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Episode 3
Part 5 - Everything is going "according to plan"
Through the darkness of the dungeon where dragons were imprisoned, Bruce carefully made his way forward, feeling the damp chill and the rotten stench of the stone walls. In the dimness, amidst strange shadows and the trembling light of torches, Missandei, Daenerys's loyal advisor, stood beside him. She had been trying to dissuade him from this venture the entire way. Behind them stood two guards, pale and nervously glancing at the stone doors behind which the dragons were held captive. These mercenaries were brave enough to serve Daenerys, but wise enough to fear her "children."
Missandei, seemingly out of all her usual arguments, once again tried to talk some sense into him:
— My queen, — her voice trembled, though her face remained composed. — Maybe we should discuss this with the council once more? They—
— Screw that council; they're all a bunch of idiots, — Bruce gritted his teeth, frowning without any attempt to hide his irritation. — They have no clue what they’re doing. Give 'em to me for one day in my world, and I'd smear them all over the wall.
Missandei froze, clearly taken aback. She had always seen her queen as strong, but had never witnessed such fury. She had changed abruptly, becoming someone entirely different over these past few weeks. Missandei hesitated, her eyes glinting with confusion and doubt. She had overheard her queen drop strange phrases about "another world," and even refer to herself in the masculine once or twice. But now, looking at this tense face and hard gaze, all she felt was fear and bewilderment.
— You’re acting… strange, my queen, — she spoke cautiously. — These talks of… “smearing against the wall” and “another world”… I… I don’t understand. You don’t seem like yourself.
But Bruce was ignoring her, anticipating his meeting with the dragons. He stood before the massive doors behind which the dragons, his "children", waited. Children, for god's sake. The word grated on his nerves, and Bruce even smirked to himself. Yet, as hard as he tried to deny it, even to himself, a strange feeling of excitement surged in his chest. Dragons. He had always thought of things like this as childish nonsense, something slapped on the cover of trashy books or depicted in old games. He couldn’t quite imagine how anyone could take these stories seriously—scaly monsters spitting fire—all of it sounded like outright nonsense.
But if they really were as powerful as these nerds kept insisting, and if they truly responded only to strength, it stirred a spark of thrill in him. He placed his small hands on the shutters and tried to push the heavy doors, straining his arms until pain flared in his shoulders, but—nothing. The doors didn’t even budge. Bruce grimaced, feeling how he nearly dislocated his shoulder trying to push the massive doors. Yet the doors didn’t even tremble. He braced his foot against the floor, summoning all his strength, but all he got was a maddening sense of weakness and the ridiculous way his chest quivered with the sudden exertion. He exhaled in frustration, annoyed with this useless body. Though really, it wasn’t about the body—the damn door was immovable even for a hulking man. Bruce knew this, but he still felt humiliated and exposed.