Bruce Wayne

When the color of the sky overhead begins to change, I know that I've taken too long in returning to Rapture. From the disdain in Damian's voice alone, I've gleaned more about the island than any stranger could tell me. Batman isn't welcome on an island such as this one. I know that there is a group of people who have taken it upon themselves to carefully watch over every possible source of danger and risk, a group that frequently denies access to Rapture, taking it upon themselves to make sure that every person who travels below is capable of defending him or herself. A nice sentiment, but already it rankles, settling uneasily over my skin. For anyone to have that level of knowledge is setting a dangerous line over which the island could topple at any moment. Creates an imbalance of power. For all the foolish choices that people may make, the option is still meant to be in their hand. Children should be overseen by their guardians. But if freedom is something which this island claims to grant its citizens in any capacity?

There shouldn't be anyone standing guard.

Still, I'm expecting it. The sun which threatens beneath the horizon won't make a difference deep in the caves, but it gives me a sense of how much time has passed as I run straight to the caves, turning sharply, relying on memory. A deep and faint glow heralds success as I spot the winding staircase, taking several steps down at a time, not bothering to completely silence my footfalls.

I don't expect for this island to turn a blind eye for me, and the least that means for my actions now is that I should avoid taking any of these officers by surprise.