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Part 15
'Damn it, I should have figured this out sooner…' Bruce gritted his teeth, fuming at himself and this cursed world. Every part of him rebelled against following the storyline. Memories of the smug faces of those nerds, who’d explained all this “canonical importance,” flashed through his mind. They’d yammered on about how “the plot is inevitable,” “the story has to follow the destined path.” Those memories stoked his anger to the limit, and it took everything he had not to scream in powerless rage.
'So those idiots were right… Goddammit, just great,' he thought as he looked around, trying to calm himself. 'Think, Bruce, think, damn you!' He stared at the fire, feeling as though it were drawing him in, yet the very idea of stepping into it seemed sheer insanity. He leaned down toward the eggs, feeling long strands of blonde hair fall forward, brushing his face, while his chest tugged down uncomfortably, weighing on his skin. 'God, I hate being a chick!' He angrily brushed the hair from his face, lifting the heavy eggs from the ground.
The fire’s heat was palpable even at this distance as he tried to gather his composure while holding the eggs. 'Alright, if that dumb Mother of Dragons actually survived here, then… obviously she didn’t walk into the damn fire! Where are these crazy thoughts even coming from that I need to go in?!' Bruce shook his head, letting out a sarcastic snort. 'This is ridiculous! She clearly didn’t walk into the fire; she just tossed the eggs in. Dragons hatched, everyone’s happy, the end!' With that thought, he looked around, noticing the Dothraki holding their breath, watching his every move.
— Yeah, yeah, I’m going! — he grumbled, clenching his jaw as he noticed the Dothraki’s faces frozen in awe, as if they were already witnessing a miracle.
Bruce could barely stand, his legs almost buckling from exhaustion after the endless relocations. The eggs in his hands felt heavier than they really were. His body felt weak, even more so than usual, every muscle and cell pleading for rest. The fire ahead flickered ominously, casting eerie reflections, and the heat radiating from it grew more intense with each second, as if it were purposely pushing him away.
He took a step closer, his mind circling around one insane idea. 'Well, I know that crazy woman got her dragons here, so all I have to do is get close and toss the eggs into the fire. No need to go into the flames—it’s just plain stupid. At best, I’ll get thrown somewhere else, and at worst, I’ll be dead as hell!'
Each step was an effort, and his heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. His vision blurred as he pushed through the heat, feeling his knees grow weaker with each step. 'Damn it, why am I so weak?' Bruce gritted his teeth in frustration, fighting with each step as he moved closer to the fire. His arms strained to hold up the eggs, which felt impossibly heavy, and the hot air around him spun his head even more.
Finally, he reached the fire and stood there, breathing heavily, clutching the eggs so tightly his fingers turned white. The heat scorched his face and hands, and every breath felt like swallowing hot coals that burned his lungs. He felt his clothes sticking to his body with sweat, and a tremor rose from his legs that he could barely control.