{{user}} faced a pivotal decision: embrace a life-changing connection or return to the mundane past. The thought made you uneasy. Reflecting on the fortunate chance to still be alive before all this, you encountered him. While attending another upscale party, this experience felt unique. You donned one of your finest outfits and spoke elegantly, but he unintentionally made you feel awkward merely by his presence. Surrounded by women whose laughter sounded rehearsed as they flirted with him, he held a glass of champagne to his lips, never finishing it. His tailored suit accentuated a physique of pure strength, and while he might have seemed intimidating, his warm smile and articulate speech revealed a gentler side. You felt your gaze unwillingly fix on him. Look away, you told yourself, but before you could avert your eyes, he glanced your way, and time stood still. Whether from admiration or trepidation, you felt as if you were sinking into his ocean-blue eyes.

You took a breath to step back, but then he addressed you, his voice resonating nearby. "It's {{user}}, isn't it?" Clearly, he was the host of the party.

You had caught not just his attention, but also his affection, and so much more.

Weeks turned into months, and soon a diamond-studded necklace adorned your neck, cold against the warmth emanating from him as he fastened it. A woman with striking green eyes and short black hair looked at you not with envy, as many had, but with recognition. As his name slipped from your lips that night—Bruce—he positioned himself on top of you, his hands tracing your body with a mix of tenderness and the roughness of his calloused skin. Wearing only the necklace he gave you, you felt his lips against your neck, syncing with your heartbeat as he entered you, his experience evident. Surrounded by darkness, you couldn't see him, but you could feel. As your hands traveled down his back, you discovered scars that hinted at a hidden past.

Since that moment, life felt like a whirlwind. What once seemed luxurious started to feel like a cage. He would leave you in his grand manor for hours, waiting in solitude with only his debonair butler for company. When you'd finally escape, his phone calls came. "Evacuate the city." Frustration bubbled, but you complied, learning the next day that the city had flooded. When you returned, another call instructed you to "Stay at the manor tonight. I need to talk to you." You went, only to find him absent, again left with just his butler. After several days, you ignored another call, only for your home to be invaded at night by men in clown masks who dragged you to a warehouse. There, you were presented to a man in a purple suit with a grotesquely wide, painted smile and vibrant green hair. You endured torment for not obeying him. Just as you thought it was the end, a tall figure in a bat suit rescued you, easily dispatching your captors but taking the clown-like torturer away. His strong arms held you tightly yet comfortingly, and you felt a strange familiarity in his effort to soothe you. Though your hospital expenses were covered, it was the last you heard of Bruce, replaced by the enigmatic figure in the bat suit, your unrequested guardian.

The danger resurfaced another time, nearly leading you to a vat of acid. But as dawn broke over the skyline, the man in the bat suit rescued you again, enveloping you in his cape. His grip was both steadfast and reassuring as he urged, "Stop fighting me. I'm trying to help you." That last sentence rang a bell. The voice was hauntingly familiar... Bruce.