look at his eyes, Alfred; he is similar to the former Clark." Bruce stared at the screen without looking back, "Young, innocent, and still trusting strangers and the beauty of the world."
"That makes them Superman, sir," said Alfred, placing the tray on the bat computer's console. "The world is moving forward, and maybe it's time for you to get out of this musty cave. Think about it, If Master Clark and Miss Selena were still around, they would hope..."
"Dead people don't want anything, Alfred," interrupted Bruce impatiently.
Alfred stared at him for a long time. "Yes, the dead do not. But the living does. You have a visitor, sir."
She was saying that he stepped aside. Bruce finally looked away from the computer screen and realized that Helena had appeared in the cave at some point.
His eyelids twitched, but he still said blankly, "Helena."
"Hi." Helena walked forward along the escalator, smiled, and nodded to the old butler, who left the Batcave with interest and left the space for their father and daughter.
"I heard you were there," Bruce asked. "How are you?"
"Very good." Helena asked, "How about you?"
"very good."
"It doesn't look like that." Helena walked over to him, looking at the noisy Metropolitan Plaza on the computer screen, and said, "You seem quite satisfied with him."
"So far," Bruce said flatly. "But that remains to be seen. He's young, very volatile, and has a long way to go. If one day he loses control, we have to be ready."
"Have some confidence in him," Helena said. "He deserves it, and you need to re-believe in the existence of hope."
Bruce gave her a sideways look: "So you came back to Gotham just to tell me that this Kryptonian is trustworthy?"
"No, I'm not coming back this time for his business." Helena turned her head, looked into her father's eyes thoughtfully, and said, "After the mother's incident, I have been... intentionally with you. Keep your distance. While I know it's not right,
Bruce avoided her gaze intentionally or unintentionally and said hoarsely, "I understand. You have every right to blame me."
"No, that's not right, Dad." Helena took a step forward. "I've been reminded recently that family is so precious at times like this. Sorry, Dad, for having been this way for so long. Selfishness and ignoring that after all this happened, you were the one who suffered more than me. But now, I want to say from the bottom of my heart; I don't blame you, Dad; I forgive you. Can you forgive me? ?"
Bruce stared into her eyes, the stubborn lines of his face finally loosening uncontrollably. He hugged Helena tightly in his arms and whispered: "Of course, Helena...No matter what happens, I will always forgive you...and I will always love you."
The old butler peeped at all this through the crack of the entrance to the Batcave and couldn't help showing a relieved smile. He closed the last door gap without a word and left with a brisk tune. He seemed to feel the sun shining into the empty Wayne mansion for the first time in six years.
The world is about to enter a new era, and The Dark Knight, who has been stagnant for six years under this old house, is finally about to take a further step.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone