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Part 11
Her words stirred up a mix of irritation and boredom in Bruce. 'What damn hopes? What the hell kind of “salvation” are they talking about?' To him, this was all just pointless crap—he had clear priorities, and no one’s "hopes" had any place in his plans. Besides, there was no rebellion brewing in front of him, and this deal looked way better than those past days when he’d been stuck as Daenerys in Meereen.
— So what? — he said, addressing her with open disdain. — What the hell kind of betrayal are you talking about?! These guys look… — he glanced around at the envoys, noticing the smiles creeping onto their faces, clearly pleased with Daenerys’s behavior. — Yeah, like everyone else around here. Why should I care about these local idiots? We’ve got gold, we’ve got ships. Let’s just take what’s ours and leave, let them sort out their own crap.
At his words, the Yunkai envoy’s face lit up, and he gave a slight nod to his companion. Judging by their expressions, they were more than satisfied with this turn of events.
Missandei froze, her face darkening as though confronted with something beyond understanding. She sighed, barely shaking her head, and spoke again, softer this time, as if trying to reason with him.
— My queen, please remember that these people don’t just expect conquest from you—they look to you for freedom. They believe you will change their lives, that you are their Mhysa, their mother and liberator.
A surge of frustration flared up inside Bruce. His fingers twitched at the hem of the light dress. 'Mhysa! Mother! Damn it, this crap again!' — those words only filled him with confusion and barely contained anger. He had no desire to be anyone’s mother, much less their liberator. He wanted to be back in his world, but gold and ships would do for now.
Bruce sighed heavily, not hiding his irritation at this endless performance. He glanced once more at the gleaming gold and, ignoring the tense faces of his advisors, stood up and took a step forward.
— Fine. Yeah, a great deal, for fuck’s sake! We’ll take the gold and ships. And get the hell out of here, — he said, as if it had been obvious from the start.
The Yunkai envoy beamed and bowed, as if he’d just been relieved of a heavy burden. His companions also relaxed, their faces showing clear relief.
Missandei froze, her face a mixture of horror and disappointment, as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. Jorah, too, looked bewildered, though anger and sadness flashed in his eyes. The envoys, however, allowed themselves faint smiles, finally feeling a sense of ease.
Bruce felt a surge of satisfaction—he’d made his decision, finally realizing that he could put an end to this crap. 'That’s it, I’m out of here!' he mentally celebrated his victory, almost losing his composure from joy.
But before he could even take a step toward the chest, the air around him grew thick, almost like a dense fog. The faces of the envoys and advisors began to blur and fade, as if melting away in a hazy mirage. Sounds around him became muffled, like he was surrounded by walls barely letting in the noise from outside. At first, he felt a slight dizziness, but then everything around him began to crumble, sinking into darkness.
— No, not again! — he shouted, but his voice echoed coldly, soon dissolving into the void.
Everything around him vanished, and he was once again left alone in the endless dark, just like before—with no bearings, no sounds, not a single hint of light. Moments, or maybe an eternity, stretched out in that formless space. His thoughts flickered like tiny sparks, appearing and immediately fading one by one. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, stripped of everything.