Chaoying Psychotherapist [Zhongyingmei]

Superman is always considerate, so when the mission in Kansas came to an end, Cynthia didn't feel too tired.

But her next mission location is Wayne Manor.

Cynthia: [I'm so tired.Can I go home? 】

System: [Can't. 】

Cynthia: […]

Wayne Manor, in the early morning, Cynthia came to the master's bedroom with ease.

Bruce's sleeping position this time is much more normal than last time, at least his head is exposed.

Moreover, his beard disappeared, and his clean chin became very pleasing to the eye.

He looked all right, just furrowing his brows tightly.

When Cynthia activates the ability, it can be seen that curled up beside Bruce's left shoulder is not a miniature playboy, but a black ball with a cape and cat ears.

Cynthia: [... Hey. 】

The system couldn't take it anymore: 【This is the third time you have sighed since you came in.Do you want to go in? 】

Cynthia: [Yes, please, don't rush me. 】

On a daytime day in Gotham, on the streets, the sky is an ominous gray.

The citizens are still living as before, and the streets are full of traffic.

The next moment, the high-rise building was smashed by something, and there was a terrible loud noise.

Bricks, steel and concrete slabs flew and ceilings rumbled and crashed into the streets.

People in the street screamed.Some of them barely escaped, some were smashed to the hands and feet, and groaned in pain, and some closed their eyes forever.

Alarms, smoke, screams, collapsed buildings, cracked asphalt roads... everything is messed up.

Bruce Wayne stepped down from his smashed sports car, protected the little girl who was lost beside him, and looked up at the sky.

There, two entangled figures flew across at high speed, crashing into more than a dozen buildings in a row.

One of them was wearing a red cloak.

The screen suddenly changed.

Streets, tall buildings, pedestrians...all disappeared.Looking up, there are ruins everywhere, accompanied by thick smoke and fire, the sky is so dark that it looks like the end of the world.

Bruce was wearing Batman's uniform, standing on the broken steel plate, raised his head, and looked at the figure opposite.

On the opposite side, Superman was wearing a black tights and a white cape, flying towards him slowly.

The "S" on his chest turned red even more strangely against the background color.

"Finally, it's all over," said Superman indifferently.

His expression was no longer the kindness and generosity in the real world, but became indifferent.

"Gotham's resistance is really tenacious, but it's actually not that difficult." He said, "Now, you're the only one left. Choose... Surrender, or let me play a little trick in your mind." surgery."

Batman's muscles tensed.He stared at Superman, gritted his teeth in pain and whispered: "You ruined the world. You ruined everything."

"I ruined everything?" Superman hung in mid-air, looking down at him casually, as if looking at an ant, "No, I created a new world. Isn't this world good? Absolutely peaceful, absolutely It is stable, there is no crime anymore, people can't quarrel, fight, or swim in the water...their life safety has been guaranteed like never before."

"But you have deprived human beings of their freedom, their right to choose, and everything they have to experience as a human being... Your rule is an absolute dictatorship!"

"Only absolute freedom can bring absolute peace!" Superman said in a high-pitched voice, raising his arms and flapping his cloak behind him, "Deep in your heart, don't you want this kind of peace? Didn't those two huge sores from your childhood ooze with rancid pus and tell you they miss you? Didn't everything you saw and experienced in this sin city turn into ghosts? , screaming at you that they want to?

... The wreckage you saw in the theater, the fire and dust, the guilt, regret, and despair that lasted a lifetime, the tyrannical beast that was locked in the depths of your soul, didn't you scream in your ears? Roar - they really want to? "

Under Batman's angry glare, Superman smiled contemptuously.He waved his hand, and for some reason, a figure that looked like Cynthia condensed.

That Cynthia was covered in blood, with an unknown amount of smoke and dust on her face, and shocking scars on her hands and feet.With her eyes closed, she didn't breathe, and Superman grabbed her neck and lifted her up without any resistance, her arms and legs hanging down limply.

"Look, this is the result of your weakness." Superman shook his arm, watching Cynthia's body swinging lifelessly, and said jokingly.

"--Do not!"

Batman's eyes widened.

"How dare you? How dare you?!" he growled, rushing forward recklessly.

Superman smiled intently, looking at him like a clown.

"Don't forget that you killed her yourself."

The real Cynthia finally couldn't take it anymore.

With a low curse, she rushed between the two of them, raised her palm, and shouted, "Stop—!"

They stopped.

But in the next moment, Cynthia felt a gust of wind blowing behind her, and her whole body was thrown to the ground by a huge force.

Her vision was blurred, and her back felt a dull pain from being hit on the ground. After finally refocusing her eyes, she saw another Batman pressing on top of her, looking down at her from a high position, holding her jaw with one hand, low and dangerous. Terrified: "Who are you?!"

Like Captain America, he has a lucid sanity in his dreams.

But the first thought of his reason was to guard against her.

Looking at his pitch-black mask, Cynthia felt a burst of anger.

As soon as she gritted her teeth, the figure disappeared in an instant, leaving a few shining silver powder floating in place.

Batman's hand was empty, he was startled for a while, and immediately got up, looking behind vigilantly.

Cynthia floated in mid-air, staring at him with frowning eyes, her body shining like the moon in the dark night.

Her light is gentle and powerful, shining in the darkest moment of the extremely dark place, but it is not repelled by it, and it will not be forced back every night like the sun.She was conceived by the night, brought up by the night, but she grew into a bright appearance; she is different from the night itself, and can perfectly blend into it.

Batman stared blankly at her familiar face, opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything.

After a long time, he repeated dryly: "...Who are you? Why did you appear in my dream?"

Cynthia still didn't speak, her star-studded eyes didn't move at all, she just looked at him quietly.

"Tell me!" he growled.

Only silence.

For some reason, Batman clenched his fists as if he couldn't bear it, and eagerly took a small step forward, looking at her pleadingly with his masked eyes.

"Tell me... why are you here?"

With that small step, the uniform on his body slowly disappeared like ashes blown away by the wind.Only Bruce Wayne, who belonged to Gotham during the day, was left standing on the roof, his blue eyes filled with sadness that was about to overflow.

He stared at her and asked in a hoarse voice, "Why did you appear?...Why did you appear?"

Cynthia finally sighed slowly.

"You know," she said quietly, "you know why I'm here."

Bruce clenched his fists.

"No," he said, "no, I don't know."

Cynthia looked at him for a while, and sighed softly: "Okay. If you don't want me to appear, I will leave."

Bruce pursed his lips, stared at her closely, and said, "...No."

Cynthia shook her head and smiled helplessly.

"You don't understand," Bruce said, "today's dream had nothing to do with you, you couldn't have appeared in the first place."

"Really?" Cynthia looked at him, and stretched out her finger to Superman who was immobilized on the side. His hand was still strangling the corpse's neck.

"What's that?" she asked.

Bruce closed his eyes.

Cynthia shook her head again, and said in a low voice: "That corpse is me, you know it is....But I didn't appear because of it, but because of Superman."

Bruce paused, looking up at her.

Cynthia looked at Superman's white cape: "Are you aware of it? How similar he is to me at that time...for you?"

Bruce frowned in protest.

"He's nothing like you. There's no comparison," he said disapprovingly.

"He just wanted to help, Bruce." Cynthia frowned. "Why do you always try to keep everyone out of your life?"

Bruce's eyes widen, angry like a cat whose tail has been stepped on.

"He's dangerous!" he hissed. "Superman is—"

"——Superman is dangerous. He is stupid, impulsive, and unable to withstand blows. He is powerful, immortal, and has no limits. He is an unstable bomb. , he is your restless self." Cynthia took his words calmly.

Bruce stared at her blankly.

"But have you ever thought that all the bad things haven't happened yet, all of this—" She pointed to the black and white Superman, to herself in his hands, and to the endless ruins behind her, "It doesn't exist now thing."

"You can't blame a person for something that hasn't happened, Bruce. He's just someone who wants to help now, and trying to stop it will only lead to tragedy... unknown but terrible tragedy."

She looked at Bruce sadly, and said softly, "You know it."

Bruce looked into her eyes, as if defeated, and took a step back.

"What can I do?" He shook his head in self-denial, and murmured, "What can I do?...I'm already very sick."

Cynthia looked at his somewhat embarrassed appearance, as if she could vaguely glimpse a soul covered in bruises.

She couldn't help sighing, and softened her voice: "You know more about the world than him." She said, "Since he is young, reckless, and unstable, why don't you change the method of supervision? You also You can't live like this forever, he can give you specific help."

Bruce was silent.

After a while, he slumped his shoulders, lowered his head, and muttered, "...Batman doesn't need help."

Cynthia smiled.

"But you need to," she said.