Whoosh!
A current of air broke the stillness of the night, and in the woods of Smallville, the cold-covered pine needles exuded the scent of winter.
Eric's figure streaked across the sky, swiftly disappearing into the horizon.
A few minutes later.
Thud!
A dull thud sounded as Eric landed heavily on the windmill tower in the woods.
On the towering windmill tower, a cold wind howled.
Standing atop it, one could almost take in the entire scenery.
The silvery-white frosted pine needles in the woods, the sparkling lights of the distant town, white and pale yellow lights interweaving to form a dazzlingly beautiful scene.
Thud!
The air boomed as Clark's running speed in the woods, unleashed at full power, caused the air to boom and tremble.
Clark ran to the base of the windmill tower and looked up.
"Hey, Eric, you said you could teach me to fly, but... do we have to come to a place like this?"
Clark shouted up to Eric, who was standing on the windmill tower.
Although his heart was filled with excitement when he first heard that Eric could teach him to fly, he was still a little puzzled as to why they had to come to a place like this.
"No, actually, anywhere is fine."
Eric said indifferently, "It's just that I wanted to come to a place like this, to enjoy the scenery and clear my mind."
"Uh..."
Clark was momentarily choked, "Alright, then this place it is. But... I have to make it clear beforehand, when you teach me to fly, you can't be as irresponsible as you were when you trained my Heat Vision last time."
"Of course, come up first."
Eric said to him from above.
After dinner, Clark proposed to train his flying ability and hoped to get Eric's guidance and special training.
Although he really wanted to refuse immediately, Eric's mindset underwent a slight change after thinking about the Christmas gift Clark had given him.
So, he finally agreed to Clark's request.
This was also the reason why the two of them came here.
Clark climbed up the stairs of the windmill tower and stood beside Eric.
"What do we do next?"
Clark glanced down, then asked his younger brother.
"If you want to learn to fly, you must eliminate all your fear from your body."
Eric said to him, "Embrace the sky, instead of resisting, Clark. The fact that you dream of Lana and wake up floating in the air indicates that you already possess the talent for flight in your subconscious, but you can't do it in reality."
"The way to train is... to let you re-experience the feeling from your dream."
"Cough cough..."
Hearing Eric say that he floated in the air because he dreamed of Lana, Clark's expression was a bit awkward.
"How did you... know it was because you dreamed of Lana?"
"I heard your conversation with Mom and Dad, but that's not the point, the point is..."
As Eric spoke, he stretched out his hand and pushed Clark forward.
Losing his balance, Clark immediately fell downwards uncontrollably.
Thud!
Without any surprise, Clark, like an iron ball from the Leaning Tower of Pisa, crashed down heavily.
The frozen ground emitted a loud thud as Clark's body hit it.
Scattered stones and leaves on the ground spurted far outwards.
"Ugh..."
Clark, who landed face down on the ground, let out a painful groan.
Because he hadn't expected Eric to suddenly push him down, he was caught off guard and didn't adjust his posture, leading to an intimate encounter between his face and the ground.
Eric, standing on the windmill tower, looked at Clark, who was sprawled on the ground, and shook his head.
Still not working, huh?
"I don't think this murderous method will teach me to fly, Eric."
Clark moved his somewhat sore wrist and said to Eric with dissatisfaction.
His face was covered in a lot of dust, and his clothes were torn; he looked as disheveled as could be.
"Perhaps, but I think this is the best training method at this stage! Clark, the moment you are suspended in the air, you must learn to forget your fear, and instead, completely relax and experience that blissful feeling you have in your dreams."
Eric said earnestly.
"Uh..."
Hearing Eric say the words "blissful feeling," Clark was 100% sure that Eric was making fun of him.
"You..."
Before he could finish his sentence, he was pushed down from the tower by Eric again.
"Ugh ah...!"
The rushing wind was in his ears, and the sensation of weightlessness surfaced again.
That innate feeling of weightlessness when falling still prevented him from completely emptying his mind.
Thud!
His body hit the ground heavily, and all the surrounding fallen leaves were splashed away.
"Whew!"
Breathing heavily, the lingering feeling of falling from a height impacted his heart.
Bruce Wayne awoke from his chair, his chest heaving violently.
He had dreamed again of the day he fell into the Batcave as a child.
He was walking alone in the wilderness.
All around were waist-high weeds, and no matter how he walked, there seemed to be no end.
The inability to accept the loss of his parents forced him to run madly forward, wanting to escape it all as quickly as possible.
But the next second, his foot suddenly missed, and his body abruptly lost balance, falling from flat ground.
The helplessness of weightlessness, the pain of his body hitting the mud at the bottom of the well, and the bats flying everywhere, like a painful nightmare, replayed repeatedly in his mind.
"Master Bruce, do you really not need a rest?"
Alfred stood aside, asking Bruce, who had woken up, with some heartache.
Bruce, before him, was still using the satellite system on Christmas Eve, monitoring every move in Gotham's streets and alleys, seemingly not having any thoughts of Christmas.
"The meaning of Christmas has lost too much for me, Alfred."
Bruce stood up, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and said with a serious expression.
Ever since that night near Christmas when he lost everything in the alley, he had never again felt the joy that Christmas brought him.
"But Christmas, for us, always represents a day of summing up. The end of the year crossing into a new one, where all the suppression can be released. It... represents a new beginning, so Master Bruce... you can relax."
Alfred reminded him tactfully.
"Falling..."
Bruce shook his head, casting his slightly tired eyes towards Gotham displayed on the screen before him.
"I experienced the feeling of falling again."
"Master?"
"Alfred, if I continue this career, constantly combating crime and maintaining order in this city, never stopping, never compromising, always bathed in darkness. Then... will there come a day when I will be weary and fall, just like I fell into the Batcave as a child?"
Bruce asked his butler.
Alfred, silent for a moment, said, "No, Master, some people change. But some people never change, even if they are covered in wounds, battered and bruised, even if they can't walk, even if they can't pick up a weapon, they will never change."
"Master, you are the kind of person who will never change."
"Is that so?"
Bruce looked at the monitor with complex eyes, "Nothing in this world is constant. The most uncontrollable thing is human thought, ever-changing and unfathomable. I... I once saw two people whose power transcended the world. If they were to fall, then this world... who would be their opponent?"
"Even if there's only a one percent chance, I can't help but wonder if the devil is bound in a bottle, and who among us will be the one to uncork it?"
Facing Batman's question, Alfred did not answer; he didn't know how to answer.
Bruce said no more, instead turning his gaze to the monitors that watched every corner of Gotham.
A criminal act recorded by the monitor caught his attention.
"I'm going out for a bit, Alfred."
After greeting his butler, Bruce immediately walked towards his equipment.
"But Master... what about your Christmas apple pie?"
"You can keep it and eat it, Alfred."
The roar of the Bat-Motorcycle sounded, and Batman's voice was quickly drowned out by the roar of the motorcycle engine.
"Vroom!"
On Christmas night, Batman sped through the city's sewers in the Batmobile.
While driving the motorcycle, he pulled up the city map and planned his route.
The water in the sewers was splashed up, then rippled outwards.
The Bat-Motorcycle left a deep ripple in the sewer, then quickly returned to calm.
Thud!
A few minutes later, Batman appeared at the crime scene.
Looking at the surrounding buildings, he had a familiar feeling.
This is...
Crime Alley?
Crime Alley, where his parents died?!
Batman looked up at the sky; white crystalline flakes were falling.
He reached out and caught a snowflake falling from the sky.
Taking a deep breath, he walked towards this nightmare from his memory.
Stepping into the familiar alley, the familiar stale smell and the countless unpleasant memories that had appeared in his dreams replayed before his eyes.
The sound of gunshots rang out again, accompanied by his mother's scream, and blood splattered before his eyes.
His mother's white pearl necklace bounced up from her neck, scattering everywhere on the ground.
Even a white pearl jumped into his hand.
The torrent of memory receded in an instant.
The gunshots and blood, the white pearl necklace—all these illusions vanished in an instant.
Batman looked at the white pearl he held in his hand.
It wasn't a pearl, but a tiny snowflake.
Thud!
A sudden change occurred!
A dark figure instantly leaped out of the shadows, a gleaming katana in his hand, slashing towards Batman.
Batman, reacting first, rolled forward, dodging the katana that was horizontally slashing at him.
After quickly rolling to his feet, he immediately threw his grappling gun at the opponent.