It made no sense to leave it out…
Robin looked around himself. It wasn't dark, yet it wasn't bright. It was shadowy, yet as clear and white as you could imagine. He didn't know where or when he was… he only hoped he knew who he was…
"Who are you?"
"I am Robin…" says Robin, looking around. "Who are you and where am I?"
"You are here… I am me…"
"Listen, whoever you are; I don't like playing games. If you want trouble…"
"Who are you to start fighting?"
"Where are you?"
"Who are you to decide what happens here of all places?" and the shadowy figure appears before him; his dark brown cloak and hood covering his features. Only a dark slit for his eyes remained opened. Golden shapes were adorned on his clothes. "What do you see?"
"A wise guy in a really whacked up room!" says Robin, getting ready to fight just in case he turned to be hostile. "Just let me out of here and I won't have to resort to violence."
"How predictable." says the figure and he moves, or at least he is somewhere else, when Robin watches.
"Hey!" he says a little startled, the guy didn't even seem to move, he just… teleported somehow. "I'm talking to…" but before he can finish, HE somehow moves right up and in front of the spectre.
"I am Shekron Kaizer." says the man, looking straight forward as if he cannot see Robin.
"Why am I here?" says Robin, trying to keep his cool, but he somehow ends up far away from the person again. The room continues to show no walls, or doors or any visible floor that he was somehow walking on.
"To entertain."
"A coliseum?"
"Not quite, yet some points are similar." says the man, moving again.
"Just give me a straight answer!" says Robin, getting angry. "I'm warning you!"
"I know…"
Robin rushes forward yet he doesn't rush forward. To his perplexity, he watches himself run off into darkness. He stands transfixed…
"How… what…?" says Robin.
"This realm is a realm of fiction… fanfiction as they call it… A realm of pure fantasy…"
"Fiction? Who are they?"
"The writers… many, many writers." says the man, and the scenery changes to woodland. "All you see is pure fantasy, imagination and…"
"An illusion?" says Robin, getting the drift.
"… Your grim reality…" says the man emotionless.
"That's it!" says Robin, appearing before the phantom, and he lathers up a great punch. Shekron merely kicks him several feet away. Robin rubs his sore chin and gets up before his adversary again.
"How can you fight when you are not there?"
"…" Robin says, and to his horror, he is no longer there. He cannot move his vision, see or feel his body any longer. What was this? "What do you mean?" he says and he suddenly re-appears.
"Do you think in a realm of fiction that we exist?" and the man sits on a rock in the desert lands. Robin takes a seat.
"Are you an illusion?"
"I am what you are… a character."
"What do you mean character? As in a storybook hero?"
"Not quite… I am a villain."
"Are you going to fight me?"
"That is up to the writer to decide." says Shekron, walking through the snow.
"Who is… are these writers?"
"The writer of this story uses a pen name to hide his real name." says Shekron on top of the sky-scraper. "He created us and he also created everything else in this realm. It is his imagination that spawned you."
"I don't believe you." says Robin, using his grapple hook to get up. "You talk as though I'm some sort of bred animal."
"In a way, we are." says Shekron. "We are created when ever and as quickly as thoughts, for we are thoughts…"
"Who is this writer?" says Robin, giving up in trying to argue. "What is his real name?"
"I cannot reveal that. He has forbidden such a revelation. All I can say is that his pen name is Shekron Kaizer."
"So… are you the writer?"
"I am his pen name. I am merely another character of his creation that he thought the name was suitable for his cover. I am here, I am there and I am, as you are, now immortal."
"Immortal? How?"
"You do not yet realise it. The author has made it so to bring effect on this story. But you will know in time. Though it may overwhelm you."
"Try me." says Robin. "I think I can handle it. I've been through many tough spots before. What makes this one any different?"
"What if I told you that you do not know who you are?"
"Then I would say I'm Robin."
"What is your REAL name?"
"Then I would say I'm Robin."
"Then 'think' what your real name is!"
Robin thinks this is stupid. What was this Looney on about? Why should he tell him… what… his… real… name? He didn't know!
"Wh… what?" struggles Robin, but he can't remember who he is behind the mask. "What have you done to me?"
"The writer did not personally create your character. You were created by another being long before this writer was born. This writer only knows you are Robin; whoever you are behind the mask is purely speculation. You are un-decided."
"I'm… a character?" says Robin, still fighting against what he was hearing. "But I…"
"You think therefore you are? No. You cannot think. You only thought so." says Shekron and they begin to fight in a castle. Robin dodges the man's quick swings of his bladed wrists and begins to counter it with swings of his pole.
"This has gone far enough!" yells Robin.
"Predictable." says Shekron, and he raises his hand, blasting Robin back in sonic energy. "Only the writer can give you the answers."
"If I'm a character, make-believe, then why am I here? Why am I questioning the 'author'?" says Robin, but inside he is starting to break. He still doesn't know who he is, let alone what has happened to him all his life; his adventures that he knew he had, but somehow he had forgotten all.
I almost regret doing this, but maybe withholding the truth this far may be far worse than leaving him ignorant…
"You want to know what happened to you? All of it?" says Shekron sceptically.
"YES!" shouts Robin, wanting to gain back himself. He soon regrets it. His form cringes and contorts before dropping down in rage, fear, love, weakness, hate, spite, happiness and death. But he is not dead. "I… I…"
"You see." says Shekron upon the pinnacle of the giant marble column. "Your character is undefined. You are sometimes Dick Grayson. You are sometimes Tim Drake. You are sometimes Jason Todd as well as a myriad of others. Do you see your truth?"
"I… don't want to!" struggles Robin, but he is unsure who he is, which one he is, if he is dead, alive, old, young or even whether his appearance was the same.
"You have no defined image." says Shekron. "I am fortunate only to have one writer. My image will remain simple. You have had many hundreds. You are torn between the writers like a dish towel."
"Who am I?" says Robin. He doesn't know who his friends are, who his family is, yet he does know it. Yet he seemed to be split up into millions of alternate lives. The many alternate stories he had been contrived in.
"They are a strange lot the writers." says Shekron. "They find it pleasurable and enjoyable to put us in the direst of situation, or the most ridiculous. Taking control over us and our actions to suite their whim. Even now I only say what the writer wants, as do you suffer under his hands."
"Make it stop!" whinges Robin. He is torn emotionally. He doesn't even know if he exists anymore.
"Many stories have been contrived. Some with you being killed, going old or even being lost in a black hole. You are sometimes in love with Starfire, Raven, Oracle as well as many others, sometimes having children. It is typical of the authors that sometimes you even like men. Other times you may even kill your most beloved ones… or yourself."
"Why do they do this?"
"Because life in the real world is too boring for them. They escape here from the worries for a bit of… creativity, for their own designs, The writer of this story is actually writing it to make an interesting story for Fanfiction, the site where he posts us."
"Can this end?" says Robin, trying to think for himself, but I know that it is impossible. But I try to make him say, what I think he would have said if he was real. "What will happen to me?"
"You will be immortal here; just as you are immortal in any other story, even if you die the story can be re-read. It is not all that bad…"
"I don't want to be here!" shouts Robin to the empty void. Shekron has vanished. He cries out and cries out and cries out like an empty voice where no one can hear him… "WHY?
WHERE AM I GOING?
WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME?
WHY IS IT GOING TO BE ME?
DO YOU EVEN CARE?
I WANT MY FRIENDS!
MY FAMILY!
I WANT TO BE REAL!
DOES ANYONE OUT THERE UNDERSTAND ME?
I WANT TO MAKE MY OWN CHOICES!
I WANT TO GIVE MY OWN ANSWERS!
I WANT THINGS TO BE HOW THEY ARE MEANT TO BE!
CAN YOU HEAR ME SHOUT?
AM I SAYING WHAT I AM SAYING?
IS THIS ALL SOME SORT OF GAME?
ENTERTAINMENT?
IS THAT ALL MY LIFE, MY PAIN, MY FRIENDS, MY ENEMIES, MY TROUBLES, MY JOYS, MY HORRORS MY DEATHS; ARE THEY JUST FOR YOU TO READ?
DOES ANYONE CARE?
ARE YOU AMUSED?
IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE?
REALITY!
I THINK DON'T I?
I AM, AREN'T I?
I EXIST, I AM, I AM HERE!
Robin fades in the light. He lies down faint and exhausted mentally and physically. "Is this for real…?"
…
…
…
"Friend Robin! You awaken!" shouts Starfire overjoyed, and she hugs him as Cyborg raises him up. His head is covered with a whole network of plugs on a helmet. He sees Raven and Beastboy escorting Mad Mod out of the tower.
"Where am I?" says Robin.
"In bed with a whole system of illusions strapped on Rob!" says Cyborg. Robin is pleased to get a straightforward answer… as well as a name.
"Who am I…?" he breathes out.
"I am concerned." says Starfire. "Maybe Robin has not fully recovered from his hallucination?" she starts prodding his head.
"Hey! Starfire!" says Robin, though happily. "So…" he says wearily. "Did you guys also meet Shekron Kaizer?"
"Chevron Caesar? Who?" says Cyborg confused. "We all had different hallucinations Rob!"
"I dreamed of pink rabbits." smiles Starfire.
"Whatever you saw, it's over now." says Cyborg, packing away the device. "I guess we were lucky that we could break out."
"Did I?" says Robin.
"Yours was the strange case!" says Cyborg. "When we got out of the warp, you were still plugged in, but the machine was off. Strange huh!"
"Yeah… fictional…" sighs Robin.
Starfire pats him on the back. "Do not worry Robin. It is over now. I will get pizza."
Robin smiles as Starfire goes out. Whatever went into his mind about his alternate selves seemed to disappear from memory. He was Robin, a Teen Titan. These were his friends. At least in this story…
"I'll leave you up here. I'm going to get to that pizza first!" says Cyborg and he runs out.
Things seemed back to normal. Robin thought upon his bed. Robin didn't know if his dream really had been a dream or if this reality was even real. But he was glad for one thing…
"Did you want Hawaiian or supreme?" says Starfire, popping in.
"Err. Supreme." says Robin. "Can I ask you something Star?"
"Certainly friend." says Starfire.
"Is everything that we do for real? Are our friendships real? Is our life real? Am I real?"
Starfire looks at him puzzled and concerned. She flies over and kisses him on the forehead. "I do not think I quite know what you are trying to communicate, nor what you have eyes seen in the warp. But this I think I can answer. I hope you are." she smiles and goes down to get the pizza.
Robin sighs as he lies back on his bed. He hoped so too…
"I thought so…"