A/N: I was meant to start writing and posting these back in January, however life happened, and progress didn't happen, so now here I am, a little over two months late but finally kicking things off! This coming July, as I've done for the past two summers, I'll be leading a 100-day countdown story set across the Arrowverse (featuring Supergirl, The Flash, Legends of Tomorrow, and Arrow). I decided to do things a little differently this year. For one thing, the entire 100 days will be a single story spread over 100 days, one chapter to every day. And for another, the more planning I did, I saw the possibility and the need to lay in some ground work in the form of preludes.

Twenty-four prelude one-shot stories, six each to the four series (again, it was meant so that each month from January to June would have one of each show, but now… yeah ;)), posted every 5 (or 6) days. Today I will be posting both the one meant for today, and the one that should have gone up on March 5th.

The story this will all be leading to, Once More Unto the Breach, is an alternate universe story (not another Earth, ha :D), which will soon become evident enough. It's very possible you do not watch all four of the shows, but I highly encourage you to seek out the other preludes, as they will help to fill in this world I'm very excited to share with you guys!

Alright, enough chit chat, let's go! If you have any questions, send them my way and I'll be happy to answer them!


A COMMON CAUSE
Prelude to ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH
(2 of 24)

Location:
MAIN EARTH, THE CITY BENEATH THE BREACH
(ARGUS designation)

He'd been told not to look for her. They were aware of her presence in the city, had been since airport facial recognition had flagged her arrival. He had never dealt with this woman himself, but the way the others spoke about her, she had emerged like something out of a legend for him. How many times had he been warned that his curiosity would get him killed someday? Well, he wouldn't have made it to where he was now if he hadn't pushed back on the boundaries just a bit, would he? And there was a challenge to it, too, wasn't there? Could he track her down, observe her, without being seen?

So off he went, suited up and armed. Much as he could say he would have blended in more as himself, there were times where protecting one's identity was just as important to…

"Good evening, Mr. Ramon."

He stalled, still as a statue. What were his options here? Better yet, what were his odds? Could he take her? Was he confident enough to think he had a chance against the likes of her? She already knew his name, when she wasn't supposed to, which he took to mean she had already done her homework on the Green Arrow's team, himself included. His best course of action, for now, would be to face her, no fear, no doubt. Stand tall. So he turned, and there she was. The pictures did not do her justice, and it was an exercise in restraint for him to keep his face as set as he'd made it a second before.

"My name is Arsenal," he announced.

"Your name is Francisco Ramon. May I call you Cisco?" she asked, her voice like honey, though he suspected it hid the sting of bees ready to strike. He opened his mouth to once again present himself as Arsenal, but she waved her hand as though to say 'very well, have it your way.' "Were you looking for me?" she asked, her stance telling him or anyone who would dare come for her that she was ready for them. She was shorter than he would have expected, but then he would have expected a giant… and either way, he doubted it would make much of a difference.

"I…" he started to say, before realizing he did not know what to call her. Her passport identified her as Cynthia Reynolds, though he had no reason to think this was her actual name. "I meant no disrespect."

"Surely not," she tipped her head, never breaking eye contact.

"I've heard about you, that's all."

"Have you? And what was it that you heard?" she asked, apparently intrigued.

What had he heard? Well, maybe not as much as he would have liked, if only to know exactly what he had put himself in the crosshairs for. He knew that she had been born and raised within the ranks of the League of Assassins, and that in itself warranted a steady amount of caution. He couldn't chase away this notion he'd gotten in his head. There were plenty of the League's members who would have come to join well into adulthood. This one had been part of it her entire life. It would be as much a part of her as walking and talking. Walking, talking… killing. And all under the watchful eye of her father, there at the head of the entire League.

That was as little as he knew about her, about her history. The rest he knew through his team's previously having come into contact with her. As far as he could tell, the first time she'd come to the city had been a couple years back and had caught the Green Arrow's attention following a tangle with ARGUS. He had never found out what that had all been about, but it had been enough that any return of 'Cynthia' within their midst was to be tracked. All he'd been able to learn back then had been the very little he knew of her background, her association with the League of Assassins.

She'd been back, a few times since, even if he himself had never crossed her before. Even so, he'd taken all those other stories, and together they'd formed a picture, at least to him, one he'd been so intrigued to prove genuine that here he was, on this night, under the assumption that he might have been able to sneak up on the likes of her. Maybe he hadn't done that, but he had questions, and he would ask them, before he tried to answer hers.

"Why did you come here? The first time?" he asked. She stared at him for a moment, maybe deciding to answer him… maybe choosing how best to dispose of him.

"A contract," she finally stated.

"You came here to kill someone," he translated. The smile she gave him had the power to render him small and weak, though he showed nothing.

"Because that would be all I am good for, is that so?" she asked him, and he knew better than to reply. Instead, he let her carry on. "I came across someone, a young woman, who sought safe passage to this place and… beyond," she added, her eyes seeming to crack him open to look and search, to find out whether he would understand what she meant. He didn't, and she took this with a shrug before carrying on. "She needed protection, and I could provide that for her, so I offered my services. It served my own interests, to come and see this city for myself."

"Why's that?" he asked. She was indulging him, he knew. She could have disappeared at any moment, could have killed him just as quick.

"One hears such tales of this place. Heroes, with abilities beyond human understanding, even… aliens. But you are neither of these things, are you, Francisco?" He couldn't help but bristle, having her use his name like a weapon, prodding him as though to say 'I know who you are. I have the power.' "You and I, only human," she went on, as though this would level the playing field.

Only human… Was that all he was? Oh, plenty of them out there would think this of him… his older brother especially. It was almost laughable to think it now. In a way, it was because of his brother that he was even standing here on this night.

They'd been dancing this dance, him and Dante, for as long as he could remember really. His brother's talents were many and not so far in between. But the one Cisco had dealt with the most was his ability to make his little brother feel just that… little. He had dealt with it all this time, trying to heed his mother's words, to just ignore it and carry on, that it was only Dante's way of showing affection, of wanting Cisco to excel, just as she did. She would say that, wouldn't she? She couldn't see Dante's words for what they did to him. He wouldn't hold it against her, but still…

After a while, he'd just stopped being able to 'ignore it and carry on.' He tried to tell himself that he was only doing this for himself, to prove to himself that he was able to be so much more, but he knew very well that the person he was really trying to show up was Dante.

It started with training. He told himself it would help clear his head, give him some drive, make him feel stronger. It was an outlet like any other, but in time it started to pay off. He learned, and he grew, and he excelled, though he was warned he could get just a bit reckless at times, which, standing face to face with an assassin, he would be made to recall. Even the Arrow had told him as much, when he'd met her. He would never forget the first time he'd seen her in action… because she'd saved his life.

He'd been walking home from the gym one night, when he'd come across two guys preying on a girl, looking as though they meant to hurt her. Thinking, even though he would have done it either way, he'd been training enough already that he could have taken them on, he'd rushed toward them, telling the pair of them to leave the girl alone. Well, they'd done that. They'd left her alone, turning on him instead. He was asking for it, wasn't he? Well they would comply, and he could say at least that they were the ones to start the fight, even if it wouldn't matter for very long. They'd gotten the upper hand on him before he could really make much of a showing of his 'training.'

By the time she'd come, he was just a little out of it, his head spinning, his body screaming with hurt, so much so that he initially took her for a mirage as she dispatched his attackers and sent them packing. It was only then that she'd stopped and turned to look at him, huddled there on the ground. She held out her hand to help him up, and surely he knew enough to realize that mirages were not real, but the strong hand that pulled him to his feet was very real, so then she had to be, too. She wore a hood, a mask over her eyes, and even her voice, when she spoke to him, sounded as though it had been manipulated, the better to keep her identity a secret. She asked him if he was alright, and he barely remembered telling her that he was, because after that he'd passed out.

The next thing he knew, he was getting patched up in the emergency room, his mother hovering over a nurse with the patience of a saint, while his brother paced about not too far away. All Cisco could do was watch him, knowing already what Dante would say once he actually spoke to him. It would be condescending, it would make him feel small all over again. And Cisco… actually didn't care. There was a girl out there in the city tonight who could have had the worse of it, and she hadn't, and that was all that mattered.

That night had changed him though. Something about that masked woman had made him more determined than ever to make something of himself… and he was starting to know just what that something would be. He would do what she did. He would help people.

He would train harder, he would learn from experience. And he did. The next time he'd intervened in some situation… Well, he'd still gotten knocked around pretty good, but he had stayed conscious that time, did his own patching up, so that was progress, wasn't it?

His masked savior hadn't exactly thought so. He'd learned she'd been keeping an eye on him, and when she'd approached him the second time, that was when she'd said it, that he was reckless. He didn't mind. This was what he was supposed to be doing. It had taken a few more incidents for him to really his point across, he learned, because that was when the Green Arrow had come to him with a deal.

"Fight me," she'd said, and it had taken him a few seconds to realize she was serious. She nodded, telling him to go on and do it, and he understood. She wanted to see what he could do. So, with no shortage of apprehension, he'd done as he was told. He'd been on the ground in less than ten seconds, but he got up again. She didn't go easy on him, and it showed him even more of what she could do, inspired him even more, too. He wasn't sure what the goal of the exercise was, though he knew one outcome would be that he'd feel it for a solid week when it was over. Maybe she wanted to see how long he'd keep going before he either gave up or passed out.

When it did stop – no passing out – she had clearly learned everything she needed to know. She was going to help him, to get better, and in return she would call him every so often, if she needed assistance. The deal was more than satisfactory to him, and he'd taken it.

It would be some time longer before he proved himself enough that she showed him the face underneath the mask, by which point he'd met the rest of her team. It wasn't as though he'd known who she was without the cover, but now he knew who she really was, which could have been dangerous in the hands of someone she didn't trust… and she trusted him.

That was when he had really become Arsenal, and he hadn't looked back since. His family knew no part of it, and that was how he intended to keep it. He could have told Dante, rubbed it in his face that he wasn't the guy his brother saw, but he thought better of it. For all their issues, the last thing he wanted was to get his brother killed.

But now here he was, tonight, face to face with a daughter of the League of Assassins who knew his name. He had to trust the things he'd learned of her, the conclusions he'd reach, to tell him that she had no reason to come after him, or his family, but he couldn't just assume he had it right either. Would telling her what he believed her end up triggering a shift in her response to him?

"You came here, to help that girl get where she needed to be. But you've been back since then. You've helped others like me, to protect the people of this city."

"I act as I am compelled to act," she told him, and he nodded.

"So do I. That's why I came looking for you tonight. I saw you were in town, and I just… wanted to see you, I guess." She sort of looked amused now, and he tried not to think she saw him like some… enthralled weakling. "How is it that you know my name?" Again, that smirk, like he'd said something funny. "We're on the same side, aren't we?" he asked, then after a beat, "Whatever keeps bringing you here, to help people, I mean, not… the rest."

"And which side am I on when it's 'the rest,' as you say?" she asked. He wouldn't know how to answer. "But I suppose you're right. As for your name, I once heard of one Francisco Ramon, who had gotten it into his head to be a hero. I gave counsel… Evidently it was followed," she bowed her head, and he stood dazed for a beat. Had she been the one to convince her to give him a shot? She didn't even know him, but then maybe it didn't even matter. In the end, whatever she'd said had gotten him to where he was today.

"If you're here now, then… something's happening, isn't it?" She shrugged her shoulders, and he could almost hear her say 'maybe,' which would be to say 'yes.' "Can I help?" She took a step forward, and another, observing him. He didn't dare make a move. He was not so far gone as to ignore the possibility she might do something; he was sure she knew he was thinking it, too.

"I suppose you might. I'm almost curious to see how you'll fare now."

"Always happy to take pointers," he nodded, immediately wondering what had made him say that.

"I'm sure you are," she turned to walk off, and Cisco hoped she hadn't heard him breathe out. He had been the one to seek her out that night, and now she was so far into his head, he didn't know how he'd ended up here so fast. "Are you coming?"

"Yes," he moved to fall into step with her. "I… What do I call you? I'm not exactly clear on that... Your passport says Cynthia..."

"That will do," she told him, and he didn't question it. Cynthia it was.

He'd wanted to see her, when he'd gone looking for her. Really, he knew what he wanted was to see her in action. Cisco had always understood the value of getting to learn from people who could help him grow, the best that there was, and if he was lucky enough for that to happen… Yes, the whole assassin thing did put something like a snag in the whole situation, but for the time being, he wasn't going to let himself lose track. Whoever she was, today she was an ally, today she was a teacher, today she was here to help. Some other day, he could argue out if her being born into the League made her someone he couldn't associate himself with… He more or less knew the answer to that question already.

"And it's Arsenal… when we're out here," he ended up saying. She looked at him. "But yes, my name is Cisco."

"Pleasure to meet you… Arsenal," she smiled.

THE END


Check out the next prelude, coming March 15th!