Disclaimer I don't own Teen Titans

The young man stood on a small hill over looking the battlefield, it was desolated and blanketed. The shells from the artillery made it look like another planet; the air was thick with dust and smoke. It was rancid with death and decay the bodies of countless men lost, trees burned, grass trampled. He breathed it in, in the distance he saw billows of black smoke rising from some missive hole, or another destroyed machine. The sky was blackened by it, it was near morning but there would be no sun, it would be blacked of by war. It was eerily quit, they were waiting, the young man smiled, they didn't have a chance.

"General Nightwing,"

At the sound of his name the man turned the light from the camp showed a tall man in a pure black body suit with blue wings emblazoned on his chest. The thin black mask hid his eyes which were now glaring at the solder. "Yes, what is it?"

"The other men and I were wondering when we were going to attack."

Nightwing made no expression but laughed inwardly, "we move in two minutes, what for my word."

With that all the solders around him were ready in seconds, he moved to his gray belt and pulled and small laser gun from one side and a long thin sword from the other. He remained standing with the small army behind him, they were very tense and nervous, no one moved. Then there was complete silence, no wind, no movement, on breath, it was the sound of death creeping over the battlefield waiting for it to begin. This was the part that Nightwing loved the most, just before battle. His heartbeat increased, his adrenal started to flow, it was what he daubed, a battle high and it was the best feeling he ever had. No it was the second best, the other was . . . Nightwing shook himself from those feelings, he had those feeling once, that didn't end well. His grip tightened on the two weapons in his hands, he knew they were getting ready too, but he wanted to wait. That's way, as he was told often, made him a great general, he judged situations well and make excellent decisions. This had always been the case, that's way he was leader again Nightwing pulled himself from the past.

'What's wrong, why do I keep thinking of them,' but before the answer could come, he felt it, they were moving.

In one movement Nightwing rased his glistening blade in the air and lowered it yelling an almighty "CHARGE," he moved much faster then the rest of the troops, but still allowed them to keep up. Then he saw the army moving like a mass of ants, unorganized, random, Nightwing glanced behind him at the orderly way his men moved, 'perfect,' he thought. An explosion brought him promptly back to the front, artillery, then the flood of solders. It looked exactly like a swarm of bees, uncoordinated, un-orderly, viscous, but most of all, huge. 'All these bugs,' thought Nightwing 'and I'm the bug spray.'

The first wave of laser fire was easy enough to dodge, 'these know nothing troops couldn't hit the bard side of a barn, let alone the bard side of this bird.' Nightwing was close enough to attack, then everything was removed from his mind. All thoughts were gone, all feelings vanished, Nightwing was in war mode. This always happened in a battle; he found that focusing on nothing enabled him to fight better. He never heard the enemies' screams of pain; the shots of the guns, the cries of the rest, meant nothing to him. The smell of death never affected him, the feel of taking a life never, moved him, the taste of blood was nothing. He knew what he was doing, he knew who was a friend and who was soon to be dead, but he never thought about it. In truth he never did, all the death, all the pain all the suffering, and all by his hands. The only time he thought about it scarred him so much he swore never to think about it again. This gave him a ruthless reputation, he never thought, he just killed, just as he was doing now.

Suddenly he stopped, then looked around, it was over, there was a cry of victory, Nightwing sighted and looked around. There were hundreds of bodies in his wake, he felt sick as he saw some of them. He looked at his sword he had killed many with it, it was now dripping with the blood of hundreds of solders. The lives that he took were sickening to him, not just looking at them, but that he killed them without so much as a thought. No mercy, no respect, no nothing, just cruelty, just evil, he shook these thoughts from his head. 'At least I don't enjoy it,' he thought to himself, but does that make it any less wrong?

"General," the voice of his solder broth him out of his thoughts "the battle is won, should we return to base?"

"Yes of course, give the order," he shook his head and turned, just in time to see a grenade bounce right in front of him. The explosion hit him hard, but he was unharmed his cyber armor protected him from attacks like this, which happen often. Nightwing dug him hand into the ground to stop himself with one hand and with the other fired at the person who threw the grenade. When Nightwing landed on his feet he saw that he had hit the person's helmet hand shot it off, Nightwing took aim before he could recover. Then Nightwing froze, the figure turned, she was a woman, her hair went fair down her back and was bright red. Then he saw her sparkling green eyes, he faltered, 'she looks just like her,' he thought, then he lowered his gun. Then gestured for the others to follow suite, they did reluctantly, then he gave the woman a hard look. Figuring this was ether extremely lucky or that she was actually dead, she turned and ran, she was out of sight in moments.

"All solders are to immediately return to camp, no questions, move!" Nightwing barked these orders and his troops followed them, he stood still. 'I haven't thought about her in so long,' he sat down thinking about it. He touched the center of his belt, it opened, he took out what was inside and looked at it. He smiled as his mind drifted back to her, he looked at what he held, a few strands of red hair. He sighed and smiled as his mind drifted to happier days, 'why did it all have to end?' he thought as he remembered a far less pleasant memory

The five Titans stood on the island staring at the now dark and now unoccupied tower, they just looked at it. Then their eyes turned to each other, anger and hurt filling each and every eye, they stood there for several moments. Then Raven pulled from her belt the familiar yellow communicator and looked at it. Then without a word, she threw it to the ground, smashing it too bitts. Then without looking at anyone turned and walked off, Beast Boy looked at his, then at the rest of the team with sorrow in his eyes. He let it slip out of his hand, then turned and walked off back hunched over. Robin looked at his for a second, then crushed it in his hand, then turn furiously away and walked off. Starfire looked at Cyborg, she heaved a great sigh, pulled out her communicator, dropped it on the ground and walked away. Cyborg looked down at the four remands of what was their team, then he too turned and walked away, none of them bothered looking back. And so it came to be that the Teen Titans, one of the best young super hero teams was destroyed. Not by some mad villain, not by some amazing criminal, or some new powerful super villain. But by an enemy that had always been there, but then never saw, a force that tore them apart. It was their greatest enemy, and they never saw it, the enemy of each other.