Authors note: It takes place sometime right after the episode Prophecy ended. One shot. Reviews are appreciated.

Raven walked aimlessly, around a corner, up flights of stairs, side winding bends. She was numb. Blank minded. Her brain recognized the path-walked day in and day out, sometimes she would just phase through floors, or even simply teleport herself there-but her mind did not. She was...scarred. Azar, she could have gone so far today, so much farther. Farther then she has ever gone before, and what frightened her most; that part of her would enjoy it. Enjoy the feeling of the heart struggle against her telekinetic grip, the mind slowly fading, souls light dimming. Yes, she would enjoy that with much pleasure. Pleasure ruled by Rage. Rage...

NO!

Rage had to be stopped. Everyday she was growing; the telepathic cage was too small, she was strong. With each passing day, the iron bars rusted, broke. Rage would soon be in control, she almost was, at least if it wasn't for those last few words.

"But look who's afraid of you"

Yes, Raven would have killed him, but she didn't, maybe he wasn't even alive. Maybe there was hope after all. Her purity was waning, it was becoming harder and harder to fight villains; she wished to join them with great ferocity. It was even more painful when Rage amiably thought of slaughtering the Titans. She shuttered at the memory.

Robin was leaning against his door jam as Raven walked by. His eyes followed her down the hallway, making her feel discomfort.

"Scath is coming, and this gem is how he gets here. If were going to stop him, we need to find it and destroy it."

Robin had said to her face that she needed to be destroyed. She needed to die. No, he hadn't know directly said that, and No, he hadn't known that she was the portal either...but it had cut her deeply; deeper then ever before. The destruction of Azarath was painful, but this-this imagined betrayal-was far worse. Withering in emotional agony, she looked up to see bold letters on a door. RAVEN; her room. There was nothing in there that could help her, Azar, why did things have to damage her?

Azar.

Raven flung the door open and ran to a dresser. She racked the shelves, where was it? Didn't she put it one the third self-behind the book of moons-wedged in between the boards...Aha! She traced the elegant carvings, rivers of lines swirling into the souls of Azarath. The box was antique, aged with pride, yet still glossy. It gave off the feeling of mystery, subdued by the magic of Azar. Longing to feels its velvet interior and the cool metal on her fingers, Raven opened the lid expectantly. Her hopes were slaughtered; Rage's cruel laugh echoed inside.

The box was empty.


Red X gracefully leaned in and out of tight spaces, weaving his way through the nightly traffic as Arachne weaved thread through her loom. His skills were as sharp as Robins, perhaps even sharper. A simple assignment, he was not the type of thief to run errands for others, but no thief could not pass up the insane amount of cash that was slided his way. A large sum indeed; all for two rings. They seemed to be of value, but not enough to pass up the cash and keep them for himself.

"Do you have the acquired items?" a cold dark voice spoke through a two way radio attached to his ear.

Red X grinned. "As long as you have the cash Slade."