Without even a moment to mourn Savrok's death, the one who arrived on the scene was—
the Lord of Change, Tzeentch.
Blue coloring. A bizarre bird shape. Ghostly flames. A cryptic way of speaking. Instantly digging up personal information.
Every sign pointed to the true identity of the thing before him.
What the hell?!
Why Tzeentch of all things?!
The moment Bruce realized what sort of iron plate he'd just kicked, his first reaction was not panic over how to survive, but sheer confusion.
In the original story, Savrok did eventually fall to Chaos during his bid for power and become a disgrace to mankind—but he had never been specifically tied to any one god. So how in the world had this turned into a Tzeentch problem?
Mom! Curze! Save me!
"Oh? So after realizing what I am, your first thought isn't how to save yourself, but to pray for someone else to save you?"
"Hahahaha—"
Tzeentch, who could read every one of Bruce's thoughts with perfect precision, was thoroughly amused.
This was exactly why outsiders from another world were so interesting.
And precisely because of that, they were worth playing with.
Far rarer than a primarch, a one-of-a-kind curiosity.
"What… do you want?" Bruce stood frozen in place, able only to endure the pain spreading ever deeper through his body.
He knew that if he yielded, the pain would stop.
But he also knew that the moment he did, there would be no going back.
This was how the Chaos Gods pulled people in. The moment you gave in, you were finished. That was the same as selling your soul.
At the same time, Bruce's thoughts raced, and very quickly he grasped why Tzeentch had appeared after Savrok's death.
Because of change.
Tzeentch was the god of change. Savrok's death had turned him into a variable. It would have been strange if Tzeentch hadn't noticed.
"So clever. More than I expected. That only makes you more desirable."
"There's no need to be afraid. I have brought you a gift."
"A bargain. One that benefits us both."
Tzeentch's voice turned soft and coaxing.
"Become my follower, and I will grant you wisdom beyond mortal imagining, along with mighty psychic arts."
"You will become my most cherished servant, and I will grant you the privilege of roaming the endless sea of knowledge."
"Well?"
"Bruce Wayne."
"That sounds like way too much trouble," Bruce said, utterly unmoved.
In fact, he almost wanted to laugh.
"You know, I hate thinking. I hate studying too. If I had the choice, I'd rather just laze around like a useless dog."
As a model wage slave raised through nine years of compulsory education and another four years of university, Bruce knew exactly what knowledge meant.
Too much knowledge was a good thing—but it was not good for everybody.
Some people loved learning.
Others definitely did not.
So Tzeentch was seriously presenting all that as a benefit?
That wasn't a blessing. That was torture.
"...?" Tzeentch went silent for a moment, sensing that Bruce's refusal was completely genuine.
This man really could reject an offer like that without hesitation?
I underestimated you.
"Then give me the knowledge inside your mind, and I will grant you one wish," Tzeentch said, changing tactics at once.
After all, within this domain, once Bruce chose to agree, everything Tzeentch wanted would still fall into his hands.
"I'll pass, you bastard. I'm not telling you a damn thing!"
Bruce's reply came out in a thick, forceful accent.
The very next instant, a powerful surge of electricity blasted through his body. Even with his enhanced physique, the pain was indescribable—sharp, numb, burning, excruciating.
"AAAAAAAHHHHH—!"
Bruce's muscles spasmed like they had swallowed an entire packet of popping candy. His face twisted so hard with pain it barely looked human anymore.
And yet even then, he still did not yield. Not even a little.
"Why insist on this? You cannot escape. From the moment you brought about change, you became the brightest piece on the board."
"Bruce, there is no need to torment yourself. I can give you everything you desire."
"You know very well what sort of power I possess."
"..."
Bruce did not answer.
After a long while, the current faded. His muscles finally relaxed enough for him to breathe again.
Then, with great sincerity, he shouted:
"Yo! Grandpa Emperor! Save me!"
"Tzeentch is trying to kill me!"
"..."
Listening to Bruce cry for help, Tzeentch felt only a deep sense of secondhand embarrassment.
Damn this brat. No manners at all. Calling people by their true names just like that? I'm your elder, you little wretch!
And then Bruce started swearing.
Violently.
Endlessly.
For half an hour straight.
Every line filthier than the last.
Every insult layered with the rot of Nurgle, the fury of Khorne, and the artistic flourish of Slaanesh.
It was unbelievable.
"Finished screaming?" Tzeentch asked after enduring the torrent of abuse for a full thirty minutes, sounding slightly heated now.
Bruce licked his dry lips and nodded honestly.
"Yep. Done."
"Then answer me. Will you become my servant? If so, offer me your true name."
At this point even Tzeentch sounded tired.
If Bruce had been anyone else, it would not have mattered whether he swore loyalty or not. So long as he brought change and amusement, that would have been enough.
But Bruce came from another world.
If he did not swear loyalty and offer up his soul, then Tzeentch could not obtain the knowledge of that other universe.
And that knowledge mattered far more than mere amusement.
It was like discovering the coordinates to a new continent. The treasure itself was secondary. The truly important thing was the source that could produce endless treasure.
"I am Bruce Wayne," Bruce said, head held high.
"No. That is not your real name. Don't think I don't know. You merely occupied the body of a human who should have died."
"Tell me your true name, my child."
"I am Bruce Wayne."
"Do you think you can mock me? Tell me your name!"
"I am Bruce Wayne."
"You cannot deceive me. That is not your name!"
"I am Bruce Wayne."
"You—!"
"I am Bruce Wayne."
The exchange continued.
Ten thousand times.
Ten million times.
No matter what Tzeentch asked, Bruce gave the same answer.
"I am Bruce Wayne."
It got to the point where the Lord of Change wanted to strangle this broken record.
"I am Bruce Wayne."
"..."
"I am Bruce Wayne."
"I haven't even said anything yet…"
"Then go ahead."
"You cannot just—"
"I am Bruce Wayne," Bruce interrupted.
"Enough! Do you take me for a clown?"
Tzeentch lashed out again with electricity, trying once more to force Bruce into submission.
But after tens of millions of rounds, Bruce had practically become used to it. He could even force out a few broken words through the twitching of his own muscles.
"You... can't... affect... realspace... directly..."
The current stopped.
Tzeentch fell silent.
Then came a cold, spine-chilling laugh.
"So you know that much, do you? Bruce. I truly did underestimate you."
"If you could really descend into the material universe directly, you wouldn't need to waste this much breath," Bruce said flatly. "It's still 30K, after all."
Once he thought it through, the answer was obvious enough.
The thing before him was at most half an illusion, not Tzeentch's true self.
Which made Bruce's response simple:
Do not yield.
Do not agree.
Do not consent.
As long as he refused on every level, Tzeentch could do nothing.
Even Chaos Gods had to obey certain baseline laws when they wanted to corrupt a soul.
"If you refuse, then you will never leave this place," Tzeentch threatened.
"Then I just won't leave." Bruce shrugged. "If I can keep you tied up in here long enough, then the Emperor's Great Crusade succeeds. So tell me—which one of us is really in a hurry?"
"No, no, Bruce. Within your mental world, the only time being wasted is yours."
"Oh? So you admit it, then." Bruce's mouth curled upward. "Hmph↗."
"..."
Tzeentch gritted its teeth and bore it.
"I must admit, Bruce, you are the most interesting soul I have ever encountered. But do not think you have won. If I can drag you into this realm once, then there can always be a second time."
"No. There absolutely won't be a second time." Bruce shook his head.
Just as no one who had seen that one cursed thing online ever went searching for it a second time, Bruce knew that after suffering through this once, he would be on guard forever after.
Unless someone literally grabbed him by the face and dragged him into the Warp, he was confident he could avoid this happening again.
Because the answer was simple:
Doraemon, help me out here!
"..."
Hearing that absurd confidence, Tzeentch fell silent again. When it spoke next, there was a hint of genuine frustration in its voice.
"Why? Why persist so stubbornly? You know perfectly well that by working with me, you would gain far more. That tyrant only ever intends to use you as a tool."
"Because no matter what else he is, the tyrant is still human."
"I will never work with a daemon. Because I'm human."
Bruce lifted his head high, as though he had already made peace with death. Even with a gun at his head, his answer would not change.
"You don't even belong to this world!"
"Exactly because I know how awful this world is, I know who I should work with." Bruce's voice was utterly resolute. "Even if I die, I won't cooperate with you, Chaos daemon!"
"In that case…"
Tzeentch manipulated its puppet corpse. The restraints on Bruce vanished, and in Savrok's hand there appeared a twisted staff formed from Chaos flame.
"Then I will kill you inside your own mindscape!"
If you cannot be used, then this variable must be erased.
The moment Bruce regained control of his body, he immediately tore off his lightning claws.
Then he yanked out something concealed at the back of his armor—a device shaped rather suspiciously like a hair dryer.
It was called the Evolution-Devolution Ray Gun, something Bruce had shamelessly wrung out of Doraemon in advance.
Pew!
The beam struck Savrok cleanly, right while Tzeentch was still busy striking a dramatic pose.
"Hahahaha! You think a toy like that can affect m— huh? W-wait! No—something's wrong!!!"
The laughter turned into a scream.
Something had happened to Tzeentch's body back in its own sacred domain.
"AAAAAAAHHHHH—!"
The illusion itself began to collapse. Tzeentch's scream became sharper, thinner, almost ridiculous.
Bruce, who had been bracing for death, just stood there dumbfounded.
So…
what the hell just happened?
Before he could figure it out, an intense burst of light erupted from Savrok's corpse.
The bird-shape made of fire dissolved into blue water, which surged over Bruce in an instant.
He was submerged.
"Gglblblbl—!"
What the hell was this, Tzeentch's flood attack?!
As Bruce's consciousness started to slip away, he heard Tzeentch's altered, distorted voice shriek one last promise:
"BRUCE!"
"I WON'T LET THIS GO!"
And together with it came three other strange, mocking laughs from somewhere deep within the Warp.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 175)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 126)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter105)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter100)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter134)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 70
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 87
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 79
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 64
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 73
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 45
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 49
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 45
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 45
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 31
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 27
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 26
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