The fireplace at Wayne Manor still burned warmly. The bitter wind outside could not penetrate this place at all, yet as Bruce Wayne sat there, it was as though all the darkness in the world had settled upon him. Alone, he was an entire city on a snowy night.
Schiller entered through the front door, removed his scarf and shook the snow from it, then handed his chilly coat to Alfred. Exhaling his last breath of cold air, he walked to the sofa and sat opposite Bruce.
"What do you need me for?"
"There's a job I need you to take."
"Don't joke around. I'm not an Agent; I don't love working that much." Schiller looked away.
"It's a perfect job for letting you be the mastermind behind the scenes," Bruce said evenly. "Head of Sky Eye—a position whose duties include manipulating superheroes."
Schiller narrowed his eyes at him. Bruce said, "You like doing that sort of thing, don't you? Drawing people's attention, controlling their emotions, watching them flail around like fish on a hook. Amanda's position was practically tailor-made for you."
"Are you trying to provoke me? Why? What would that get you?" Schiller asked.
"Nothing. I'm praising you," Bruce said. "You and Amanda are entirely different. She hates superheroes. She hates all Superpower Users. But you're different. You love them."
Bruce leaned forward to pick up the cup on the table, then said, "Your affection for them comes from a higher place, from some unknown source. Have you heard their legends? Or have superheroes from some universe appeared in works of fiction and become deeply beloved by you?"
Schiller's hand paused slightly. He looked at Bruce, but the gray-haired man's expression remained perfectly ordinary.
This was the first elderly Batman Schiller had encountered. So far, whether Main Universe