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Part 13
But even more than that, he could never get used to these sudden displacements. 'Again… What the hell even is this?' he thought as irritation and rage flared within him. He felt a strange heaviness and weakness, as though every cell in his body was protesting against yet another shift. His head spun slightly, and a nervous tremor ran under his skin, impossible to shake. His whole body ached as if after a brutal workout.
Despite it all, Bruce, struggling to keep his frustration in check and not fully understanding what was wanted of him here, reached out and took the staff, feeling its cold weight in his hand. For a moment, he stared at it in complete bewilderment, not sure what to do with it. The staff seemed like a symbol of power, but all this—the warriors standing in flawless lines, the arrogant slavemasters reeking of sweat and disdain, and even the stifling air of Astapor—annoyed him to his core.
Thin, mocking voices began to murmur nearby in a foreign language, and although Bruce couldn’t understand the words, he could guess from the tone that they were insulting him. It seemed to him that every tone, every glance carried mockery, reminding him that he controlled neither the army nor the situation.
'To hell with all of this… crap! I’m so damn sick of this shit,' he thought angrily, fuming at the absurdity of it all. Glancing over at the dragon, which stood nearby, huffing irritably, he noticed that its new “owners” were hauling it away on heavy chains, as though it were just a docile beast. The dragon resisted, struggled, but the chains held fast, and the new owners led it away, while Bruce simply smirked. 'Not so tough now, are you?' he thought sarcastically, watching the dragon get dragged off like an ordinary captive. There was a strange, spiteful satisfaction in seeing this majestic creature, which had terrified him in that cave, being led away by common men.
Yet he was too worn out from all these shifts. Clutching the staff tightly, he turned, intending to walk away. At that moment, all he wanted was some peace, a chance to make some sense of this crazy situation, these strange relocations, and to rest and gather his strength.
But as he took a few steps, the hum of sounds, voices, and scents around him began to fade. The world around him started to dissolve again, like a mirage under the scorching sun, gradually vanishing into thick, ominous darkness. Bruce stopped, confused about what was happening. A familiar chill of dread swept over him.
— Again? What the hell… — he breathed, feeling his consciousness once more slipping into that endless void, leaving him alone again, unsupported, out of control, and with no idea where he would end up next.