The dummies came to life, moving with fluid grace. They attacked from multiple angles simultaneously, a coordinated assault that would overwhelm most fighters instantly.
Bruce moved through them like water flowing around rocks.
Thwack!
His fist caught the first dummy in the chest, precise strike to the solar plexus. It staggered back.
Crack!
A spinning kick took the second dummy's legs out. It crashed to the mat.
The third and fourth attacked together. Bruce ducked under a punch, redirected a kick with minimal effort, and countered with a palm strike that sent the third dummy flying. The fourth received an elbow to the midsection that would have shattered ribs on a human opponent.
The fifth dummy tried a grapple. Bruce broke the hold, twisted, and executed a perfect judo throw that slammed it into the ground.
Boom!
Total elapsed time: 4.3 seconds.
"Combat efficiency: 98.7%," NEXUS analyzed. "No wasted movement detected. Reaction time averaged 0.08 seconds across all exchanges. You are operating at theoretical peak human combat capability."
Bruce looked at the five dummies scattered across the mat. He'd destroyed them faster than they could coordinate. His body moved exactly as his mind commanded, with zero delay between thought and action.
'This is what nine years of training gets you,' he thought. 'This is what peak human actually means.'
He spent the next two hours testing every physical parameter. Vertical jump: 48 inches. Flexibility: beyond Olympic gymnast levels. Grip strength: 305 PSI, enough to dent steel. Healing rate: minor injuries disappearing in hours instead of days.
By the time he finished, Bruce had a complete understanding of his new capabilities. He was peak human in every measurable category. No natural-born person could match him without external enhancement.
But he also understood the limits. He was still human. Bullets would kill him. Falls from tall buildings would break him. He was incredibly capable, but not invincible.
'Which is why I need to be smart,' Bruce thought. 'Peak human body combined with genius-level intellect and 700+ martial arts mastery. That's the combination that makes me dangerous. Not just the physical capabilities.'
He exited the pocket dimension and returned to real-time. It was late afternoon on a Sunday. School started again tomorrow after the weekend. Senior year was winding down toward graduation.
Time to rejoin normal life and see how his enhanced body handled social situations.
---
Monday morning arrived with typical Gotham gloom. Bruce drove himself to Gotham Academy in one of the family's more modest cars, a Tesla that didn't scream "billionaire's son" quite as loudly as the Rolls-Royce.
He pulled into the student parking lot and immediately noticed the stares. Nothing unusual there. Bruce Wayne always attracted attention. But today felt different. More intense somehow.
He grabbed his bag and headed toward the building. Students parted around him unconsciously, responding to some subtle shift in his presence that they couldn't consciously identify.
Peak human capability wasn't just about strength and speed. It was about perfect posture, optimal movement efficiency, and a kind of physical confidence that normal people responded to instinctively.
"Bruce!"
He turned to see Selina jogging up to him. She was dressed in her usual style: dark jeans, leather jacket, band t-shirt. Her green eyes studied him curiously.
"Hey," Bruce said with an easy smile. "Good weekend?"
"Boring. Gotham is Gotham." She fell into step beside him. "You look different."
"Different how?"
"I don't know. Taller maybe? No, that's not it. You're just... I can't put my finger on it. Did you work out a lot this weekend or something?"
"Just the usual training routine." Bruce held the door open for her. "New haircut maybe? Changed my shampoo?"
"Don't be a smartass." Selina punched his arm playfully, then paused. "Okay, seriously, what's different? Your arm feels like it's made of steel."
"Clean living and good genetics," Bruce said with a grin. "What can I say?"
They walked through the hallways together. Bruce noticed Selina kept glancing at him sideways, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Good. A little mystery kept things interesting.
"So," Bruce said as they reached his locker. "You ever think about what you'll do after graduation? We've got what, two months left?"
"Trying not to think about it. Real world is scary."
"Come on, you're Selina Kyle. You're not scared of anything."
She laughed. "That's what you think. I'm terrified of ending up stuck in Gotham forever, working some dead-end job, becoming another statistic."
"That's not going to happen to you."
"How do you know?"
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