Chapter Six
The Three Heavens: Angels, Demons, and What Lies Ahead

The Collinscorp tank rolled to a stop in an empty suburban street a block from Rayford Steele's house. Buck breathed a sigh of relief seeing the familiar Mount Prospect landscape. The relative normalcy—as normal as anything could be during the Tribulation—was starkly shattered when he turned around to see the others emerging from what appeared to be a hole in the world. The cloaking technology on the tank was already remarkable, but the strange golden computer chip these 'Teen Titans' had added to it had improved the light refraction realism by almost three hundred percent. The tank could only be detected by the naked eye after careful study from mere feet away. Any passing observer would have no chance of seeing it.

"Twilight," said Michelle. "How do your powers work exactly? You think you'll be able to become animals bigger and smaller than yourself when you're more adjusted to this universe? Doesn't that violate the conservation of mass?"

Buck rolled his eyes. The boy obviously had incredible abilities, but he didn't like it when the computer hacker indulged the Titans in their story about being from another world. He wasn't a stranger to the theory; he'd seen Sliders reruns on TV as a kid. But that was sci-fi, and he'd sooner believe that the Titans' powers came from some dark magic than another Earth.

Twilight clambered out of the Tank himself.

"In my world there's a sort of morphogenic field around the Earth. Blackbird calls it The Red. I guess because, you know, meat. I'm a vegetarian but you get the idea, right? This energy field that links all life on the planet. When I transform into an animal smaller than I am, the rest of my body mass goes into the field. If I transform into an animal bigger than I am, I pull energy from The Red and transform it into mass. But apparently the morphogenic field on this world just doesn't exist, or it's messed up."

"It exists," Blackbird said. Buck reached out a hand to help her step off the Tank, but the witch began to hover, ignoring his offer. "But it's not… right. Animalism magic has never exactly been my field of expertise but even I can tell The Red is wrong here."

"I guess the Red's feeling a bit green around the gills," Twilight said, prompting a groan from the other heroes.

Twilight bounded into the middle of the street, transforming into a hawk, then a rabbit. A few hops later he transformed back into his human form. Buck could still hardly believe his eyes, but Twilight just seemed disappointed. "Still not able to pull much more than I put in. Maybe I can manage a horse or buffalo if I try hard enough, but don't expect a T-Rex."

Once everyone had clambered out of the Tank, Buck led the group—four impossible superheroes and two lesbians—towards his father-in-law's house. Rayford's vehicle was not in the driveway, but Amanda's little car was. Buck pushed open the gate and motioned for the others to wait in the shadows as he tiptoed onto the porch and rang the doorbell. He checked his watch. It was 11:59. Rayford would most certainly be up and Amanda was a light sleeper—

When the door squeaked open it was neither Ray nor Amanda, but Chloe that greeted him.

"Oh my word, Buck!" she launched forward, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Thank God you're alive. We hadn't heard from you—"

"I thought you were still in New York," he said, full of relief. "Are Amanda and your father here?"

Chloe blinked. "Amanda's in bed but I'm sure I just woke her up. Dad is on his way to Texas. He has to fly."

"Damn," whispered Buck. "Well I don't want to alarm you, Chlo, but I didn't come here alone. I nearly got killed in Los Angeles and I brought the people who rescued me here."

"Rescued you?" Chloe said. She stuck her head out the door, finally beginning to perceive the shapes in the crowd. "Those superheroes from that Youtube video? Then they were real!"

"They're really something," Buck said non-committaly. "Get Amanda up, this isn't our house so it's not really our call whether they're allowed to stay here."

"They saved your life," Chloe said. "Why wouldn't they be?"

"Wait until you hear what they plan to do."

Robin hoped to explain, as best he could, where he was from and what his goal was to Amanda Steele. The twenty-something couple of Michelle and Tanya had been won over easily enough, and though Buck was having trouble accepting the words, Robin could tell Buck at least understood. Robin worried that Amanda, a middle-aged woman who looked more at home in a book club than at the coffee table of a planned global revolution, would combine Buck's religious resistance to his explanation with that baby boomer's knack for not comprehending the world beyond the parameters established during their youth.

Amanda surprised him.

"Okay then," she said. "What can I possibly do to help you?"

Robin blinked. "Wait, just like that? You believe me?"

Amanda bit her lip. "I don't have any solid reasons to trust you and I don't think I even understood half of what you said. But you want to take down Carpathia. I understand that and I'm absolutely on board."

"Amanda," Buck said, clearly having trouble remembering not to gape. "Even assuming we can trust them, it's not possible to fight Carpathia in the way they're talking about. God has laid out a plan for the end times. Carpathia gets his seven years and then it's over."

Amanda pressed her lips together. Robin leaned in.

"If what you believe is true—that all that's happened so far is God's will and we just don't understand it, then trying won't change anything. We'll fail, but if you're right, God will end this in five years anyway."

Chloe frowned. "I sense a 'but' coming."

Robin sighed. This is where it would be tricky.

"If we're right, then you've all been deceived. God doesn't want all these horrible events to happen. Carpathia, this vanishing, they're the work of malicious forces from somewhere else—another planet, another dimension, who knows. And there are billions of children—like your brother, Mrs. Williams, as well as millions of adults like your mother who have been taken against their will for God knows what."

"That's not true," growled Buck. "We've seen God's hand at work in the form of the Witnesses in Jerusalem. I've felt the presence of the Lord with me. I witnessed Nicolae Carpathia murder two men in cold blood in front of a room full of witnesses. But everyone had their memories altered by Carpathia's power. Only I—and he—saw what really happened. The Lord spoke to me."

"He did?" said Raven. "What did He tell you?"

"'Silence'," Buck repeated in a low, reverent whisper. "'Not a word.' It saved my life that day."

"So by your own admission, the one time you heard from God, He told you to shut up," said Tanya.

In spite of the tense atmosphere—or perhaps because of it—a short burst of chuckles rolled over the room, even from Chloe, who immediately looked contrite and angry with herself. Buck just glowered, his face turning red.

Robin rested his chin in his hand. "You're not helping," he said.

"I know," Tanya said. "I'm a reporter. A very tired and cranky reporter. I'm no goddamn used to you right now."

"Get some rest." Amanda stood and motioned to the stairs. "You can use my bed. I'll sleep on the couch. Don't argue, I insist."

Tanya left the room, looking as though she'd drag the ground if her posture sank any lower. Michelle followed close behind her. Buck looked like he was about to tell Amanda something, but stopped himself. Apparently, he thought better of it; maybe the man could learn.

"We're all tired," Raven admitted. "We could all use some rest."

"Yeah. And Buck…" Beast Boy walked across the room and put a hand on Buck's shoulder. "The whole planet here is in serious trouble. Maybe it was God that protected you from the mind-mojo that day. I don't think any of us are ruling out that possibility. But I also can't rule out the possibility that Carpathia can be stopped."

He motioned to Raven. "The bunch of us and Blackbird's boyfriend took down the biggest baddest demon you'll ever see a couple years ago. It looked like the world would end, dude, but it didn't."

"If you're wrong, a lot of people will die. What if Carpathia gets his hands on you? Tortures you and you spill about me? My wife?"

"You think the Antichrist doesn't know who you married?" Robin said. "He probably thinks he has you under his mind-control and that's why he keeps you in your position, but I'm sure you and everyone you know are in a big database."

"I helped Loretta encrypt our church records," Chloe said. "And I don't mean digital encryption, I mean she keeps them in cypher on paper. I don't think Carpathia even knows my dad attends New Hope Village Church."

Starfire shifted in her seat by the window. "Why would Carpathia know even more about your father than he does about his minister of the propaganda?"

"Oh, did Buck not tell you?" Chloe shrugged. "My dad's a pilot currently assigned to Carpathia's plane."

Robin was filled with an emotion he couldn't quite name, like a mixture of the whole spectrum. Shock, disbelief, a pang of worry, anger, and even a bit of utter astonishment. These were the worst revolutionary fighters in the history of mankind.

"Your FATHER is the personal pilot of the man you believe to be the Antichrist!?" Robin practically shouted. He turned to Buck Williams, who returned his gaze staring bemusedly, as if not quite comprehending the blunder. "Way to bury the lede there, mister investigative journalist! Captain Steele controls the personal aircraft of the world's most evil man and he hasn't thought to try and crash it into a mountain or something?"

"Are you saying my dad should kill himself?" Chloe snapped.

"No," Raven shot back. "But this information changes everything. How can you all not see this? Your father's position gives us a direct line of attack. Smuggle one of us on board—" Raven glanced to Beast Boy. "And he can get your father off that plane after he sets the controls to crash."

"I thought you Titans didn't kill people," said Buck. "Does that principle just go out the window when don't have to pull the trigger yourselves?"

"That's our code on our world," Robin said. "This is your fight on your world, and we want to help. But the fact that you have that kind of access to this Potentate and haven't taken strategic advantage of it yet makes me wonder if you're really interested in fighting at all."

"Fighting was never an option," Chloe said defensively. "The prophecies have all been coming to pass exactly as the Bible said. You're the ones who think you can change future history."

"Alright!" Amanda said. "Enough. Those poor girls upstairs are trying to get some sleep and I think we should all rest. We're not going to do plan anything without Rayford in on it, it will be his ass on the line if we go through with this…"

Buck Williams rose and moved towards Amanda's chair, leaning against the wall there.

"What would Irene say if you let these people get Rayford killed?" he muttered.

"Cameron Williams," said Amanda. "You forget I knew Irene before the Rapture. You're in no position to lecture me about what her opinion on this would be."

Raven arched an eyebrow. "Irene was Rayford's first wife?"

Chloe Steele-Williams nodded. "Yes, my mother."

Robin knew the expression on Raven's face—her empathic senses had picked up something unusual or interesting. But since emotions were a private thing, he wouldn't press Raven for information unless the empath thought it was worth bringing to his attention.

"Look, regardless of what happens from here on out," said Robin, "Thank you all for your hospitality. But our host is right. We need to get some rest."

Sleep was peaceful that night for Chloe, back in her childhood bedroom, Buck snuggled up tight to her in the tiny twin bed, his back against the Friendship is Magic wallpaper of days gone by. As she awoke, bleary eyed, Rarity's violet tail seemed to shoot out of Buck's head like rabbit ear. The sky outside was overcast and she didn't remember hearing the alarm, but the clock by the bed read 9:53 AM, well after the time she'd set it for. Muttering unkind things about mid-00s Samsung products she climbed out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, where she had to wipe the steam from the mirror to see herself. As she washed her face and began to recall the harsh words of the night before, a strange fog seemed to be trying to assert itself over her mind. Something was wrong with the world, the way the nations had given up their sovereignty, their weapons.

Was it possible that even those who had been saved since the Rapture were affected? That she and Buck and even her own father had been manipulated by Carpathia's powers to some degree?

Chloe had never been a credulous person—that was one of the reasons, she thought, that she'd been left behind: a refusal to believe. Her college days seemed so far away now, even though they really weren't. Her opinions and beliefs, things she'd been so sure of prior to the disappearance of her mother and Raymie, of so many other people, seemed uncertain. It may have simply been a natural consequence of having their worlds shaken up so drastically, but Chloe had lived with, known people at college—smart people who wouldn't be taken in pseudoscience nonsense of Carpathia's regime.

One physics student she'd known, Sara Choi, had been seriously shaken up by the vanishings—her brother Ryan was among the Raptured. Sara refused to believe in the R-word because, she protested, she was a Christian too and would have been taken. The last time Chloe had checked her Facebook before it became too painful, Sara was parroting the party line: the vanishings were a side effect of nuclear proliferation. No explanation of the mechanisms, no attempt to make it plausible. It was: "Radiation, something something, violation of the conservation of mass."

Up until these Teen Titans had shown up, the Rapture was—still was—the most logical explanation. But logic seemed to be a fleeting thing in the world. What if it was enemies of mankind, pitting believers against non-believers, making a segment of the population feel safe in the certainty of a victory in seven years to stave off any rebellion? It made almost as much sense as what Bruce Barnes had taught her, what her Bible's annotations had laid out.

Bruce. Dammit, it wasn't fair that he was sick in a hospital when he could provide insight, tell her what to believe—

"No!" Chloe said out loud, suddenly snapping back to reality, her face in the mirror, dripping wet. Why did she think that, wanting Bruce to tell her what to believe? She'd always hated people telling her what to think before, especially men who said they spoke for God.

"Oh, Lord," she whispered. "I need clarity."

"Oh Lord!" echoed a voice.

Chloe blinked, thought she was hearing her own strange echo from behind her in the bathtub, but realized that the voice was actually that of Tanya, the reporter, coming from beyond the wall. Chloe had forgotten they were even here until now. She went to their door and rapped on it slightly with the tips of her fingers, the door swinging open soundlessly on its loose hinges.

"OH LORD!" Tanya cried out. "Not here, Michelle, we're guests."

Tanya was pinned against the wall, naked as the day she was born, by Michelle, who was thankfully fully clothed. Both of them had wet hair, and a discarded towel lay by their feet. The younger woman was kissing Tanya's neck and face, but finally settled for a hug, and backed away. Chloe jerked back away from the open door but not before catching a nuclear waste emblem tattooed on Tanya's chest and noticing with a wince that both the reporters' nipples were pierced with shiny studs.

Feeling even redder than she must have looked, Chloe pointedly gazed away from her stepmother's bedroom and half walked, half fell down the stairs, stopping in the kitchen to grab a donut from the box open on the counter and shoving it down in hasty, ravenous bites. Amanda was already up and dressed, drinking coffee in front of the TV as a news report about further violence in Los Angeles played on the screen.

"Amanda!" she hissed. "Those two girls. They're lesbians."

"I figured," Amanda said drolly. "Did you not notice the get-a-roomy vibes last night?"

"You're okay with that?" Chloe said. "They were making out in your bedroom. What if they had sex?"

"Then I'll wash the sheets." Amanda leaned back. "Chloe, you don't have to like it, but I'm not going to throw them out of my house. Is Buck still sleeping?"

Chloe bristled. "Like a log. What about the other guests?"

"Twilight and the alien are in the back yard. The alien, Lord, I never thought I'd say that. The other two said they had business in town."

Chloe glanced out the window. The Tank which Buck and the others had arrived in was supposedly still invisible even in the light of day, but Chloe wondered, despite the Titans' assurances, if it had a tracking device, if it would draw violence down to the suburbs of Mount Prospect.

"Did they take their Invisible Boatmobile with them?"

Amanda took a sip of coffee. "No. They took my car. They wanted to keep a low profile."

A pause. "I'm still trying to get ahold of your father, Chloe. He texted me an hour ago and said Earl had shown him something game-changing. Do you know who that is?"

"Earl Halliday probably," said Chloe. "His old boss. The one who wanted him to start ferrying Nicolae around. What could he have on Carpathia to get my dad so excited?"

"Who knows? I'm just praying for clarity," said Amanda.

Somehow the use of that word—the same thing she had prayed for—lifted Chloe's spirits.

Collins Corp Chicago was located in the building that had once been the Chicago Hilton and Towers. In the mid-1990s it had been bought out by Crystal Collins, prior to her death, and converted into an R&D office meant, Raven surmised, to both ensure her son's financial future and keep him as far away from Los Angeles and his father as possible.

Oh, Noel.

Raven's normally controlled emotions bubbled over. Her and Robin's disguises renewed and altered—she now a blonde and he supporting a smattering of fake facial hair—they made their way into the elevator in the center of the building. It was easy enough to get an appointment with Noel; Raven knew him better than anyone alive, different Earth or not.

A little white exaggeration in lieu of a harmful lie. "I know your mother was murdered."

Not true, strictly. Raven believed that Maxwell had murdered Crystal Collins, as did Noel. But the one time they thought they'd found proof, it had turned out to be an elaborate deception to take revenge on Noel. The Titans' enemy Slade Wilson had broken Raven's lover by showing him how easily a 'Savior' could become a villain. Raven had made Slade pay dearly for his crime, but their Noel was still a broken man, trusting nobody, least of all himself. And meeting a doppelganger of Noel—sane, successful, but having no memory of her—was one of the few things that had ever put Raven so close to the edge.

But if anyone had the technology to get them home, it was Noel. Lex Luthor didn't exist on this world. Michael Holt, the foremost expert on interdimensional travel after the death of Silas Stone, did not exist either. Noel was here. But they had to convince him to help them.

"Are you sure you're calm enough for this?" Robin said. "If your powers get out of hand—"

"They won't," Raven said. "My emotions may not be in-check, but my magic is less potent in this world. I can keep it contained."

The elevator reached the penthouse floor and slid open. Penthouse was a misnomer; the top floor was an elaborate open office and laboratory, huge windows letting in the light of the overcast sky. A strange and prominent machine sat on the far wall, like a giant microscope with no place to put a slide; instead a projection screen rested behind it, held in place by two arms that jutted from either side near the top. Two more arms covered in diodes and sensors reached out and embraced an empty space in the middle.

"Admiring the chronoscope? Don't bother, it doesn't actually work." a voice drifted from across the room. By one of the windows, a figure in a white business suit stood, drinking from a cocktail glass. "No, I'm sure that's not why you're here. You said over the phone that you had information about the death of my mother."

The red hair was lighter than she remembered it, the face a bit older. But it was unmistakably Noel. Raven's power propelled her across the room, blowing any cover they might have had, as she pulled Noel into a tight embrace. The young man fumbled with his glass, spilling but deftly catching a bit of its red contents before it hit the floor. Evidently he got this reaction a lot from women.

"Noel!" said Raven.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," he said. "And this was honestly not the sort of greeting I expected from an informant. And I'm kind of thinking about calling security."

Raven released him. "I'm sorry. Emotion doesn't overcome me often."

"You're one of those superheroes," Noel said. "I'll be damned. But what does his have to do with my mother? How did you even know—"

"We could explain it to you," Robin said. "But making you believe us would be more difficult."

"My father sent you to gain my trust and pull me into some scheme of his?" Noel said. "I should have fucking known. Or are you Carpathia's goons? The IRS maybe? No, the IRS doesn't exist anymore."

"None of the above," said Raven. "We're from another world, a world where we've known each other a long time. You and I were—"

"Oh so that's your angle," Noel said, a gleaming smile flashing. His teeth were better in this world too; superhero dental plans couldn't hold a candle to Collins wealth. "And you were my lover? I doubt it. I prefer women to be a bit closer to my own age."

"You were younger in our world," Robin said. "Dammit. This would be so much easier if you had the Shimmer in this world."

Noel's blue eyes flashed in Robin's direction. "How did you know about the SHIMMER project? Seriously, who are you people?"

"Wait, what's the SHIMMER project?" Raven said. "That isn't what he meant."

"He wasn't talking about my neural interface program?" Noel scratched his head. "If that's not what he meant then how was it supposed to help me understand the situation?"

"Time out," Robin said. He pulled off his fake mustache. "Noel, please. My name is Tim Drake. If you have something that can prove we're telling you the truth, please go get it. Then we can start from the beginning."

Savior—no, Noel Collins—backed away from them warily, studying them. Robin kept wishing he had a birdarang for his hand to hover over.

Noel pressed a few buttons on a security console on the wall, then moved across the room to a small door that opened into some kind of high-tech dumbwaiter. From the compartment he took a locked metal case, opened it with his thumbprint, and set out two small devices that looked like single-ear headsets.

"I've marked this for personal use only," Noel said. "A neuroscientist who is no longer employed with us developed this, but its application for interrogation scared the piss out of me, especially in the wake of Carpathia's emerging police state."

Noel put one piece of the SHIMMER, labelled RECIEVER over his left ear, and handed the other, labeled TRANSMITTOR to Robin. Robin's eyes moved to Raven as he took the device; the empath gave him a slight nod. If this Noel was trying to deceive them, she of all people would have sensed it. At least, that's what Robin believed.

Robin placed the device over his own ear has Noel had done, and Noel flicked a switch on a piece of the SHIMMER unit still in the box.

"You may feel some pain," Noel said. "Try to relax."

Before Noel even had the sentence finished, Robin realized what an understatement it was. An intense stabbing pain pricked the side of his head around his ear, the whole device contracting and heating up. Then he felt something else—vaguely familiar, yet alien. On their world, Savior's talent had allowed strands of a neurological energy matrix called the Shimmer to snake through pores or other openings in the skin, attach themselves to nerves, and creep directly into the subject's brain. Ethics limited what Noel was allowed to do with this talent, but it was most often used to get information from an unwilling criminal's mind.

In theory, it could be used to do a lot more: torture, brain surgery, murder. Robin understood why the Noel of this world was afraid of even a limited technology-based echo of that capacity.

The world in front of Robin seemed to shimmer, as though a pane of undulating glass appeared between Robin and his surroundings; as the shimmering subsided a highly transparent phantom image of his own face now overlaid his vision.

"You see a dull image what I see now," Noel said. "That's a glitch, some sort of feedback my researcher was never able to work out of the system. I, on the other hand, can perceive your emotional states, probe surface level thoughts. I can tell if you lie, or if someone lies for you. Now if you want my help, you're going to have to talk."

Starfire did not know what to expect when the young woman called Chloe asked for her help, but she volunteered without hesitation. Star hated feeling useless, and she'd felt useless all morning. When it came to religion, she knew of many, but after travelling the galaxy and seeing so many races, so many people, the religions of the human race seemed so very terra-centric. It was true that Tamaranian holy writings, the Chapters of Xhal, focused primarily on the Tamaranians themselves, yet they spoke plenty of others. Tamaran's enemies, chiefly, and all the fitting ways they should die.

Even so, humans had only begun acknowledging the existence of extraterrestrial life when Superman first appeared. And though the Gandhi and the Jesus were certainly men of great compassion, from what Starfire knew of them, the details weren't something she had truly had to absorb, to concern herself with. Adjusting to life on Earth was difficult enough already, with her partially botched transfer of Robin's language skills, not holding the kiss long enough to fully assimilate English syntax.

"So you're from another planet," Chloe said. "Do you know anything about illness?"

"I was not trained as a doctor, sadly," Star said. She followed Chloe outside, the sun, even through the clouds, feeling nice on her finally-clean skin. She was not fond of painting herself in the colors of humans because it made it harder for her to absorb sunlight. "Why are you asking?"

"We mentioned our pastor, right? Bruce Barnes?"

Star nodded. "He is ill."

"Very ill. The doctors insist he's no longer contagious, and the hospital is overflowing. They say there's nothing they can do for him, so they're sending him home. He wants to be with loved ones when he passes."

Chloe's face was struggling to stay brave. Star placed a hand on the human's shoulder, trying to remember not to squeeze hard enough to cause discomfort. Chloe seemed to bristle at first, but then placed her hand on Starfire's. A few moments later, a pickup truck rolled to a stop and an elderly human climbed out of the driver's seat. She was weary, frail of body even, but had a stony determination in her face.

"How is he, Loretta?" Chloe said, moving to the passenger door.

"No better or worse than when we left," the old woman said. "Funny. I never thought one of y'all would go before me."

"Don't say that," Chloe said, a sad smile forming. "You'll outlive us all. See Jesus swoop down and save the day."

"I doubt that," Loretta said, though not bitterly.

Star stepped forward, pointedly not flying so as not to spook Loretta. "You wish for me to help move him inside?"

Chloe nodded unbuckling the pastor's seatbelt. Starfire winced as she saw him; Bruce Barnes looked pitiful. His face was ashen, his eyes baggy, and though he was muttering softly, Starfire couldn't tell if it the words were coherent or not. He reminded Star of photographs she'd seen of Cyborg's father Silas Stone, though slimmer. She easily lifted the man onto her shoulders, taking care not to cause him any further discomfort.

Loretta eyed her as she lifted the pastor, but Chloe quickly pulled the elderly woman aside to discuss church matters. Starfire carried Bruce into the house, up the stairs, and into a back bedroom that Amanda guided her to. Posters of Earth Movies and Cartoons that Starfire was unfamiliar with lined the walls.

"This room," Amanda said sadly. "It belonged to Raymie. Rayford's son with his first wife Irene. We believe he's in heaven now, you know, but your companions think they were taken somewhere else."

Starfire nodded solemnly. She gently lay Bruce Barnes down in the bed, ignoring him as he muttered something about the Shore of the New Jersey.

"I do not know if your beliefs are true or not," she said to Amanda. "But I do promise you that if your stepson is not in the Heaven, we shall bring him back to you."

The two people in front of Noel spun a story, and despite the impossible, even illogical nature of the story, it was a story that both of them utterly believed. They were superheroes—not just any superheroes, but apparently two DC Comics superheroes that he had never heard of—a third Robin and a powerful witch. They insisted that on their world, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Superman were just as real to them as Oprah Winfrey and Nicolae Carpathia were to this world. Noel had seen the videos; he knew these two had the powers and skills to back up their claims. It wasn't even the idea of them being a parallel universe that seemed absurd to him—certain aspects of string theory provided for the possibility of parallel realities.

"And you think whatever changed history," Noel said. "The same thing that stole the people of Earth and engineered Carpathia's rise to power, somehow also made real people fictional?"

"It doesn't make sense to us either," Timothy Drake said. "Maybe Robert is right and every universe is a fictional construct, layers on layers of reality that never end."

"Robert," Noel said. An image of a blond-haired boy surrounded by yellow energy flashed in his head. For some reason he felt a twitch and an echo of extreme annoyance. "Another one of your team mates who didn't come through to this world?"

"Yes," said Tim. "You can Google him. In your world he's the fictional Young Justice member Gauntlet."

"I'll take your world for it," said Noel. "And I'm a member of your team in your world as well. And I call myself 'Savior' like some pretentious asshole, and I swing through the city like Spider-Man on a bio-electric version of the Shimmer."

"I still feel your skepticism," the woman—the one called Raven—said. "But we don't have time for it. I know you. You haven't sat idly by and watched Carpathia rise to power. You've been building things. Learning things. Strategizing. I know how you think, Noel Alexander Collins. I may not know all of your history here, but I know your soul."

"You say you do," Noel said. "But it's not an easy thing to accept. 'Hello, I'm your girlfriend from another universe and I need you to help me take down the Antichrist.'."

"Nonetheless, that's where we are," said Tim.

"You will help us," Raven said—forcefully, certainly.

There was no threat in her tone, but a strange calm, a confidence. They'd said she was a empath, but—

Her eyes turned jet black and Noel felt a sudden tension from Tim; but it quickly relaxed.

"I know you better than you know yourself," Raven said. "Your favorite color is blue, but you'd say it's red because you hate to reveal your heart to anyone. If I asked you your favorite movie, you'd say The Godfather when it's really Man Bites Dog, because you don't want people to look at you, to see beyond the surface. As a teenager you sang "Eat You Alive" to an empty room because there was nobody who wouldn't judge you, because the woman you were supposed to sing it to and the woman you sang it about weren't there."

Noel tensed up, his heart jumping. How the fuck did she know about that damned Limp Bizkit song. He had been alone. Not in an empty room, but alone on his father's yacht, far away from the world.

Raven continued. "Everything in your mind is second guesses and third guesses and you agonize over every decision you make. You went through high school hating everyone around you because you judged them to be stupid and cruel, and most of them were. Your mother pulled you out of the private school and got you a private tutor, who you resented because she made eyes at your father. You could tell she had no interest in him, but despised your mother for having money and wanted to hurt her. And Crystal Collins endured it in stride because she was too formidable to be bothered by a petty college girl, too driven. She knew the evil your father was capable of, tried to mitigate it where she could. Prevented it from taking root in you; and you have this poisonous, freezing, electric certainty that it was your father who murdered her, that she died because he couldn't forgive her for saving you—ruining you, as he would put it. You talk to her when nobody is around, refer to Maxwell as The Bastard. When she died, you left Los Angeles. You went to New York, but the accident that found you there in my world, that changed you, didn't find you here. So you went to the only place you'd be safe. Your Dark Tower. Your Fortress Centrum, the place your mother had prepared for you."

Noel stared at her. The dark power that surrounded her had returned, but her eyes shone with tears.

"I know you. I've been in your mind, I've battled your demons. In my world, you battled mine—slew mine."

Raven hovered forward. Noel reflexively reached down to switch off the SHIMMER device, but before he could, she caught his hand, pulled it close to her chest.

"You killed the demon that wanted to rule my world. Let us help you with these demons that took yours."

"Fitzhugh, we've delayed long enough!" The angry growl of the militia leader cracked with static over the little radio. "Youtube video or not, we have to destroy that Romanian pig-fucker before he leaves the continental US. Your delays have already cost us plausible deniability on Bruce Barnes."

Fitzhugh winced. A preacher from Mount Prospect, Illinois, Bruce Barnes had come up on numerous Global Community intelligence reports as a figure of interest and a 'carrier' of an experimental bioweapon. Some of his American Agents thought he was just sick—a carrier in the sense of infection. Others thought he was an accomplice, publically speaking against Carpathia while secretly bringing hazardous materials into the United States. Fitzhugh tended to side with the former, but being president—especially a Democratic one—didn't exactly endear him to the right-wing militia groups that he ironically now called his allies against Carpathia. They were difficult to control.

Now, whether he was a victim or a conspirator, Bruce Barnes was out of the hospital and whereabouts unknown.

"Initiate the attack in Texas," Fitzhugh said. "Best intel puts Carpathia there. Godspeed, gentlemen."

Amanda Steele did not have a pearl necklace, but the way she was grabbing at the plastic beads around her neck with worry and consternation, she finally understood what the proverbial clutching of pearls was invoking. Bruce Barnes, that poor man. His wife had been Raptured along with their child; he, though an assistant pastor at a church, had been left behind. It nearly destroyed him—the disappearances had nearly destroyed many people Amanda knew. Had destroyed some. But Bruce had used that which he missed as the impetus for everything that came next. Even though she sometimes felt his actions were myopic, Amanda admired that he tried. When he'd gone to spread the gospel in other countries—or rather other regions of Carpathia's global state—she had thought it was dangerous and irresponsible, but also important. Prior to his departure, Bruce had seemed so focused on the concerns of his inner circle—of Buck and Chloe and Rayford and herself—that the onus of running the church often fell on poor Loretta. (Still, Loretta had risen to the occasion.)

Now, rest for the weary seemed further away than ever. Bruce lay dying in a child's abandoned bed, while Loretta could do nothing but watch.

"Lord, it hurts me to see him that way," she whispered to Amanda. "Would that I could take what ails him."

"Don't say that." Amanda tried to look compassionate rather than disapproving, but wasn't sure if she had managed it.

"Oh I don't mean take it on me," Loretta said. "I mean take it out of him and shove it up the Antichrist's behind."

Amanda forced down the chuckle. She'd never heard Loretta of all people expressing the desire to do violence, but in this case she sympathized. Why was this misfortune theirs and Bruce's to bear when the blood of so many would soon be on Carpathia's hands?

Amanda went back down stairs, brewed a pot of coffee, and gazed out the window for what must have been hours, lost in thoughts. Loretta left, and as the sun moved into the early evening, Amanda's car finally returned. The two young people—the strangers, Redbird and Blackbird, emerged from the car still in their civilian disguises, though the former had lost his fake mustache. But there was someone new with them: a man quite a bit older than they were, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt a couple sizes too large. His hair was a dark red, and though sunglasses covered his eyes, the man looked somehow familiar, as if Amanda had seen him before in a very different context.

She opened the door for the two-now-three.

"I was beginning to think I should file a police report," she said. She meant it as a joke, but the teens didn't seem to be in a laughing mood. "I mean on my car. You know… never mind."

"Get everyone in here," Redbird said. "We've brought the cavalry."

"One guy is the cavalry?" Amanda said. "Melinda May he isn't."

The man extended his hand and removed his sunglasses. "Amanda White, I believe? I nearly acquired your business a few years ago."

Oh my God, Amanda thought. That's Noel freakin' Collins.

The Steele household was getting extremely crowded. Amanda, Buck, and Chloe were family and sat side-by-side-by-side on a two-seater couch. Michelle and Tanya, eyed with a suspicious hostility from Buck and Chloe, though curiously not Amanda, stood near the back of the room. The four Teen Titans sat in chairs opposite the Steel and Williamses. And lastly there was Noel. Millionaire CEO, sitting in a rocking chair between the two 'sides' of the conflict. Raven felt it appropriate—the only man present known to exist in both this world and the Titans' own.

Besides those ten, the only other soul in the house was the ill Bruce Barnes, who lay upstairs in a fitful, coughing sleep. Raven would see him soon, but doubted there was anything she could do; disease was difficult to heal with her type of magic.

The house was hot with all the extra bodies, so as day turned to night, the windows were opened, the chilly air prickling Raven's skin despite the theoretically-insulating effect of the Caucasian body-paint she wore.

Amanda placed her phone down on the coffee table in front of her, on speaker phone, ensuring that both ends were encrypted to the best of Chloe's ability. Her husband, Rayford, was on the line, and though he was aware there were guests over, Raven was certain Amanda hadn't told him everything about them.

"Amanda, everyone, I don't have long. Thank God Carpathia doesn't smoke, right?" Rayford sighed. "Carpathia is no longer flying on Air Force One; he's commissioned an entirely new plane. It's called the Condor 216, but that's not the important thing here. Earl Halliday helped build this thing, and he installed something, this listening device. I can hear anything that Carpathia says on the plane. I can hear him planning. I'll know what he's up to, and that means we can stay a step ahead of him."

"That's fantastic, Ray," said Amanda.

Robin leaned in towards the phone and motioned to Amanda, inquisitively. Amanda nodded.

"Ray one of our guests wants to talk to you," she said.

"Captain Steele," Robin said. "I don't know how much Amanda told you about me, but I think we can pool our connections, if you'll let us. Your son in law is essentially Carpathia's propaganda minister. How about we let that work for us instead of for him."

There was a long hesitation from Rayford. "What did you have in mind?"

"We have technology that we can use to secure transmissions from your cockpit and channel them directly to our receivers. And from there, Buck can broadcast Carpathia's own plans to the world in virtually real-time. We'll shake the scales from the planet's eyes and let them see Carpathia for who he really is."

"That could be dangerous," Rayford said. "From what little I've been able to listen to, hostilities could bubble over at any moment. We could be sitting on the brink of World War III here."

"Glad there's only been two in this world," Beast Boy muttered.

"What?" said Rayford. "Who was that?"

"Another associate of mine," Robin said, shooting a side-eye at Beast Boy. "The one who'll be joining you at Ft. Worth."

"Look, I'm going to take off at midnight," Rayford said. "Maybe I can delay departure briefly, but—"

"Leave getting there to me," Noel said. "Mr. Steele, I've been following you for some time. Your connection to Nicolae Carpathia has been one I'm eager to take advantage of."

"Oh yeah?" Rayford spat. "Look, pal, I don't like being taken advantage of. And, well… I'm not sure if God wants us to kick this particular hornet's nest yet."

"At least give us a chance, Captain." Noel said. "We'll be there."

Raven rolled her eyes at Steele's hangup about being addressed as Captain instead of Mister. Boys.

"These guys are good, Ray." Buck reached out and picked up the phone, holding it close to him even though it was on speaker. "Sorry to keep everyone so worried about me, but I probably would have died if not for them. I'm not sure about their plan either, I've told them as much. But if it's humanly possible to give Carpathia a big black eye, these guys can do it."

"Get here first," Rayford said. "We'll see. I have to run and start preparations. Later, everybody."

Rayford disconnected. As soon as the phone call was over, Raven retreated into her mind, blocking out the discussion that started after the call ended and the emotions that began to flare up around it. The pain of the dying pastor drew her attention away from the argument that she growingly sensed to be pointless. Carpathia was a piece of something much larger; taking him down was essential and Raven did not have the wherewithal to argue if it was even possible. The theosophical implications of a rigid end-times plan that doomed billions to suffer and die, the conviction that good men could do nothing to prevent evil because that evil was ordained by the divine will? It was poison to the soul, something Raven could't afford given the demonic nature of her own soul.

And of course being around this alternate-universe Noel did not help her maintain mental discipline at all.

She hovered up, phasing through the ceiling and into the child's room, where the pastor now slept fitfully.

"Bruce Barnes," she said. "Perhaps I can help you."

Beast Boy did not want to hear the discussion—a terse, overly polite argument, more like—that the others were having about how to take down Carpathia. When he saw Raven vacate the room through the ceiling, he took advantage of the momentary freak-out from Chloe and slipped out of the living room. He figured Raven had gone to check on the sick preacher, following the sound of her quiet chant, the repeating mantra that she used: Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos.

This time there were other words mixed in.

Beast Boy often thought of himself as the only religious Teen Titan, though that wasn't strictly true, even among the original five. Raven was more religious than any of them—it was just a different religion. Born in a city called Azarath, in an outside dimension created by the witch-goddess Azar, Raven had grown up devoted to Azar's teachings. It was how she kept herself human—in more ways than one. She had been born to give her life and body to form a portal for her evil father, Trigon, to emerge into the world of mortals and conquer it. That was supposed to have happened on a solar eclipse shortly after her 18th birthday, but it didn't. Savior's influence had forced Trigon to move early, and when he came through in a weakened state, the Titans had fought back and won. The Gem never became the Portal.

But before that could happen, Raven had been forced to endure fifteen years of religious training to keep her mind and soul calm and focused. And though he knew all this, it still caught him off guard when he realized that Raven's mantra, was more desperate than normal. Like a prayer.

"Beast Boy," she said. "Get Amanda. This man is not sick. He's been poisoned."

Beast Boy blinked. "Are you sure—?"

"GET HER!" Raven snapped. "When he comes out of this the last thing he'll want to see is a witch casting a spell on him."

"You're not casting a spell," Beast Boy said. "You're praying."

"What do you think a spell is?" she said. "Just a prayer to a god that he doesn't believe in. Get Amanda."

Beast Boy ran back down the stairs, shifted only his vocal chords into those of a lion, and growled to silence the argument. Every eye turned to look at him.

"Blackbird says that Bruce was poisoned, not sick. Amanda, he needs you."

Amanda moved, but so did Chloe and Buck, though Buck sat back down when he realized how far behind he was. Raymie's room was too small to fit many people.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Beast Boy turned and followed them back up. For whatever it was worth, he began to pray. Amanda and Chloe stopped dead in front of the door.

"What is she doing to him?" Amanda said. "Is she casting some kind of voodoo spell?"

"She's trying to get the poison out," Beast Boy said. He could see sweat beading on Raven's forehead. The blond wig fell off, revealing her own violet hair tied tightly behind her head. The dark energy around her soon disintegrated the ties, her hair flying free and assuming the winged shape of a raven as it sometimes did when she was casting.

"This isn't any ordinary poison!" she grunted. "Not of earthly origin. No wonder the doctors were unable to—"

A flash of light blinded Beast Boy, but he saw soon enough to notice Chloe's back ploughing into him, driven by Amanda, who was in turn driven by Raven, until the three women and he were piled up in a corner. Down the hall, Bruce Barnes lay seized up on the bed, a demonic looking entity hovering in a shimmering golden sphere above him.

Raven raised a hand and the sphere came to her, the entity in the sphere's face seeming to shriek, though no sound came. Raven phased through the floor, even as Beast Boy transformed into a squirrel and bounded down the stairs.

"Starfire!" said Raven, forgetting their codenames. "Outside, now."

Raven forced open the door with a wave of soul-self energy. Beast Boy and Starfire followed after her, he shifting back into human form in time to see Raven hurl the captured poison into the sky.

"Decontamination Starbolt," Raven said, collapsing onto the grass.

Starfire raised both hands and a twisting green blast shot out of her palms, straight as a laser beam until it intercepted the trajectory of the poison; the bolt exploded into a huge flash and Beast Boy almost thought he heard the poison shriek in pain before the explosion subsided.

He moved over to help Raven up, but found her unconscious, breathing quick, shallow breaths.

"She's down, Star" he said. "Did healing Bruce do this to her?"

"NO, IT DIDN'T, MORTAL." A flutter of wings. "THE GIRL'S DEMON-BLOOD BOILS IN OUR HOLY PRESENCE."

Beast Boy turned, again blinded by radiance. But this time, it was not a mere flash. Two shining winged beings flew before him, silver helmets and golden armor covering them, with alabaster skin on their smooth faces. On both their chests, the crest of a bull's head rested, red eyes blazing down at him. And both of them held massive golden tower shields in one hand, one accompanied by a sword and the other with a Morningstar mace.

Angels. Beast Boy was the only thing standing between Raven and a pair of angry-looking angels.

"Oh, God," he said.