No Raven: Black Christmas

"Raven. The love of your life."

"…let's get this over with."


Jump City, Florida.

Marissa Mori really wished that she'd taken her father somewhere for Christmas.

It probably would have been better. Jump City had seen better days, FAR better days. But finances were hardly glowing all around, and besides, part of what made Mitch Mori proud (besides her) was that he'd toughed out all the trials that the city had been faced with, ever since that fateful day, and he'd stuck around.

Hadn't prevented him from sending her to MIT, though. Sometimes Marissa wondered if the distance had anything to do with it.

"I tried to call a cab, dad. They wouldn't come out here." Marissa said, walking down the street, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Despite her divided attention, any observer would have noticed that Marissa expertly stepped around any icy or dirty patches that had managed to get a grip on the downtown street.

The lone observer, however, didn't notice these sorts of things.

"Look, it's not my fault my bus broke down…yes I know…no, I didn't…no. Who knows when he would show up?" Marissa said, stopping to brush some dirt off her long skirt. "I'm just going to walk a few more blocks to another bus line. I'll be fine."

Marissa cocked her head, trying to hear her father talk over the wind that was whipping up. If it continued, her peacoat wasn't going to prove to be warm enough.

"He tried to take me to Atlantis. It took me an hour and a half to convince him that leaving the breathing-underwater part up to luck was NOT a good idea." Marissa said. "When I finally did, he was all pouty and disappointed. I don't think he'll ever get used to having someone keeping him grounded. But by the time I'd talked him out of it, we had somehow walked into downtown New York. I don't even remember how, though I think I vaguely recall boarding a bullet train while explaining basic physics to him. If I didn't know him better than that, I'd be certain it was planned-"

The sound of a can being kicked caught Marissa's attention, and she looked around.

Nothing leapt out at her, and she quickly glanced up to be on the safe side. Finding nothing there either, she turned her attention back to her phone.

"Then again, with Adam you can't tell what he has planned and what he's just reacting to…I'm near the 201, that's one that would take me home ri-"

Marissa stopped, looking carefully into the alleyway she was passing.

Which allowed the thug to plow into her from behind and push her into the alleyway. Her cell phone clattered to the ground as the thug followed his prey into the shadows.

The first thing that popped into Marissa's head, strangely enough, was to admonish her attacker for not watching where he was going. The second was that maybe her dad had been right.

She really didn't get to have any others, as the thug grabbed her up and smashed her against the alleyway wall, back first, the impact slamming through Marissa as her purse fell to the ground.

"Lovely." The thug said, popping a switchblade.

Said lovely thing should have been the last clear sight he had, as Marissa jerked up her arm and violently twisted her wrist. The attachment on her arm activated, and Marissa sprayed a cloud of mace right into her attacker's eyes.

Unfortunately, the swiftness of his attack had kept Marissa from seeing he was wearing goggles.

"Sorry babe. Not new." The thug said, seizing Marissa by the throat by his free arm and shoving her backwards again, the back of her head slamming against the bricks behind her. Stars exploded in her vision, even as her lungs began to cry for air.

However, Marissa was not 'new' either. The thug found this out the hard way as she lashed out with her boot and kicked him in the side of the knee as hard as she could.

"OW!" The thug yelled, loosening his grip as he stumbled to the side. As a result, he was caught completely off guard when Marissa shoved him backwards. Scrambling away, Marissa tried to catch her breath.

"YOU BLEEP!" The thug yelled, recovering quicker than Marissa expected as he grabbed for her again. This time, however, she knew he was coming.

The thug found his grip being turned against him, as Marissa shifted her weight in it and shoved him again. The thug tripped, falling to the ground with a 'whup!' Marissa made a half-hearted kick at his knife hand before turning to run.

The thug seized her ankle, and Marissa lost her own balance and fell. The thug immediately jumped on her, pinning her to the ground.

"Bleeping…" Was all he got out. He hadn't managed to pin Marissa's arms.

Which allowed her to yank off his goggles. And mace him again.

The thug screamed, rearing back and releasing his grip. Marissa pulled herself free and shoved with her foot, pushing her attacker away. She managed to crawl a few feet to grab her purse and get herself out of her attacker's range, the thug snarling and screaming curses behind her. Standing up and starting to run, Marissa mused in the back of her mind that her dad had been more right than she'd realized. Well, she was getting out while the…

The form dropped down into the alleyway, cutting off her escape. Marissa drew up short at the sight.

Then she sprayed mace into the newcomer's face as well. Unfortunately, he didn't react at all.

"BLEEPING BLEEP! I'LL RIP YOUR BLEEPING…!" The thug screamed, tears running from his burning eyes as his sight began to return.

He turned right into the hand seizing him, yanking him in close to a black-masked face. The thug could barely make out details at the close range with his distorted vision, only seeing a wall of black with two blank white marks where the eyes were.

"No matter what I do, your kind just refuse to leave." The figure said. "Always crawling out of the woodwork. You'd think you'd learn."

Marissa stared in shock, as the black costumed figure held the thug out, white energy lines springing out of his arm. She knew who this was, knew he was real…but actually seeing him in action was something else.

Backlash. Jump City's guardian.

"So all I can do is make sure you don't come back. Ever."

Noel smashed the thug into the wall, preceding to drag the hapless criminal through several feet of weakened brick before he let go, the would-be ambusher buried under who-knew how many pounds of stone.

"Now you won't." Noel said.

Marissa, still where she had been when Noel had ignored her mace to push past her and 'deal' with her attacker, stared in the mild puzzled alarm that briefly ruled people's heads when something truly unexpected happened. Noel looked back at Marissa, all black cape and body armor, a costume and mask cut from the same cloth as his mentor. Marissa vaguely noticed the mask/headpiece was open at the top, and the upper black part of said costume was actually black pointy hair (heavily dyed daily).

"…so…you're just partly an idiot then?" Noel said.

"…huh?" Marissa said.

"Smart enough to have mace up your sleeve. Have enough of a grip on yourself to use it properly." Noel said, stalking towards Marissa. "Yet you walk through this part of town, at this time of night, talking on a cell phone?"

Marissa realized that Noel was offering her said cell phone.

"…okay, stop it." Marissa said, taking the cell phone: her composure had finally returned. "I get the whole creature of the night performance, but I'd have gotten away anyway. Unlike you, he didn't ignore my mace when it counted. So you can stop trying to turn me into a quivering puddle of goo via your eyes."

"…call the police, woman." Noel said. "And don't do this again. The world doesn't have many smart people left, and we really can't afford to have them lost to flashes of stupidity."

"Right. Don't trip over your capes. You have enough of them."

"…just call the police, woman. I have bigger fish to fry tonight." Noel said, firing a Shimmer line up to the alleyway roof. Within a few seconds he had vanished from sight.

Marissa glanced at her phone and sighed. Her father was going to hit the roof. Honestly, Marissa wondered if she could just not tell him at all and not just blame it on a technical error of her phone. If he knew, he might run right down to the city and try and beat the bleep out of the thug himself. Considering there wasn't much left of the thug after Backlash got ahold of him, that was really saying something.


December 21st. The Winter Solstice. The darkest evening of the year.

The state of Denmark has nothing compared to what is rotten in my city. Oh, maybe I say that too often, but there's always been an unfortunate grain of truth in it. No matter what I do, the damn'd spot just won't come out.

It doesn't change anything. Maybe I can't eradicate crime and human evil (or any other evil), but I can still keep fighting. Maybe eventually I'll make a difference. The pendulum is due to swing back.

I spare myself such optimism because I doubt I'll find much of it during this night.

There's a whisper, a rumor. I don't even know if it's true. For all I know, I'm running around chasing phantoms while someone commits their crimes elsewhere.

If that is the case…well, I'll just have to forgive myself later. I'd be less prone to forgive myself if I didn't confirm what I have heard might be making its way through my city.

I don't know why they'd try to move it through Jump. Trying to understand why villains think the way they do is something I gave up on a long time ago. It doesn't matter. They shouldn't be trying the bleep I've heard whispers of, as much as there shouldn't be any human vermin running around and attacking girls, no matter what part of the city you're in. I would think my efforts would have done something about that.

If not, I'll keep working at it. One drop of water may do nothing to a boulder, but a million will crack it in half.

The usual suspects have dealt out no useful information tonight though. Either the people running this are better at being quiet than the norm, or good at strangling any offshoot of the underworld grapevine that comes near them. Neither bodes well. At least I happened along that attack in the process. I'll take the fact she could have escaped without me in stride: her attacker won't be victimizing anyone else with what I did.

When I'm done, if what I have heard is true…whoever's running this won't be doing it in my city any more either.


"…liver weight appears normal. Have collected appropriate samples for testing." Sophie Mathews said into her tape recorder, before placing it down and putting on a fresh glove. She bent back over her current assignment, containing the unpleasant business of examining the deceased's innards. Well, unpleasant for some. For Sophie, it was her living.

"Current cause of death is a single puncture mark in the greater valve of the heart…" Sophie murmured, refreshing her mental notes for later dictation. "If this man hadn't been stabbed, he would have died in a month anyway: he has a large tumor in his left lung…"

Sophie paused for a moment, glancing up. Finding nothing, she returned to the corpse.

"He seems to be missing some mass in some of his organs, likely due to drug…use…" Sophie said, reaching out and hunting for her bone-saw, her hand locating and lifting it after a few seconds. "Atrophy is almost a certainty with some medication if it is used incorrectly-"

Sophie spun on her heels, lashing out with her makeshift weapon.

The hand seized her wrist, and the bone-saw clattered to the ground.

"Not bad, mortician. Not good enough, but you're getting there." Backlash said, releasing Sophie's wrist.

"Grah." Sophie murmured, turning off the microphone with a sigh. "What can I do for you tonight, or do you just want to startle me?"

"Something's brewing, but the usual scum don't have a clue."

"Then how do you know something is happening?"

"Just a feeling. Trust me on that." Backlash said, peering down at the corpse Sophie was working on. "Another one down. A few thousand to go."

"Don't forget, they're always some mother's son, some father's daughter." Sophie said.

"A nice assessment. Unfortunately, not worth much." Backlash said. "I need you to call in your bats. See if they've spotted anything."

"What, ALL of them?"

"It would be best."

"That's not like flicking a switch, Backlash. It takes time and effort."

"You will be compensated." Backlash said, as he placed a paper bag on a nearby table. Sophie looked with some distaste at it.

"Did you leave any of them alive?"

"Not all of them deserve…the most severe punishments."

"Do any of them?"

"Yes." Backlash said, fixing Sophie with eyes of ice. Despite herself, she trembled. She was probably the closest thing Backlash had to a friend, and considering how he treated her, it really didn't speak well for his enemies.

"…your teacher would be disappointed."

"My teacher can't do much of anything these days. They saw to that." Backlash said. "The bats, if you would please."

Sophie sighed and sat down. The process took nearly forty minutes, and Sophie felt like she'd run a marathon by the time it was over. Backlash stood there the whole time, occasionally drawing on the wall with a finger when she told him something.

"…so that's it?" Backlash said.

"Pretty much."

"…damn. Still nothing jumping out at me."

"I called in all the bats…!"

"This isn't you. This is just…careful planning." Backlash said. "…Chalice."

"Dr. Acqua?" Sophie said.

"I'd wager money. He's good at keeping it off the grid. And he's so arrogant about his intelligence that he'd probably try and pull something like this just for the sake of it getting under my skin." Backlash said. "However…he's not perfect."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Go see someone who knows well the weaknesses of the flesh." Backlash said. "Good day, Miss Mathews. Oh yes, how is your father doing?"

"How does anyone deal with the ennui of life?"

"I pass it out to others." Backlash said. Sophie turned around to raise a counter-point, only to find herself alone.

A moment later, a roofing tile crashed down to the ground. Sophie jumped a bit, and then looked up at the ceiling.

"I TOLD you to stop leaving through the air ducts!"

"Sorry." Came the muffled reply.


Part of me still doesn't understand why Dr. Chalice would dirty his hands the way something like this does. He could make far more money doing considerably less vile things.

Of course, I suspect this isn't about the money. I suspect it's about rankling me, as said. Once upon a time, I showed him mercy. He's hated me for it ever since, and it shows. Unfortunately, it doesn't get in the way of his intellect enough, like some people I've brought down.

It's not a mistake I plan to ever make again. This is a war. There's no place for mercy.

Some people would say that my mindset is wrong. It's not. I'm not facing other people who have been told roughly the same thing I have about why they're fighting, after being forcibly broken down and rebuilt mentally and fed propaganda to dehumanize the people I'm killing, to make it easier. I don't have to dehumanize these creatures, they have no humanity. They see people as prey, as food. The only thing they understand is violence. If violence is their sole language, then I will speak to them in it, and end all conversation.

Why can't they understand that?


"Jesus Christ. What a mess." Detective Jonathon Chesbro said, as the CSI unit tried to work around the paramedics, who were in turn trying to extract the shattered body of the thug that had attacked Marissa in the alleyway. Marissa herself was sitting in the ambulance, being examined by another paramedic for the slight head injury she'd suffered when she'd been slammed against the wall.

"You'll have a lump, miss, but besides that I think you'll be okay." The paramedic said, putting away his small flashlight.

"Then I want to talk to her." Detective Athena Jones said, gesturing the paramedic aside. "Miss Mori, is it?"

"Um, yeah." Marissa said.

"Tell me what happened. In your own words. Yes, it may seem obvious, but paperwork." Jones said. "Bleeping Backlash."

"…I was walking to the bus stop down the street and he pushed me into the alley. We fought briefly, I maced him and was running away when that guy came…"

"Backlash." Athena said, her tone cold.

"…yeah. He…did that."

"…bleeping nutcase." Athena said. "The vigilante. Did he make any threatening gestures to you?"

"No."

"Try to intimidate you?"

"Well, he was rude and insulting that I was walking alone in this area, but no, he didn't threaten or do anything."

"Pardon my partner. She doesn't like our resident 'hero'." Chesbro said, walking up to the ambulance.

"He's NUTS, John. He's been nuts ever since the Titans were killed."

"Yeah…the same deaths that brought all the deviants and opportunity seekers to our city. Which he's spent several years fighting."

"HE TURNED THAT GUY INTO A SACK OF MEAT! He probably won't walk or eat solid food for the rest of his life! There's a reason we have laws against excessive force, and he breaks them every damn time he steps out!"

"…and yet I still think the alternative is worse." Chesbro said. Jones growled low in her throat.

"We can't keep condoning his actions, John. Look at the means he already applies to get at his ends. It's just going to go downhill from there. It's already started, as far as I can tell."

"Well…I'm not the one you have to convince." Chesbro said. "Miss Mori, do you have any idea what your attacker planned to do?"

"Well…he had a knife…and wasn't interested in my purse. And he called me 'lovely'." Marissa said, and shuddered.

"…I know my job. I know what's right and wrong." Chesbro said, speaking far more to his partner than Marissa. "Tell me I'm wrong that I really don't care."

"When you start, it might be too late." Jones replied.

That was the last thing she said, as there was a sudden commotion on the outskirts of the crime scene. The detectives looked over, as did Marissa, who felt relief and a little apprehension at the same time. She'd been more right than she'd realized: her dad HAD shown up. That brought the relief, except he was now fighting to get past the police officers restraining him. Apparently they hadn't liked his entrance of 'just walk onto the crime scene without saying a word'.

"Your father?" Chesbro said.

"Yeah. Can't he come in?"

"Not if he tries to just march in like he owns the place and get in a fight with the people who are actually supposed to be here." Jones said, heading over.

"We'll try to keep him from being arrested." Chesbro said, also heading over.

Marissa watched the scene. Even if she had been more alert, she likely would have never seen the dark figure hanging off a rooftop. A few moments later, Backlash was gone, his observation complete. She'd been on his new route: no harm in taking a few seconds to make sure she'd done as said. With that done, he vanished without Marissa ever having a clue he was there.

Marissa Mori had, however, correctly guessed that her father would try to beat the crap out of the thug who'd tried to attack her. Despite there being virtually nothing to beat. He was that kind of guy.


Clad in a red silk bathrobe with black trim, Robert Candide strolled out of one of the several bedrooms in his penthouse apartment.

"Ah, another wonderful evening. Hi Charlene."

"Evening Rob." The woman in the bunny suit said, turning the page of the tome she was perusing. "Can you wait a minute? I'm just about done re-reading War and Peace. You pick up so much the sixth time!"

"Sure thing." Rob said, heading onward, whistling a happy tune. "Peggy, Yolanda. How's that probe you sent to Venus doing?"

"Oh, it's already melted. But it lasted three hours longer than we'd thought. We've got enough data to keep us busy for a year!" Peggy said, adjusting her unique lingerie as she spoke.

"Great! Betty, now…how goes the science stuff?"

"You forgot what we were doing again, didn't you?" Betty said.

"It's just so complicated…"

"What's so complicated about stable, cold nuclear fission?"

"Pretty much everything." Rob said. Betty giggled and poked Rob on the nose.

"Man oh man. Volunteering for that pheromone research experiment was the best thing I ever did." Rob said. "Maybe some men would be intimidated living in an apartment full of beautiful women smarter than they are, I just like to think of it as mixing education and pleasure. Life is good!"

The overhead window shattered, the black form falling through it and landing in a whirl of ebony capes. Strangely, Rob seemed somewhat unconcerned, although all the girls had bolted up, staring in alarm.

"Funny, I don't recall an appointment at…" Rob said, checking his pocket watch. "9:54."

"Ladies, leave." Backlash said, standing up.

"Ah, Backlash. Can I help you?" Rob said.

White lines flew out of Noel's hand, seizing Rob by his robe and yanking him forward into his grip, as the girls fled the room in a panic.

"I rather liked that window, you know." Rob said. A moment later Backlash slammed him against the nearest wall.

"DON'T start with your cute-playing, Candide. We had a deal, and you are not living up to your end of the bargain."

"Oh, that." Rob said. "…no, wait. I'm still honestly ignorant of your purpose here, so please state your paranoid ramblings in the form of a specific request for information."

Rob suddenly found his feet had moved several more inches off the ground.

"Something is happening, Candide. Whispers of the worst sort. You have told me NOTHING."

"Has it occurred to you I might just KNOW nothing then?"

"…do you know just why I'm expressing such intense displeasure here, Candide?" Backlash said.

"Because you think I'm a degenerate do-nothing?"

"No, if I thought that I would have tossed you in jail and seen what interesting things your pheromones do there."

"I hadn't realized that degenerate do-nothingness is a crime, but please, enlighten me."

Backlash did.

"Ah. That IS a good reason. Well then, I'll have my crack team have a go at it."

"No time. I suspect whatever is happening is happening now, but I can't pin down WHERE. My other sources are exhausted and you have a habit of coming into interesting information. Since you weren't passing ANYTHING along at all, even in terms of 'I have not heard anything interesting' I paid this house call to make sure you were actually doing your job instead of constantly fooling around. So if you don't want to require the usual provider of a house call, start talking." Backlash said, letting Rob down.

"How large do you think this operation is?"

"Small enough to keep themselves concealed, big enough to get me to wreck your property." Backlash said.

"Hm. That doesn't narrow it down much. Any idea where the shipments are coming or going?"

"No and no."

"I see why you needed some help." Rob said. "The obvious spot is by the docks, especially from Pier 30 down, since those are run down and the inspectors don't go there much. Tell me what you do know."

"Chalice is likely involved somehow."

"Okay, that helps. I had heard some rumors he was in town…let's step into my office." Rob said, walking into said office without waiting. He sat down on his computer and typed for a moment.

"Okay, the chief of police mentioned that Chalice was in town, and that some of his old associates were repeatedly seen at a part near Pier 41. Pull up the property maps for that area (I love you, Google Earth)…checking the ownership on them…Three of the warehouses are owned by Weyerhaeuser, though they're not in operation, one by a French shipping company and another one by a mister H. Randolf. Weyerhaeuser is a respectable company, but nobody's used those facilities for years. The French company maintains operations, so if I were Chalice I'd want to stay away from them, so that eliminates the next door neighbors. Which leaves one of the Weyerhaeusers and the Randolf." Rob said, printing off the map.

"…Candide, I KNOW this. It was the first thing I checked."

"Ah, but you don't have access to Chalice's BULWARK profile."

"Yes I do."

"You just think that." Rob said. "Remind me to thank my father for the security clearance. Chalice's known aliases are…Peter Stone…Boris N. Kerensky…and H Dot Rand."

Noel grabbed the computer monitor with a Shimmer line and spun it around, eyes narrowed.

"…he's too smart to be this obvious. What is he trying to pull?"

"Could be an old fashioned trap. Or maybe he figures you'll reject the obvious?"

"…you better be right about that." Backlash said, leaving. "Otherwise you will have worse problems then a broken window."

"Do you want my printout? And you have my cell phone number, right? I'll stay handy in case you…he's run off, hasn't he."

"He has." The voice in the shadows said, and then Cassandra Cain emerged, bedecked in her own dragon patterned robe.

"Why is he such an ass?"

"What happened to B…Batman affected so many. Combined with what befell the Titans, it is really not hard to understand." Cassandra said. "Are you…okay?"

"Nothing the usual treatment won't make better." Rob said, typing at his computer. "Shame Oracle passed away. Not a shame I managed to turn her operation into a profitable business. Speaking of which…" Rob said, and pressed a button. His computer screen filled up with a video monitor, before Power Girl, Wonder Girl, and Empress appeared on the screen.

"Good morning Birds of Prey."

"Good morning Rob!" The three chirped.

"How goes the prison break at Arkham?"

"Just fine sir." Wonder Girl said.

"Splendid. I look forward to seeing you all soon." Rob said, and turned off the monitor. "Shame the rest of them are all also on missions, Cassandra, but I suppose we will have to make do. Fortunately, you are the One who is All."

"Tee hee!" Cassandra giggled. Rob reached into his bathrobe and extracted a pipe, putting his feet up on his desk.

"Ahhh…it's good to be the King!"


I really hope Chalice hasn't manipulated me to the level that my visit with Candide had suggested. The area he laid out was one of my first suspicions, but I dismissed it as being too simple. Chalice may hate me, but he's still a genius. Surely he'd have something more complicated than that.

Unless he wanted me to outsmart myself. To get so focused on what he's pulling I miss the forest for the trees. I wouldn't put it past him.

This is why Bruce always needed a Robin, to help him with certain details he might have missed. I would have gladly been that Robin.

There won't be any more Robins.

Soon, there might not be any more superheroes. What Killjoy did started a chain reaction that had far greater repercussions that anyone expected. When the greatest man in the world falls to the flaws of man…

The worst part is, I care less and less as time goes on. I can't do anything. All I can do is protect my city. Or at the very least, make sure any human waste I find in it never comes back.

Maybe Bruce would have disapproved. Might have even stopped me, thrown me in jail.

But his ways and choices drove him mad. Maybe we're all mad now.

I'll do what I think is right.

Any fallout from that, is beyond my concern.

Somewhere in the United States.


The truck driver never knew what happened to his vehicle. He'd left it idling on the street while he went into the supermarket for the manager to sign something, and when he came back out a massive sinkhole had consumed it. When road and construction workers finally got around in their repairs to pulling the truck out, they found to their surprise that virtually all the food was gone.

Some time later, in a nearby national park, inside a large series of caves, Tara Markov sat and cooked herself her a Christmas dinner.

It was easier than one would think, cooking a Christmas dinner in a cave. It wasn't exactly building a miniature nuclear engine with a box of scraps, but when you could manipulate earth and stone, it wasn't too hard. The hardest part was maintaining the fires, but most other things could be make out of rock: pots, utensils, even ovens. If you spilled something, well, you just separated the dirt from the food, or just make the rock floor so clean that you could eat off it. Anything Tara couldn't improvise with her talent, she could steal. She'd become good at it.

Even so, she had vowed this would be the last Christmas she spent in a cave.

Her life had been hell. Waking up as a teenager with no memories, wandering the streets, sleeping in alleyways, eating out of garbage cans…and of course, whenever she found anything good, she rapidly lost it. That was the problem with having uncontrollable powers that could cause earthquakes: all it took was you getting upset and suddenly something hit the house harder than any wolf could huff or puff.

It was right around when a group of two hobos had tried to rape her and she'd beaten them to death with a rock that she realized she had stopped caring. After that, she'd devoted herself to learning her powers, no matter the collateral damage. One would think that the superhero world would have done something about it, but by the time Tara had begun her experiments it was in no shape to interfere. When all the world had gone to hell, one tended not to notice the details.

So Tara had learned. Once she had, she stopped letting the world take what it wanted from her and took what she wanted instead. Her original dream of finding a place to accept her had long disappeared from her mind. This world had no more kindness in it. Just eat, or be eaten.

That had been before Tara had stumbled into that superhero fracas. Been zapped by that alien ray. Woken up from medical treatment to find that, after years of darkness, she finally remembered when she came from, and why she was here.

This would be her last Christmas in a cave.

She was going to go back home.

And she was going to punish her country. She would show them just what a terrible mistake they had made. And once she was done, she'd move onto the world.

She'd eaten enough excrement in her life. All she had left was her desire to feed it to the world.

And so, as carefully constructed rock creations cooked her turkey and the rest of the Christmas dinner, Tara sat in her stolen clothes and blankets, and plotted for the day when she'd break the world.

It would be a hell of a time.


In the end, it was the remaining Weyerhaeuser warehouse that held what Backlash had sought. It was well guarded, with multiple men armed with various weapons, mostly heavy guns.

Normally, Backlash would have initiated a quick, rapid offense, taking each target down one at a time in order to prevent suspicion. Two things stopped him.

One was the massive man barking orders. Dressed in a deep purple and red suit that completely covered his body, said suit twitching like an animal, Backlash swiftly recognized who had been left in charge of the operation. He'd fought him once before, and circumstances at the time had prevented anything more than brief fisticuffs.

Not this time.

The other was that after careful scouting, both with his eyes and with the small floating cameras he'd cannibalized using Cyborg's tech, Noel had swiftly realized that Chalice was nowhere to be found. Backlash supposed there was a small chance he was there, just very well hidden, but he figured there was a greater chance that he was keeping himself hands off in this case. After all, if he was absent, than Backlash couldn't bring him in, and he could continue exploiting human misery for profit and to anger his enemy.

Noel really should have looked past this and gone by the book.

Instead, he just located where every single thug was, dropped down to the ground, and slammed his hands into it.

It was far from perfect, the way he fired the Shimmer into the ground and up around the thugs. Had he been able to pinpoint such an offense, he would have been able to disarm and disable all the thugs without them getting more than a few bruises. As it was, his massive eruption of thrashing, thrusting lines probably crippled several of Chalice's minions, some of them likely for life.

Noel didn't care. They were scum, and if they were working for Chalice on an operation like this, they deserved it. The rest were details he didn't want to or care to know.

"WHAT THE BLEEP!" The man in the alien tech suit yelled, watching as his minions were stepped on like the insects they were. The suit on his arm shifted, forming several blades that he slashed at one of the Shimmer protrusions, but it withdrew back into the ground before he could get it. The leader growled and spun around, his eyes scanning the darkness.

"All right, bleephead. Come on out, so I can rip you a few new ones." The man said. The fact that he got no immediate answer made him even angrier, and he slammed his arm against the massive packing crate he and his men had dragged into the warehouse. They'd taken it off a ship, and had been awaiting a truck when Noel made his presence felt. Noel had found the truck too. At least he was pretty sure it was the truck. If not, well…the drivers would recover from their broken bones.

The echo from the leader's blow rang through the warehouse, before silence descended back onto the location, occasionally interrupted by a groaning thug.

In a whirl of massive cloaks, Backlash dropped down from the ceiling, landing a dozen feet from the leader. Said leader did not seem impressed.

"About bleeping time." The leader said, crossing his arms,

"Matthew Prince." Backlash said.

"Bleep you. It's Jugular." Matthew Prince/Jugular said, jerking a thumb in his direction.

"No. Jugular was what the alien who once wore your suit's battle name translated to. You're just an imposter with a toy you barely understand."

"Oh yeah? Why don't I show you just how well my toy plays, bleephead." Jugular said, holding out an arm. The amorphous material shifted on the limb, claws hardening on his fingertips as several blades extended on his forearm. "I know just what your bleeping power doesn't like, and I've got it to spare. Not to mention I'm twenty times stronger and tougher than the toughest man on Earth."

"Right. How many times did Chalice have you read that so that you could memorize it?"

"Bleep you bleep hole. Let's go." Jugular said, his other hand becoming a large ball covered with pointed spikes.

"Jugular, do you have any idea how that costume works?"

"I know how well it's gonna bleep you up." Jugular said.

"It's a fluctuating gel-based protective system, capable of manifesting weapons, optimizing the wearer's abilities far above their limit, and, perhaps the most important detail, offering considerable protection via the utilization of its permutable mass to deflect and absorb offensive efforts of many sorts."

"…what?" Jugular said.

"Your suit isn't designed to complete negate impacts, it's designed to try and keep them away from you as best it can. Being alien technology, it's better than the average bullet proof vest." Backlash said. "But it's not metal or any other solid. It's a malleable material. Now, I'm guessing it could stop one or even a dozen normal bullets, provided they were all lucky enough to hit you…"

The Shimmer lines exploded from the ground behind Jugular, seizing him by the legs. Jugular yelled, looking down at the energy talent immobilizing him, Noel having made his speech to make sure Jugular didn't notice that he was sending his power through the floor via his feet. All idiots were the same: they assumed everyone else knew the same tricks they did and little else. Backlash had gambled that despite all of Jugular's costume being able to manifest weapons, he would have little idea how to do it on his legs.

In time anyway, as Noel produced the machine gun he had taken off one of the thugs.

"This has a 78 round clip of hollow points. And you can't move." Backlash said.

"NO!"

Backlash just opened fire, holding the gun out with one arm and Shimmer braces as he fired into the prone, unable to dodge or defend Jugular.

His alien armor actually held up better than Noel had guesstimated. It was, however, not a solid-based fortification, and hence when Noel stopped firing and withdrew his Shimmer strands Jugular collapsed to the ground, his body a mess of shattered bones and extensive hematomas.

"Augggggghhhhh…" Jugular groaned, as Backlash headed over. Shimmer lines lashed out, piercing into Jugular's armor and ripping out its power centers. They might not have had much time to interact the first time Backlash had met Matthew Prince, but that didn't matter considering Noel had more extensive experience with the first wearer of the armor.

"Do you know what you were transporting?" Backlash asked. Jugular just groaned.

Backlash grabbed his enemy, yanking him up and peeling his mask off with a Shimmer blade. Underneath the covering, Prince had boney, weak features, with a large nose, wide lips, and short, dark hair.

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU WERE DOING YOU IDIOT?!!"

"…huh?" Prince whimpered.

Backlash dragged him over to the cargo crate. One Shimmer lash tore off the lock.

Until he opened it, part of Noel hoped he had been wrong. That he'd been overestimating Chalice's capacity for cruelty.

As the light fell on the dirty faces and the ragged clothing of the children inside, Noel was reminded why he hated the world so much.

"…it's okay." Backlash said, holding up a hand. "You'll be all right. All right now."

The children didn't reply. Noel looked into the eyes of the nearest one, the glassy blank stare of a long-dead soul, devoured by human deviance so wretched Noel honestly wished he could throw all the people who suffered or reveled in it in an oven. It was the 21st century. Slavery should be dead. Child slavery should be abhorrent to the entire human race. Child sex slavery…

The world was going to hell. But if that was the case, Noel was going to hand out as much of his own hell as he could before it all burned.

Closing the door, Noel turned back towards Jugular, noting that one of his eyes was swelling shut. He'd still seen what he'd been hired to transport.

"…I…"

"Didn't know. Didn't care." Backlash figured, dropping Jugular with a thud and an agonized groan.

Jugular didn't stay still long. Noel started walking away, even as a Shimmer line seized Jugular by his ankle and dragged him along behind him

"What-argh, ow, are you AHHHH doing?!" Jugular cried. Backlash didn't answer, as he dragged Jugular out of the warehouse and to the nearby docks.

"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." Noel said, heading down to the water. "I am that reaction. I am the backlash to your crimes. And I do not suffer anything gladly."

"What are you doing! Hey! Hey!' Jugular yelled in panic as Noel yanked him up and turned him over. Jugular found himself looking at the ocean water, as dark as the night. "NO! NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! YOU CAN'T…!"

"Bleep you." Backlash said, seizing Prince by the hair. "Merry Christmas."

Despite his shattered body, Jugular managed a decent struggle as Noel shoved his face into the water. Noel ignored it, feeling the body thrash beneath his grip before it finally started fading.

With a quick yank, Noel pulled Jugular up, the Shimmer flowing into his lungs and expelling the water. Jugular started sucking in a desperate breath.

"You think we're done?" Noel said, and shoved Backlash back under the water. He waited ten seconds longer this time before yanking Jugular's limp form up. It took a little more effort the second time to clear his lungs and get him to start breathing again.

Jugular rasped air in, barely comprehending what was happening, before he heard the low whisper in his ear, a voice of icy venom and bottomless hate.

"Don't. Come. Back. Here."

Jugular didn't get to reply before Noel shoved his head back under the water.


"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING!?!?!" Mitch Mori yelled at the young man sitting in his window.

"Calm, Mitch, calm. You need to watch your blood pressure." Adam Matthews said, picking at the hem of the black jeans he wore with his white T-shirt and heavy winter trench coat.

"I do! You're the only one who raises it! Where were you?!"

Adam opened his mouth for a moment, before closing it again and looking at Marissa, who was sitting on a nearby couch.

"What time did this happen again?" Adam asked.

"About an hour and a half ago." Marissa replied.

"I was walking past Michelton and Kennedy, with a spring in my step and a new day on the horizon. Eight birds flew by in the night sky, and the temperature was about forty degrees Fahrenheit. I considered going into Denny's and getting a nice dinner." Adam said with absolute certainty, tilting his head and looking up at the ceiling as he stuck his lower lip out. "I think I was looking forward to the soup special. Or maybe it was chowder…"

"That doesn't excuse you Adam. If it hadn't been for Backlash, she could have been killed. Considering all the danger you drag her into, you would think you could at least be there when…ARGH!" Mitch snapped, before he popped a cigarette into his mouth and lit up. Adam turned away from the man, looking once more at his partner in 'crime'.

"This guy who attacked you, was he wearing welding gear?"

"What? No." Marissa said.

"Was he scarred all over the face?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Just confirming it wasn't one of my many enemies, whom have sworn upon their very souls to get back at me. Now, assuming he didn't have big glowing yellow eyes, an exposed brain, or was secretly a girl in disguise, then I can say with almost all certainty that there's no way this is my fault…wow, this is such a rare moment." Adam said, stifling a giggle. "Hear that, Marissa? And you said everything is my fault when we were facing certain death against laser-pointed energy spears."

"That WAS your fault. And Dad, I thought you tried to quit."

"I try to keep my weekly sessions with Dr. Sarda and drink a glass of milk every day too. Strangely, dealing with your friend does not send me running to the hospital or the fridge." Mitch said, drawing a few breaths before stubbing the cigarette out.

"Relax Mitch. Marissa's not made of glass." Adam said. "In fact, I'm not entirely sure who saves the other most often during our roadtrips. Like that one time when we encountered that Bear Cavalry. I honestly considered abandoning all hope, what with the snowstorm and the FREAKIN' BEAR CAVALRY, so when one of them managed to pin me down, I thought it was over. Then Marissa showed up, though I'm STILL not sure how she got out of that cabin I left her in, and attacked the thing with an AXE. Right into its open mouth! It was incredible! And now that I think about it, I bet that axe had something to do with her escape--" Adam said, before trailing off as he noticed Marissa's frantic gestures to stop.

"BEAR CAVALRY?!" Mitch yelled.

"…Oh, did he not know that?"

[Some time later.]

"You know Adam, considering how much you like having me around, it doesn't help that you not only tell my dad about the dangerous parts of what we do, but add in events like me hitting bears with axes! Which didn't happen!" Marissa said, her arms crossed and her breathing misting from the cold of the outdoors, the two having left the house to give Mitch Mori some space.

"It didn't?" Adam said, now sitting on the hood of his jeep. "Didn't think I was THAT delirious back then."

"It was a stick!"

"…well, that's kinda boring Marissa."

"Excuse me for not being a violent psychopath." Marissa said.

"Given that my experience with violent psychopaths usually has them raising me from the dead to use my body as a vessel for Trigon The Terrible, I guess I have no choice." Adam said, smirking in friendly teasing.

"Wait, how do I remind you of THAT?" Marissa said.

"Well, the look on your face right now sorta mirrors Psimon when he realized the 'powerful demon' the Titans fought and 'killed' was in fact a chaosling. Right before the explosions and the shrieks and the dimensional rending and the poof no more Trigon. Though…not quite right…" Adam said, reaching over and moving Marissa's mouth, cheeks and eyebrows around a bit. "And…yep. There it is. That IS a fun memory."

Marissa shoved Adam off his jeep, hmphing as he hit the ground.

"…so you're okay then?" Adam said, perfectly comfortable with lying on the asphalt.

"I've been fine, but thanks to your blabbing, I'm not allowed to go on any trips." Marissa said.

"He'll ease up. He likes making you happy too much not to." Adam said. "He'll be okay too."

"You told him I went after a bunch of bears with an axe."

"Yeah…….You should probably set him straight. And tell him about how I'm a filthy liar, and all we did was camp out and watch the snow fall. With hot chocolate. Everyone loves hot chocolate!"

"That'd be lying, Adam." Marissa said.

"…any chance to overlook your no-lying policy for the next 30 minutes?"

"No Adam. No lying. My dad had enough lying to deal with when all that stuff with my mom happened. Just tell him the truth that you were trying to find a cub to bring back as a pet and the mom chased you down." Marissa said. "And it was ONE bear. Cavalries ride on horseback."

Adam opened his mouth to speak, before a slightly bewildered look crossed his face.

"…wait, are you telling me the other bears and the dwarves riding on them were ALSO part of my delirious hallucinations? I really hate snow, with its interesting lies."

"It was below freezing and you were convinced you could heat yourself to deal with it anyway." Marissa said, rolling her eyes.

"..huh. Surprised I survived." Adam said, tilting his head again. "Okay, I'll talk to him. Though you should probably be there to make sure I don't stray to Wonderland again when talking about it. I'm beginning to suspect that there might be a slim chance those leprechauns I saw were, in fact, not actually there."

"Adam, just tell him what you are 100 percent sure won't make him angrier. Leave everything else OUT. I'd rather not be cooped up in my house all break if he goes back to being as paranoid as he used to be."

"I can DO it!…does this mean I should keep quiet about our other questionably-safe adventures? Like the time I took you to Shangri-lah?"

Marissa glared.

"My dad's gone through enough crap with that divorce and the city going to hell since the Titans died. Especially since he couldn't afford to move. You don't help by making him freak out whenever I'm out of sight. Cut it out."

"…maybe he'll like my golden kitty?" Adam said, forming a kitten out of gold mist. Despite his nodding smile, Marissa did not look very cheerful.

"Not right now."

Adam tilted his hand, the kitten vanishing.

"Sorry for, you know, all the therapy bills I've cost your dad since we met. Did he start going because of me?"

"What? No, that was a while back." Marissa said. "After the divorce. He thought I needed help after, but then he did it himself, too."

"He needed help?" Adam said, tilting his head again. "Did he say why?"

"Well, she just ditched us once the city went to crap. I doubt anyone would take that well. He kept going for a while after though. I think something else happened too."

"Man. That was years before you met me. That's humbling."

"Yeah. I don't know why he still goes though. We both got over mom leaving already, so it's not that."

"What is it then? Living with our resident Emo Boy? Mitch seemed like the kind that'd approve of him."

"I think my dad would probably invite him over for dinner, considering that he rammed the guy who attacked me through a brick wall. It's probably not stress from the city either: he likes it here, even with all the problems. I'd say it's probably family issues, but I've never met any of my relatives from his side of the family. He doesn't talk about them."

"Ha. Backlash as a dinner guest. That'll be something." Adam said, musing. "Met him a few times, you know. Like during the second Aberration mess, actually met him proper there. I don't think he liked me much. Got REALLY agitated when I asked him if he knew the Titans."

"Didn't they get killed by that hitman?" Marissa said.

"Yeah. But the way he froze up on certain topics, his outlook at the world, his 'style' that screams Bat-protégé (probably Bat's last, actually)…He knew them. That's what drives him."

"Revenge? Then why not go after the hitman? Kill-whatever."

"The legendary Killjoy? Who hasn't been seen since?" Adam said. "That's the thing about legends though, isn't it. If they disappear, that could just mean they went back into seclusion…or it could just mean they went somewhere else entirely."

"Yeah, well, it's not my concern. I'm just here to visit Dad." Marissa said.

"And have fun with me, right?" Adam said, giving big puppy-dog eyes.

"Not now, since my dad thinks I chased a bunch of bears with an AXE." Marissa said, giving Adam another glare. In an incredible moment, he actually looked properly scolded.

"…sorry about that. Don't worry, I-we'll talk to him. We'll figure it out. We always do, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. He's probably calmed down by now. We should head in, it's cold." Marissa said.

Adam smiled, hopping off the jeep and giving Marissa a one armed hug. "…Don't worry so much. I'm here. So I'll make you smile."

"Get off me. Last thing I need is a lecture because he thinks we're TOGETHER. We've had enough drama today, and I doubt Richard would be happy about you 'claiming' me either. "

"We ARE together! No matter what! Let the games begin! No matter what!" Adam sang. "As for that boy, never liked him. Too possessive. Sooo, about that trip to Atlantis…"


The wind had returned, whistling low across the ground and causing Noel's capes to flutter as he laid the flowers down on the grave. He did this nightly, always replacing the past night's flowers with fresh ones.

"…this is the way the world is now." Noel said, standing up and looking at the grave. Above him, the statue of the four Titans stood, overlooking where two of them were buried. Robin was buried back in Gotham, and Beast Boy was buried with his parents, but Cyborg and Starfire had been laid to rest here, as well as symbolic objects of Tim Drake and Gar Logan. Noel was sure they didn't mind.

"I'll keep fighting until I drop, or until it changes. And in this world, only the rules of Machiavelli apply." Noel said. "Maybe you would tell me I've turned from your path…but the path you walk doesn't exist any more. Without people like you…it all fell apart. The center couldn't hold. Without people like me now, this world has no future. Just a long slow demise."

Noel turned around, his hand clutching the flowers from yesterday.

"Hell, maybe you never belonged to begin with."

Noel walked away, pausing a moment to toss the flowers into the nearby deep, deep pit he'd carved out some distance from the graves. He never said anything to that chasm, and he never planned to.

That was where the garbage went. Not jail, not the insane asylum. The pit. It held the worst of the lost. The assassin who'd struck shortly after Noel had joined the team, while he was recovering from the injuries of his first encounter with the Troika. The lunatic killer who'd called himself the Lord of the Night. A fair number of HIVE members (at least that Flay guy had realized what a losing proposition being on the HIVE was and switched sides). The strange alien with the burning blood who'd crashed here one night and made the stupid mistake of attacking Backlash. Others; Noel's memory was beginning to fade on them all. They were all the same. Scum who would be forgotten and left to rot down there, their bodies slowly wasting away. Pieces of crap who would never again darken the door of his city.

He'd fill it a hundred times over if he had to. Eventually, he'd fix things.

Noel slipped into the hidden elevator beyond that, heading down into his secret base, deep below the ruins of the T-Tower, long abandoned and left to seed. Hiding in plain sight. Once he arrived, he spent a few minutes activating the defenses, before he stripped off his mask and cloaks and headed into his room.

"Evening Athos. Porthos." Noel said, the Shimmer reaching up and cleaning the black dye from his hair as he filled the food dishes of two tabby kittens. Said kittens seemed to be too interested in fighting with each other to eat. Such was often the case: they fought to play, and they played a lot. Noel peered under the bed to see another cat, this one full-grown and orange, dozing. "And Aramis. Sleep the sleep of the content."

With his cats fed, Noel briefly recorded the night's events, added a few notes on where to look for Chalice next, and then went to his nightly project.

Sometimes, Noel blamed himself for what had happened to Batman. Losing Tim to Killjoy had been bad enough, but then Noel had failed to live up to being a worthy successor. Having lost another Robin, who in the end may as well have been his soul, and unable to replace him this time, Bruce Wayne finally completed his decades-long process of going mad. The world had never recovered from what he'd unleashed.

It might never, at all. Certainly not the heroes. Noel got away with what he did because there was not much left to stop him. The bright ages were dead, gone, and never coming back, and most of the world accepted that he was the best they were going to get. Sometimes, Noel felt that it was all his fault.

Most of the time though, Noel knew where the real blame lay. Batman could never have handled the reality of the truth: the world was changing, and with Tim's death, it was informing him he was being left behind. Batman's decision on the grave of his parents had ultimately strangled him. Noel was determined not to let the same thing happen to him.

He knew who had killed his best, and only friends. The last sane thing Batman had done was capture him. In all the carnage that followed, Slade Wilson had tried to escape.

He had gravely underestimated just what he had done in murdering the Titans. Sometimes, Noel thought that Slade himself hadn't expected Killjoy to succeed. It was just another test that had gone horribly wrong.

Something Slade Wilson probably thought of every time the lights came on in his room. He looked up from the rack he was imprisoned on, his lone remaining eye glaring fiercely. It was pretty much the only movement he COULD make: the null field around him completely shut down his motor system's ability to transfer electrical impulses. Cyborg's notes had said he had hoped it would help with future prisons. Noel had found his own use for it.

"Hello Slade." Noel said, heading over to a table. "Recovered from that infection yet? I'm sure your system fought it off. Hell, as long as I keep pumping nutrients in you, you might outlive me. Though I doubt it."

Slade kept glaring. It was, as said, all he could do. Anything that was cut or burned off Slade grew back, in time. The medical treatments that had turned him into a super-soldier and king of mercenaries had had a greater effect than anyone had realized. It had also given him a healing factor that rendered Slade virtually immortal.

So Noel, who had tired of the screams produced by Slade's nightly punishment a long time ago, had carved out his vocal cords and replaced him with a plastic piece to prevent them from growing back. It made concentrating on his work easier.

"It's getting near Christmas." Noel said, looking at the various unpleasant tools laid out before him. "What should I get you this year? Hard to top last year's present of your daughter's head. Her own fault. I warned her."

Slade wanted to grit his teeth. He wanted to scream. He wanted to know how he had been brought so low by a half-mad vigilante who had been a Titan for about a minute before the Killjoy incident.

He'd be asking that question for many nights in the future.

"Tis better to give than to receive, after all." Noel said, selecting a barbed circular saw. "I'd also say peace on earth and good will towards men, but you deserve neither."

The saw started up, the whirring noise filling Slade's ears. He knew the blade was dulled. For extra 'effect'.

"Merry Christmas, Wilson." Backlash said, and sent the Shimmer out with the tool. Unlike the body, the Shimmer had no electricity in it for the field to cut off.

The field that made sure Slade's nervous system still worked enough to feel pain. Pain Noel would be repaying to Slade until his dying day, if he could.

To Slade and to the world. For what they'd done to his city.

"Men are more ready to repay an injury than a benefit." Noel said. "Because gratitude is a burden."

Blood sprayed on Noel's face, even from across the room. He did not bother wiping it off.

"And revenge a pleasure."


"…………………….next world. Just……………next world."

"I gathered."