Saiyan of Gotham

The Kansas sky was a tapestry of indigo and gold as dusk fell over the Wayne family's farm. The fields shimmered with the last light of day, and the air was thick with the scent of earth and distant rain. For Bruce and Ojaga Wayne, this evening was meant to be just another adventure—one more exploration before the world called them back to Gotham. But fate had other plans.

Bruce, five and a half, was restless. He tugged at Ojaga's sleeve, eyes bright with curiosity. "Let's go to the old woods," he whispered. "I heard there's a cave near the river. Maybe we'll find treasure."

Ojaga, older by less than a year, grinned. "Alright. But we have to be back before dark."

They slipped away from the farmhouse, their footsteps muffled by the tall grass. The world around them was alive with the sounds of crickets and the distant call of an owl. The river, swollen from recent rains, glimmered in the fading light.

They followed a narrow deer path, Bruce leading with the reckless confidence of youth, Ojaga moving with the quiet grace that came from training and something more. As they neared the riverbank, Bruce stopped, pointing to a cluster of rocks half-hidden by brambles.

"There," he said, excitement in his voice. "I bet that's the cave."

Ojaga nodded, sensing something strange—a pulse of energy, ancient and powerful, thrumming beneath the earth. He pushed aside the branches, revealing a narrow opening just big enough for a child to squeeze through.

Inside, the air was cool and damp, the darkness absolute. Ojaga led the way, his senses guiding him deeper into the earth. Bruce followed, his hand never leaving his brother's shoulder.

The tunnel twisted and turned, the walls slick with moisture. After what felt like hours, they emerged into a vast chamber, its ceiling lost in shadow. At the far end, a set of stone doors stood closed, carved with symbols neither boy recognized.

Ojaga stepped forward, tracing the glyphs with his fingers. As he touched the center symbol—a lightning bolt—the doors shuddered and swung open, revealing a staircase that spiraled down into the unknown.

The brothers exchanged a look. Bruce grinned. "Adventure?"

Ojaga nodded. "Adventure."

They descended, each step echoing in the silence. At the bottom, they found themselves in a cavern lit by flickering torches. Seven archways stood before them, each guarded by a statue—a monstrous figure representing one of the seven deadly desires: Pride, Envy, Greed, Wrath, Sloth, Gluttony, and Lust.

A voice, deep and ancient, echoed through the chamber. "To claim the power of the champion, you must pass the seven hurdles of desire. Only one with a pure heart may succeed."

Bruce swallowed, his bravado wavering. Ojaga squeezed his hand. "We can do this. Together."

The first archway, Pride, loomed before them. As they stepped through, illusions swirled around Bruce—visions of himself as Gotham's greatest hero, beloved and worshipped. The temptation to accept this false glory was strong, but Bruce shook his head. "I don't want to be worshipped. I just want to help people."

The illusion shattered, and the brothers moved on.

The second arch, Envy, filled the air with whispers. Bruce saw Ojaga's strength, his confidence, and felt a pang of jealousy. But Ojaga turned to him, eyes gentle. "You're strong in your own way, Bruce. I wouldn't trade places with anyone."

Bruce smiled, the envy fading. The path cleared.

Greed was next, the chamber filled with gold and jewels. Bruce reached out, but Ojaga stopped him. "We don't need this. We have enough."

The gold vanished, and the brothers pressed on.

Wrath came as a storm—shouting voices, memories of pain and injustice. Bruce felt anger rising, but Ojaga placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let it go. Anger won't help us."

The storm passed.

Sloth tempted them with soft beds and endless sleep. Bruce yawned, eyelids heavy, but Ojaga shook him awake. "We can rest later. We have to keep moving."

Gluttony offered a feast, the air thick with the smell of roasting meat and fresh bread. Bruce's stomach growled, but he remembered Alfred's lessons. "Too much of anything is bad. We should share with others."

The food vanished.

The final arch, Lust, was the hardest to understand. For children, it manifested as the desire for attention, for love, for validation. Bruce saw visions of his parents, alive and smiling, promising to never leave. Tears filled his eyes, but he shook his head. "I have to let go. I have to be strong."

Ojaga hugged him, and the illusion faded.

At last, they stood before a great throne. Upon it sat an old man, his beard white as snow, his eyes crackling with lightning.

"You have passed the seven hurdles," the sage intoned. "Bruce Wayne, your heart is pure. You have shown humility, compassion, restraint, peace, diligence, moderation, and courage. Will you accept the power of the champion?"

Bruce hesitated, then nodded. "If it means I can help people. If it means I can protect my family."

The sage smiled. "Then speak my name, and claim your destiny."

Bruce looked to Ojaga, who nodded encouragement. Bruce drew a deep breath and spoke the word that thundered in his soul:

"SHAZAM!"

A bolt of lightning split the chamber, striking Bruce and lifting him off his feet. Power surged through his body—strength, speed, wisdom, courage, and the knowledge of ages. When the light faded, Bruce stood transformed, taller, stronger, his eyes alight with the power of thunder.

Ojaga stared in awe, then whooped with joy, rushing forward to hug his brother. He lifted Bruce off the ground, spinning him in a circle. "You did it! You really did it!"

Bruce laughed, the sound echoing through the cavern. "I feel… amazing!"

The sage nodded. "Remember, power is a gift, not a right. Use it well, champion."

The brothers thanked the sage, then retraced their steps, the path now clear. As they emerged into the night, the storm clouds parted, and the stars shone brighter than ever.

Back at the farmhouse, the world was unchanged—but Bruce Wayne was not. He had faced his deepest desires and emerged stronger, not just in body, but in spirit.

Ojaga grinned, still holding his brother tight. "You're a real hero now, Bruce."

Bruce smiled, his heart light. "So are you, Oja. So are you."

And somewhere, far above, the thunder rolled, bearing witness to the birth of a new legen