(This chapter may switch scenes rather frequently. If you get motion sickness, proceed with caution. I warned you!)
"What surprised me was that this city's new generation was far less chaotic and vicious than they appeared. Beneath their deliberately fierce exteriors lay calm, clear-headed hearts with considerable foresight. They would be Gotham's future."
"What they did shocked me deeply, and it all began with the storm that arrived that night..."
The fountain pen lifted from the page. Bruce lightly stroked its side with his fingers, then looked up at the rain pouring beyond the wooden blinds. Raindrops battered the glass, leaving dense beads of water behind.
The droplets slid downward and vanished beneath the windowsill. On the desk, beneath the dim yellow light of the lamp, the jagged tear marks where a calendar page had been removed were clearly visible. The date on it had been circled, with several words written beside it: "Two days until submission."
Glancing at that date, Bruce checked the progress of his paper. He knew he needed to pick up the pace.
The rain outside reminded him of the day the storm had arrived while he was with the Children's Gang, shortly after the exam had begun.
Gotham's heavy rain did not merely bring the Affluent Area's residents a peaceful night's sleep. It also brought an unexpected disaster upon the children struggling through its streets and alleys.
When it rains, it pours. That was more than just a saying. A leaking shelter was terrifying for the children, because everyone knew that catching a cold was the most dreadful terminal illness, and a fever was a death sentence.
So, after discovering that their once-safe base was leaking, the first thing to sweep through the place was panic.
"Stop it! Quit shouting!" Bruce yelled. "Calm down! As