11: The Proposition [2]
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I blinked, somewhat taken aback by the revelation. Well, it's not like I wasn't anticipating this, but hearing it directly from Ra's is a different experience than what I had imagined.
Still, I hadn't fully decided what course of action to take. The best approach is to buy myself some more time before coming to a definitive decision.
"Why me?" I inquired, pretending to be unaware. "It hasn't been that long since I joined the League, just a matter of days."
Ra's smirked, a faint chuckle escaping his lips as he glanced at me. "True."
He motioned for me to follow him, and we began descending the hill, heading toward the mansion.
"The League, or more precisely, I've had my eyes on you for a longer time than you might believe." Ra's revealed.
"I'm not sure whether I should feel concerned or honored by that information." I remarked genuinely. After all, it's not an everyday occurrence to discover that a whole group of assassins has been meticulously observing your every move for years. I'm leaning more towards the concerned side.
"You have no reason to be concerned, Bruce." He assured with a polite smile. "The reason you captured my interest was because I saw a reflection of myself in you."
Ra's paused before the mansion as its massive doors were swung open by servants from within. He entered the building, and I followed closely behind.
"Your parents were taken from you by a monster driven by greed. You grew up in a city engulfed by crime and corruption, yet you chose the path of good. You aspired to save a city that had been tainted by darkness, seeing a glimmer of hope within it." He explained, leading me through the mansion's inner gallery. My gaze wandered over the various artifacts that adorned the space – relics Ra's had amassed over his many centuries of life.
"To be honest, I had my doubts. But you shattered them when you emerged from the Lazarus Pit, your determination unbroken." He said, his eyes conveying a knowing look.
"Bruce Wayne, you are the ideal candidate to carry on my legacy." Ra's extended his arms as if inviting me to embrace the greatness he had built. "However, the choice of whether to accept lies entirely with you."
He moved closer and rested his arm gently on my shoulder. "So, what do you say?"
I exhaled slowly, locking eyes with him. He awaited my response with a stern expression, while inside, I continued to weigh my options. After a brief internal deliberation, I sighed and found my answer.
"Ra's al Ghul." I began, causing his eyebrows to lift in curiosity.
"I'm deeply honored that you'd even consider me capable of being your successor." His lips curled into a smile, but that expression shifted to a frown after my next words.
"However, ever since the day my parents were brutally murdered right before my eyes, my focus has been on seeking vengeance against those who have turned the city into the cesspool it is today. I've trained and sacrificed to reshape Gotham into the vision my father had for it." Ra's frown faded as he maintained an attentive demeanor, and I continued.
"I'm afraid that assuming the responsibility of leading the League might divert my focus from that vengeance."
"What do you propose then?" Ra's inquired sternly.
"I need time to thoroughly think this over." I responded.
Ra's remained silent for a couple of moments, his gaze fixed on mine, his mind undoubtedly calculating possibilities.
"Very well." He finally conceded, beckoning a servant. "Take all the time you need. We shall reconvene for dinner."
"Thank you." I thought it went smoother than expected. I sighed as he ordered the servant to guide me to one of the rooms within the mansion.
"I will promise you this, Wayne." Ra's said as he began to walk away. "The instant you choose to embark on your crusade against this city, the League will pledge itself to your cause. The decision, ultimately, rests with you."
I nodded as I watched him leave, his figure receding. The servant called my attention, and I turned to follow him. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as I contemplated the weight of the decision before me.
I collapsed onto the opulent bed as soon as the servant departed, leaving me alone in the grand room. I stared up at the glass-filled ceiling, a sense of gravity settling over me as the weight of the decision began to sink in.
To be honest, Gotham could go to hell for all I cared. The city had become a tangled mess of corruption and crime. My claim of being committed to its redemption was merely an excuse, a cover for my lingering uncertainty about joining the League.
Ra's al Ghul was, truth be told, an eco-terrorist. His vision of a balanced world seemed like a fusion of Hydra and Thanos' ideologies.
He aimed to eradicate evil from humanity, yet he viewed all humans as inherently corrupt, effectively advocating for the destruction of humanity itself.
But did I truly care? The answer was no. I had those crossed moral boundaries long ago, and if need be, I could cross them again.
The real dilemma boiled down to my aspirations as Bruce Wayne.
What did I truly want?
To live a life of freedom, unburdened by others' expectations, to indulge my desires without scrutiny. However, this didn't exactly align with the principles of a hero.
I had no intention of dedicating years of my life to the seemingly futile cause of saving Gotham. The city's redemption seemed beyond reach, a fact I had come to terms with.
However, I also didn't envision myself taking on the role of a villain like Lex Luthor.
In the DC universe, the bad guys rarely won, I blame it on the plot but anyhow, someone would always rise to oppose them, ensuring the villains eventual downfall.
So, if I wanted to truly enjoy unrestricted freedom, the keys laid in controlling the pieces on both sides of the chessboard.
A smirk curved on my lips as I closed my eyes, exhaustion from the rigorous training sessions beginning to catch up with me. I settled into the comfortable bed, my thoughts swirling as weariness slowly lulled me to sleep.
Undoubtedly, things were about to become immensely intriguing.
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A/N: Answer for the previous: Death
Spray your stones on me like I'm a LGBTblahblah protester. [I hate that group by the way.]
And here is a joke.
How many billionaires does it take to make a superhero?
The answer, three, two to die and one to never get over it.
Suggest me some good songs to hear while I write.
Comment your thoughts about the chapters.
Have a great day. ┌(・.・)┘♪