Flipping Through the Pages
Copyright© 2026 by Dragonpig
Chapter 10
Ultimate Bruce Wayne turned back toward his universe’s door, the satchel of magic beans still secured at his side. But first, BC’s universe. The collaboration had proven efficient—why not continue the pattern?
He approached the familiar glow of BC’s dimensional threshold and stepped through.
The Batcave materialized around him—sleek, technological, but distinctly different from his own. Chrome surfaces caught dim lighting. Advanced holographic displays flickered with data streams.
“Hello, Bruce,” BC’s voice echoed through the cave’s speakers.
Standing before him was another Bruce Wayne. Same height, same build, same face—but something in the posture felt different. More rigid. Perfect.
“I thought it might be better for me to send a copy of you since, from what I’m understanding, you no longer carry the Batman mantle,” BC explained.
Ultimate Bruce Wayne nodded. “That sounds reasonable.”
He pulled the satchel from his side and extended it toward the synthetic version of himself. “Just let my universe’s Alfred know these beans are from me and give them to Wayne Agricultural Enterprises.”
“I’ll be sure to give the drone the information,” BC confirmed.
The synthetic Bruce Wayne accepted the beans with mechanical precision.
Both versions of Bruce Wayne stepped back through the portal, emerging in the corridor. The drone version immediately oriented itself and headed down the hallway toward Ultimate Bruce Wayne’s universe.
“Well, let’s continue the journey,” Ultimate Bruce Wayne said, watching his duplicate disappear into the distance.
He walked along the corridor, scanning the endless doors. Then something caught his eye. A doorway that looked ... wrong. Not wrong exactly, but different. The lines were too bold, the colors too saturated. As if a cartoon door had been imposed on reality.
“This seems interesting,” he murmured.
“What is it, Mr. Wayne?” BC asked.
“I see a doorway that looks like a cartoon doorway—like animation. I’m going to step through it. This should be an interesting universe.”
Bruce approached the peculiar door and opened it.
He stepped into what appeared to be a comic book store.
The interior looked normal enough—rows of shelves lined with colorful spines, fluorescent lighting casting everything in stark clarity. The familiar smell of paper and ink filled the air. But when he turned back to look at the door, he froze.
It was still there.
“This is unusual, BC,” he said quietly.
“What is it, Mr. Wayne?”
“The doors usually vanish when I step into a universe. But this one’s still standing there.”
“Interesting phenomena—”
“Oh! A customer!”
Bruce turned. A nerdy-looking man emerged from around a corner—thick glasses, rumpled cardigan, with an enthusiastic smile. The store owner, Bruce presumed.
“How are you doing?” the man asked, approaching with enthusiasm at having a visitor.
“I’m well. And yourself?”
“Welcome to Stories Explained Bookstore!” The owner gestured broadly at his establishment.
“Interesting name for a business,” Bruce replied. “So you focus on comics?”
“We have various different stories. We basically focus on comics, but we have any kind of literature—fiction, nonfiction, whatever you need. So look around, pick whatever you want, enjoy yourself!”
The man’s friendliness seemed infectious. Genuine. Bruce couldn’t detect any ulterior motives.
“Why not?” Bruce murmured to himself.
He began walking through the aisles. The store appeared to be massive, much larger than it had seemed from the entrance. Shelves stretched upward toward a vaulted ceiling, packed with books, graphic novels, and comics of every conceivable genre. Sections branched off in multiple directions like a literary maze. Fantasy gave way to science fiction, which blended into mystery, then historical fiction, then subjects he couldn’t immediately identify.
Bruce ran his fingers along the spines as he walked, noting the eclectic mix. Some titles he recognized. Others seemed completely foreign. A few appeared to be in languages that might not exist on any Earth he’d visited.
Then something caught his eye—a logo on a comic book spine. “Marvel,” he murmured, pulling the issue from the shelf. The cover showed someone named Spider-Man climbing up the side of a building, but something was sad about the image. The web-slinger looked ... tired. Weary. His posture suggested defeat rather than the typical dynamic of a hero.
“This should be interesting,” Bruce said quietly, settling into a nearby reading chair tucked between the shelves.
He opened the comic and began to read.
Spider-Man, now in his 40s, stood on the rooftop, the night air sharp against his sweat-drenched skin under his red and blue costume. The Kingpin lay defeated at his feet, yet a twisted grin still lingered on his bruised face. “You’ll never win, Spider-Man,” the Kingpin sneered. “Lock me away, and another will take my place. Crime is eternal because people are corrupt. We have been at this for decades, and what’s changed? Nothing.” The words struck a chord deep within Spider-Man, a doubt he had long buried beginning to resurface.
The police sirens wailed in the distance as Spider-Man webbed the large villain to the roof, leaving him for the authorities. Swinging away, the city’s lights blurred into a streak of colors, but the Kingpin’s words echoed louder with each passing block. Was this endless fight against crime truly making a difference, or was he just delaying the inevitable?
Arriving at his apartment, a 20-story high-rise, the weary hero hesitated. The thought of putting on a wisecracking demeanor for his wife, Mary Jane Parker, filled him with sadness. Seeking solace in motion, he decided to climb the building’s exterior, hoping the physical exertion would clear his mind. The brickwork was familiar under his gloved fingers, but tonight, the climb felt heavier than usual, his thoughts burdened with doubt.
On the fifth floor, Spider-Man paused, drawn to a scene through a warmly lit window. A father was recounting a story to his children, their faces lit with admiration. “Spider-Man saved our city when I was your age,” the father said, his voice full of reverence. “He’s a true hero, someone who never gives up, no matter how tough things get.” The children listened in awe, their eyes wide with wonder. Spider-Man felt a small, fleeting sense of validation. Maybe, he thought, he was making a difference.
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