Bruce Wayne made his way to the family airship.

He was an entirely new person from the angry, vengeful boy that had ran away from Vale seven years ago. He was excited. Filled with ideas, goals, and anticipation to accomplish those goals.

Alfred Pennyworth stepped out from the airship, and smiled as he saw Bruce, who was shocked as he saw him. He hadn't aged a day.

"Master Wayne," he said. "You've been gone for a long time."

Bruce nodded, smiling up at his old companion. "Yes, I have."

"You look very fashionable," Alfred said. "Apart from the mud."

Bruce laughed, looking down at the clothes on his body. They were the same as the ones he had escaped the burning lair of the League of Shadows in, and were just as dirty as before. But he was used to that at this point.

In a few hours, they were flying over the skies, and Bruce was looking around the plane in a strange awe. It had been so long since he had been within the riches of his home, and it was amazing to see after seven years of getting used to the world of a criminal.

"Are you coming back to Vale for long, sir?" Alfred asked.

"As long as it takes," Bruce replied. "I want to show the people their city doesn't belong to the criminals and the corrupt."

"In the depression, your father nearly bankrupted Wayne Enterprises combating poverty. He believed his example could inspire the wealthy of Gotham to save their city."

"Did it?" Bruce asked.

"In a way," Alfred shrugged. "Their murder shocked the wealthy and the powerful into action."

Bruce sighed. "People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy. I can't do that as Bruce Wayne. As a man . . . I'm flesh and blood, I can be ignored, destroyed. But as a symbol . . . as a symbol, I can be incorruptible. I can be everlasting."

"What symbol?" Alfred asked.

"Something elemental," Bruce replied, honestly unsure of what kind of symbol he wanted to be. "Something terrifying."

"I assume that as you take on the underworld, this symbol is a persona to protect those you care about from reprisals?"

"You're thinking about Weiss?" Bruce asked.

Now that he thought of her, he realized how excited he was to see her again. How much had she grown since the last time he'd seen her? Could he convince her that he'd changed? Could their relationship become something more?

"Actually, sir, I was thinking of myself," Alfred said.

Bruce nodded in understanding. "Have you told anyone I'm coming back?"

"I couldn't figure the legal ramifications of bringing you back from the dead."

"'Dead'?"

"You've been gone seven years."

"You had me declared dead?"

"Actually, it was Mr. Earle. He's taking the company public. He wanted to liquidate your majority shareholding. Those shares are worth quite a bit of money."

Bruce nodded. "Well, it's a good thing I left everything to you, then."

"Quite so, sir," Alfred said. He yawned, leaning back against his chair. "And you can borrow the Rolls, if you like. Just bring it back with a full tank."

Bruce chuckled. He had missed Alfred.

It was good to see him again . . .