Bruce was awakened by chaotic, clamorous noise. He heard the synchronized footsteps of armed personnel rushing in, like the disorderly footsteps he had heard outside his window on so many nights in Gotham's East End, when gangs were shooting it out.
In an instant, the damp, moldy smell of that cramped room returned, along with the atmosphere of moonlight and night wind stirring the curtains as usual.
Bruce jolted awake and heard someone shouting curses. It might have been Amanda. She had taken Bane away and locked him in a harsh sensory deprivation cell as well.
Bruce could not make an accurate judgment, because the drug-like hallucinations had not yet faded. He had cleared less than a tenth of the massive pile of redundant code he had created for himself. Perhaps he would be accompanied by hallucinations for a long time to come.
But Bruce felt it was worth it, because he had just figured something out—the key to how Schiller had manipulated him.
But first, he had to find Bane.
Bruce had not entirely failed to hear what Bane said to him. He had merely been busy typing code at the time and had no time to reply. Yet every word had been faithfully recorded. Once he withdrew from the depths of his mental space, he began carefully pondering the information within.
The most striking part was not Bane's account of his past. Bruce had actually guessed some of it already. What truly interested Bruce was what Bane had said about how he would kill him.
On the second day after Bane was taken to the sensory deprivation cell, he heard Bruce's voice outside his door.
"Hello, Bane."
Bane considered his emotional control excellent. Years of torment had made him as cold as iron, but when Bruce's cheerful tone