PLEASE READ THIS:

Hi guys, my name is Edoardo811 and I'm an Italian fanfiction writer. I wrote this cross-over for an Italian fanfiction web page, and now I decided to share this story with other community.

I'm a huge fan of Teen Titans, and I also loved so much the Infamous series on ps3, so last summer I decided to wrote this story, which talks about Rachel (Raven) on the shoes of a conduit.

I don't speak English very well, so don't kill me if you notice some wrong tenses of stuff like that. I worked very hard to translate this first chapter, only because I want let you guys read this story, which I'm very proud of, and, maybe, hear your opinion about it :)

I'm very busy on this period, but I think that I could upload the other 5 parts of the story in this summer.

I've nothing else to say, hope you enjoy.

Bye guys!

InFAMOUS: The Darkness' Daughter

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Chapter 1:

Welcome to Empire City

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Her room had never used to be so great. It was small, dark and bare. There were no closets, mirrors, nightstands, nothing that could make you understand that the room belonged to a girl.

Some lazy ray of light filtered into the room through the blinds closed. It was still afternoon.

Rachel sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. Another day was passed. She had fallen asleep after noon, roughly. She had rested until then, but she still felt powerless. Her head was throbbing badly, she was exhausted and sore. "All right Rachel" she murmured, sighing. "... you can do this... just... keep concentrating. Don't mess anything, or..."

A stab of pain hit her stronger in the head. The girl groaned. Suddenly her heart quickened its beats, her breathing became irregular and she began to hyperventilate.

"No ..." she murmured, gasping for air. "Not ... not now ..."

She pressed her hands on his temples with extreme force. "Please, please, do not do it, do not do it ..."

She opened his eyes, held his breath for a moment, then rejected him off. "You can do this, Rachel, you can control them, you just need to calm down, you have to Rachel relax, relax ... you ... you ... agh!"

She separated her head from her hands. The palms had begun to burn terribly. She looked down to check and saw both his hands began to tremble. She paled. "No, no, no, no ..."

Again, she held his breath and closed her eyes. "I can do this, I can control them, I can do this, I can control them..."

She felt her lasts energy starting to being sucked away. The heart continued to pound in her chest. After interminable moments, however, she felt her heart rate to stabilize, and even breathing returned to normality, as if her body really was listening to her words. She managed to find the courage to open her eyes. Everything was normal.

She sighed loudly, then she collapsed on the mattress. She did it, again. For at least another day she wouldn't have to fight. Maybe.

She couldn't keep going in that way. She passed days after days segregated in her room, struggling with herself. To try to repress her own body, because she was scared of what it could be able to do. She had to do something, find a way to keep her mind occupied. Stay at home wasn't the right decision, definitely.

At least, the situation in the city wasn't so much bad anymore. Unadjusted, but at least subsided. Which was a great step forward. In addition, the atmosphere of his room had begun to oppress her.

The musty smell of the room suddenly came into her nose, unpleasant as an unwanted visitor. Rachel grimaced. That was too much, even for her. She had to get out.

She nodded to herself, grabbed the black sweatshirt with a hood that she had left to the edge of the mattress and put it on the tank top she used to sleep, then got out of bed and headed for the door.

The wooden floor creaked under her feet, as well as the door when she opened it.

A bare corridor led her into the living room. Here, Tara was sprawled on the couch, intent on watching television. How did she could pass the time watching the garbage that was transmitted, for Rachel was a mystery. Since the day of the explosion, on TV they had sent nothing but news, old movies taken by some kind of landfill and spot against terrorism. Needless to say she had never watched any of those things.

She ignored the blonde girl and headed for the door. Tara did not seem to notice her until she grabbed the handle. "What are you doing?" She asked, lazily shifting his gaze to her, apathetic. Not really seemed interested, she probably had only asked for courtesy.

"I'm going out," Rachel answered, opening the door.

"And the Reapers? You know it's dangerous to go out. "

Rachel smiled, trying to sound sure. She raised a hand. The palm lit up with a faint black light. "They doesn't scare me."

Tara watched the girl with his blue eyes devoid of any emotion, then she shrugged and turned his attention back to the television. "Whatever."

The smile faded from Rachel's face when she heard that answer. She lowered his hand and sighed, then she went out, closing the door behind her.

Down to the streets, the situation was even worse than she remembered.

Empire was a city on the East Coast that stood on three different islands, one per district. There was the Neon, where she lived, then the Warren and the Historic District. She always thought that the Neon was been the most beautiful of the three.

But at that moment, in front of her eyes, even the Neon looked like the ghost of the old himself. A place now made up of beggars and abandoned buildings. Neon signs that once made the roads a sparkling mix of colors now were off. Cinemas, bars, discos, clubs that provided all kinds of entertainment, were now closed, with barred doors and windows. The people rummaging in rubbish bins to find something to eat, bodies of cars, and also of people, were on the roadside.

Some cars were passing on the street, but they were few, and they were all dented and rusty.

Rachel hided her head under the hood of his sweatshirt, to conceal her pale face from prying eyes. She was imposed to continue keeping her violet eyes low, to ignore those poor begging and, above all, not to look at any of those who walked beside her.

She came out to breathe some fresh, clean, air and to try to distract a bit, but all she had breathed until then was the desolation of a now dying place. And the only distractions he found were the starving slumped on the sidewalk full of cracks.

The explosion had brought profound changes to that city.

People lived each in his own world. No one spoke to anyone, everyone behaved exactly like her. Everyone was afraid.

"Help me ..." A voice suddenly rose into the air. The tone was faint, seemed to go off at any moment. It was followed by a series of horrible moaning, verses of pain and coughing.

A man was lying on the sidewalk, not far from her, he was writhing. "It ... it hurts ..."

Rachel froze. She stayed to watch him wallowing in his grief, without knowing what to do. He was wounded on several points of the body, as if he had just been beaten cruelly. Which it could easily have happened for real. He might have been hijacked by someone, or worse.

"P-Please ... anyone... "still gasped the man, holding out a hand to the passers, which were all ignoring him.

The girl stood motionless, watching him. He needed help. He was suffering and no one seemed willing to give him importance. She had to do something. But what? Her hand came out almost independently of her pocket. She looked down and watched it. She swallowed, then concentrated and the palm lit up again in the black light. She looked at his hand, then the man on the ground, then again the hand. A thought crossed her mind.

Maybe ... maybe I can ...

"Hold on!" Another voice, this time from a most acute stamp, startled her and convince her to bring back her hand in the pocket.

A woman had just bent down beside the man, and was examining the wounds. Rachel immediately recognized his green shirt and his blue jeans. "Don't worry, I'm a doctor."

The man gasped something, then left the woman to check him.

Rachel kept watching the scene, motionless.

The doctors. Probably the only heroes that could still exist in that forgotten town. The only ones who still cared about other people, the only ones who would continue to carry out their work, with the sun and the rain.

Meanwhile, a crowd gathered around the doctor and the man, everyone talking softly.

Rachel grimaced. Hypocrites. People that before wouldn't care of that poor man, now pretended interest simply because there was already someone else to check him. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, then continued on her way, bypassing the group.

Maybe, the arrival of that doctor had been the better thing. She was not very sure about what she could do with her powers. Also, she did not want to risk being seen by someone. She wasn't in the mood to listen someone call her a monster, or stuff like that. She shuddered at that thought. She quickened his pace. She just wanted to get away from there and soon.

She continued on her way, and started to think that, maybe, get out like that wasn't a great idea. After all, she had done, nor seen, nothing really interesting.

She met others wounded in the street. Other beggars, other people rummaging in the trash. Other corpses.

Victims. Victims of victims.

All caused, those who directly and those who not, by a single event, happened in a terrible day, a month before. The explosion, so it had been called. And it was just an explosion of gigantic proportions in the heart of the Historic District that has shocked the city.

Thousands of people died that day, and even at that time its effects had repercussions on the civilians.

When people had realized that none of them would get assistance from the government after the destruction of an entire district, the riots had arrived. Thefts, robberies, rapes. No one had done anything to stop it. The policemen, the only ones who could still have to do something, they did not lift a finger. They were all dead, or too frightened to fight.

As if it were not enough, around the city started to grow the rumor that an epidemic had struck the city. Whether it was true or not, Rachel did not know, after all, it was impossible to figure out who was really sick and who does not. In any case, that was the pretext that the government had used to seal the city. They had cut off all contact between Empire and the outside, setting up places patrolled by hundreds of federal on every road or bridge that would lead towards to the border with other metropolises. The seas were controlled by dozens of destroyers and the antiaircraft knocked down any unauthorized aircraft or helicopter. There was no way to leave. They were all quarantined.

The locals were literally caged, together with all those psychopaths who had taken advantage of the already uncomfortable situation to be able to commit all of any crimes.

The only thing that was done for them was the release of the crates of supplies, food and medicines, in discontinuous periods. And finally there was her. She did not even want to think about what had happened to her.

"Attention, citizens of the Neon District of Empire City." A voice suddenly exploded from the dozens of speakers scattered around the city. Rachel looked up, to the big screen situated on the top of a high tower. This was turned on, which meant only one thing: a major announcement was about to be transmitted. It usually happened for a reason only. A man with his face obscured appeared on the screen. He began to speak, while the image flickered occasionally. "We have just reported that the feds have just dropped a supply of food to Archer Square. The liars in power have also said that each one will have his share and that will come more food. Easy to talk when you're not having to live in this hell! The truth is that we has been all abandoned! No one will come to save us, so hurry and go to Archer Square and take that food before the Reapers arrive! "

Rachel watched and listened the ban all the time, surprised. The screen went dark again. "Wow ..." she commented, surprised by the words spoken by that man. She knew that they were all doomed, she knew that they had been all abandoned and that no one would ever have tried to save them, but she had never said that openly. Neither she, nor anyone who just as she knew it. Those were things that weren't said, as not to panic who was crazy enough to hope for some help from heaven. Not even the government was pleased to know that there was someone who slandered him. Apparently, someone who wasn't afraid to say things as they were still existed.

He will not have a long life ..., she thought, watching the now black screen.

But he could not think about that man that much, because all the people who at first was rummaging in the trash, now started to run, all together, each with a common goal: Archer Square.

"Out of the way, boy!" Said a man who nearly bumped into her at his passage.

"I'm not ..." she tried to answer him, but he was already light years away from her. Rachel grunted with rage, then she sighed.

People kept running beside her. She thought about those provisions. A bit of food would not have certainly sucked, to be honest. Furthermore, if she had brought a little even at Tara, maybe the things between them would be adjusted.

Maybe.

Archer Square. It was not very far. Rachel nodded to herself. She could do this. She readjusted the hood on the black hair, then she began to run.