The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridor, reflecting off the polished floors with an agency quickly advancing, the raspy sound of guns being loaded, reminding one of the sudden hiccup of an audio cassette. Above, the lights flickered irregularly. Through the windows, the howling winds slowly gave way to falling snowflakes, landing softly like feathers.
The storm had eased, but the snowfall hadn't ceased; even as the sharp edges of the snowflakes had eased, they were still falling thick and heavy. The weather was still bitterly cold, and the snow on the street, hardly having a chance to melt, was again blanketed by a fresh layer of white fluff.
The sky remained somber, a heavy layer of dark clouds hung over the manor, adding to the growing weight on everyone's hearts.
Everyone could feel the atmosphere in the Manor becoming increasingly tense and oppressive.
If the mayor's murder case was a brisk piano overture, the recent gunfight in the corridor represented the crescendo of a high-intensity drumbeat. Now, as the murmur of strings resurfaced, everyone knew the end was near.
However, that didn't mean they could all leave safely. The agitated footsteps and the sounds of a gun being loaded echoed through the corridor. Everyone understood that a confrontation was nearing.
The atmosphere grew quieter, but felt increasingly eerie, akin to the snowflakes fluttering outside, calm yet with a lurking deadly intent.
The tension didn't confine to the Mayor's Manor in Metropolis alone, but had swept across Wayne Manor in Gotham too.
Dick tip-toed through the corridor, gently turned the doorknob, swiftly entered the room, and stealthily closed the door.
Aisha, who had been playing with building blocks on the carpet, turned around and looked at Dick. She stood up and extended her arms towards him. Dick approached and lifted her up. As she was about to cry out, Dick quickly said, "Shush, be quiet..."
Aisha was now able to understand some words, especially those uttered by Dick. She tilted her head, seemingly confused by Dick's somewhat guilty expression.
Dick walked over to the carpet and put Aisha down on it. He began to tidy up the scattered blocks and whispered, "Earlier, I noticed Alfred buffing his double-barreled shotgun again."
He swallowed nervously, looked around, apparently worried, and continued, "I can recall that the only time he'd clean his gun is when Mr. Wayne would return late or injured."
"And even then, he would just clean the barrel with deer skin. I just saw him clear the gun bore and even test the trigger…"
"My God, he must be very upset!"
Dick took a deep breath, shrugged, and relaxed. He scratched his head, looking somewhat helpless, and confessed, "But Bruce has been a bit..."
"He has been out all night for several consecutive days, spotted gallivanting in bars and the Red Light District, and had a quarrel with Selina. Now, he has been missing for almost 20 hours?"
Dick sighed and said, "If I went off without a word for 20 hours, my dad would break my legs."
"Wah-wah-wah!" Aisha shouted out.
"You say he is an adult? What good does that do? I consider myself an adult too, but Bruce and Alfred wouldn't let me leave the manor for too long either."
"I'm supposed to only return home twice a week from my school, but they approached my school counselor, insisting I attend school during the day and stay on campus for fear that I'd be mistreated if I leave here for too long."
"Wah-wah-wah! Wah-wah!" Aisha cried out again.
"Of course, I know Alfred treats me well, not only does he drive me to and from school but also makes my favorite dishes. He even delivers afternoon tea to my school, but how can I comfort him?"
"Now, I dare not even go to his room, a dark atmosphere is pervading everywhere!" Dick drew a large circle with his hands and said with theatrical exaggeration, "I have no doubt that anyone who enters this area could be in danger!"
As he finished, a loud "Bang" echoed from the corridor, startling Dick. Aisha's eyes widened; she turned her head left and right and then stared fixedly at the wall of the room.
Dick followed her gaze, realising it pointed in the direction from where he'd come—the direction of Alfred's room.
"Let's go over and see what happened, maybe the gun went off!"
Saying this, he picked up Aisha. She struggled in his arms, and started shouting again. Dick stopped, put Aisha down, and said while patting his forehead, "Oh, I forgot. You run faster. You go ahead, and see if Alfred got hurt."
However, Aisha didn't move. She began to shout again, waving her arms around. Dick paused and said, "Can I... teleport? How do I... I'm just a..."
"Right! I can teleport too! But I'm not very good at controlling it… No, Alfred might need my help, I guess I'll just give it a try."
As he spoke, he concentrated his mind, his body began to glow green, and then with a 'whoosh' he was gone. Aisha ran out the door, hurling at incredible speed toward the other end of the hallway.
Just as she turned a corner and reached the room at the end of the hallway, a "pop" sound followed, and Dick, glowing green, landed heavily from midair.
"Oh, my waist!" Dick shrieked in pain. Aisha broke into a wide grin and burst into laughter, shouting "Wah-wah-wah".
Dick got up, picked up Aisha, and rubbed her head hard and said, "Stop laughing! For my first time trying to control the teleportation myself, it wasn't that bad, right?"
"Next time I'll try to teleport closer to the ground."
Just as he finished speaking, the snap of a door being opened echoed, and the light from the room poured out in between Dick and Aisha.
The face of Alfred appeared behind the door. For a moment, his expression was stern, but upon seeing Dick and Aisha, it immediately softened.
Dick, rubbing his waist, approached and looked up at Alfred, "Aisha and I heard a gunshot. We came to see if everything is okay. Are you alright?"
Alfred answered with a warm smile, "I'm fine, it was just a misfire."
He crouched down, patted Dick's head, glanced at Aisha, and turned to Dick:
"I may need to leave for a bit, be away for a short while, so while preparing the tools…"
Dick blinked and asked, "Where are you going?"
"He's mad! He's going to fly to Metropolis in this weather!" Another voice came from the room.
Dick popped his head in and shouted, "Hal, how are you here??"
"You should ask this good butler named Pennyworth!" Hal's voice came again, sounding quite grudging.
Seeing the curious Dick wanting to poke his head in and equally curious Aisha, Alfred's smile froze for a moment, then he opened the door and let the two children in.
Hal sat slouched in the corner with a shotgun lying around. Seeing Dick come in, he tried hard to get up from the ground, then sighed helplessly and reluctantly:
"Alfred, I say it again, I am just a test pilot, not a qualified fighter pilot, and I have been transferred to logistics for more than three months now, I have absolutely zero recent training."
As he spoke, he pointed out the window and said: "The blizzard has indeed stopped, but the snow hasn't. Flying in this weather is simple suicide!"
Alfred turned around, came up to him, picked up the shotgun. Seeing him loading the gun, Hal shrank back into the corner, trembling he said:
"Forcing me is no use, I cannot knowingly walk down a path to death..."
He swallowed, then said: "If I still had the Green Lantern energy, maybe I could teleport to see what exactly happened, but..."
While speaking, he looked at Dick, and Dick understood. Alfred wanted to go to Metropolis to find Bruce. He raised his hand and said, "Just now I was able to control teleportation, maybe I could..."
"No, Young Master Dick, you can't." Alfred said without turning his head. Dick wanted to argue, but Aisha pulled him aside. Dick hesitated for a moment and said nothing.
Hal sighed, looking into Alfred's eyes, he said:
"Dick told me earlier that you raised Bruce like a father, I can understand your worry."
"My family disagreed with me becoming a pilot, they thought it was too dangerous. My father was the most opposed, but after I argued with him and insisted on testing flights, I saw him secretly shedding tears."
"Therefore, I went from being a test pilot to ground logistics. I promised him that if one day I must fly a fighter in the face of potential danger, I would consider all environmental factors, ensure my own safety, and not make him sad."
"The same is true for reverse, if Bruce knew you're planning to fly to Metropolis in this dangerous weather, he would be very upset, because it's really dangerous."
Hal looked straight into Alfred's eyes, hands on his hips:
"I trained in the air force base for a year and a half. I am very clear about the performance of the aircraft and the influence of weather conditions on flying..."
"I've seen the helicopter parked in the manor before. Although it seems to be modified, but..."
"Who said anything about a helicopter?"
In response to Alfred's cold retort, Hal looked puzzled.
Just then, he saw something out of the corner of his eye in the courtyard of the manor. Hal turned his head and witnessed a scene that stunned him.
The ground of the central courtyard of the manor slowly opened, then a black batplane rose from underneath.
The entire plane was painted in matte black. There were some engraved lines on the wings that distinguished it from standard jets but it was larger than most fighter jets Hal had seen at the air force base.
Hal swallowed hard. His eyes were transfixed. After a long pause, he said hesitantly:
"Please don't tell me that you want me to fly this thing to Metropolis."
"Who said you're the one flying?"
Hal widened his eyes again, looking at Alfred.
After ten minutes, looking at Alfred seated in the pilot's seat, Hal, after putting on a helmet, hesitated and said:
"I don't mean to question you, but flying a plane and driving a car are two very different things. And there's no runway here….."
Just as he finished speaking, a low rumbling engine roared, and "vroom", the jet took off directly and flew up into the sky.
When the jet stopped mid-air, Hal held his arm. The take-off had been too abrupt, and he hit his elbow. He hurriedly put on his helmet and then yelled at Alfred:
"Slow down! Slow down quickly! The weather doesn't permit…"
His words hadn't even had the chance to finish, the humming sound got louder and louder, and then, with a "whoosh", the black batplane rushed into the vast snowscape like a black bird in a storm.