Author's notes: Look around you, readers. At this big-ass chapter. Seriously, look at it hokey smokes.

Aaaaand title change! From Attack on Justice to Daylight, because of reasons that will make sense in the end. Attack on Justice sounds more like the title of a series, no?

Art by the always marvelous captain-raviolevi on Tumblr! ^_^

Warnings: GVD (gore, violence, death), some language.


8. WEIGHT


Information that can be disclosed at this time:

Atlantis District—still called Poseidonis District by some—has always been unique among the Walls' other districts for its high concentration of water, making Gotham District's four lakes and two rivers seem insignificant in comparison. Almost three quarters of Atlantis District's territory is underwater.

Three main rivers run through the capital city alone, as well as several underground creeks, and the belowground flow is often diverted to form manmade ponds and fountains. With this mastery over their territory's most abundant resource, the local inhabitants have been able to thrive, creating the most successful district outside of Wall Lois. The people do not attribute their fortune to luck, but to their own skill.

Atlanteans have a long, twisted history that goes back much further than the appearance of the Titans. Remnants of it remain to this day—a differing architecture style, portions of an old language, and the tradition of tattooing. The people of Atlantis are at turns refined and barbaric, showing proud dedication to the pursuit of arts and sciences, but more than vicious to those who do not fit into the mold of their society.


"I can't do this, Reyes. I can't do this anymore."

The trainee slipped out of thought, turning a vaguely quizzical look to Cameron Mahkent. The older trainee had rarely acknowledged Jaime Reyes in the past, except to stick something cold or slimy or both down the boy's shirt, so it was strange for him to be speaking so plainly with him now.

Deciding to get to the point, as was his wont, he stepped over to the man. Cameron Mahkent was sitting on the end of a bench with his head hanging. His hands had clenched into shaking fists on top of his knees.

"What happened, Cameron Mahkent?" he queried.

"They were eaten," Cameron Mahkent murmured. He sounded hollow. "Right in front of me. Tigress, Tommy, his gorgeous sister. And all I could think… all I could think was how glad I was that it wasn't me." Cameron Mahkent laughed, but his face immediately twisted into an expression of rage. "Is that all we're here for? To go fight the Titans, again and again, until there's none of us left? Screw that!"

It was unusual to see someone as cocky as Cameron Mahkent behaving in such a shaken way. Almost disturbing, but the trainee wasn't one to be easily disturbed. Cameron Mahkent's breathing had grown shallow and fast, his terror obvious.

"I can't do this, Reyes," Cameron Mahkent whispered again, desperation nearly choking out his words. "I won't."

The trainee's hand shot to his side, unsheathing the blade connected to his Maneuver Gear's handles. There was no doubt that he intended to kill himself. Jaime Reyes would not allow that. He moved forward quickly, grabbing the hand holding the exposed blade and punching Cameron Mahkent without hesitation.

The strike of knuckles against cheekbone was enough to knock the trainee back, and his blade clattered across the stone street. Cameron Mahkent massaged his sharp-edged jaw, staring up at his attacker in surprise.

"You're the other one," he realized. "La'gaan's beetle." The trainee smirked wryly. "Shoulda known the good ol' Reyes would disappear once the massacre started."

He stared down at Cameron Mahkent with disdain. "If you truly wish to kill yourself, Cameron Mahkent, then do so," he said coldly. "You will only be disproving the strength you spent three years cultivating, leaving your comrades to their fates, and turning your back on your goal to earn the respect of your father."

"I don't give a damn about him anymore," Cameron Mahkent answered quietly. For once, there was no anger when he spoke of his parent. Only weariness. He pulled himself back up to his feet, picking up his sword and sheathing it once again. "I don't give a damn about any of this. I'm leaving."

"You'll be executed for treason."

Cameron Mahkent chuckled without humor and walked away. The other trainee did nothing to stop him.


La'gaan set his empty water cup down, the battered tin clinking against worn stone. He laughed bitterly. "No wonder they gave the gag order," he said. "The other soldiers are so panicked right now, if they caught even a hint about what happened with that Blackjacket…"

"His name's Jaden," Jaime told him. "Or Jackson. Something like that?"

La'gaan shook his head dismissively, glancing over at the rest of the group. Conner, Kaldur, and M'gann were all sitting in the shadows of a nearby building, shielding themselves from the sun that had decided to show itself for a change. Jaime had returned a few minutes ago, and was now sitting on the edge of the table La'gaan stood next to. Except for the cries of fellow soldiers, it was quiet. And the quiet was stifling.

La'gaan still shuddered as he thought back to the mass of evaporating Titan corpses across his city, and Garfield's report that the kill count was somewhere around fifty. As far as the kid knew, it was simply a mysterious rogue Titan that had achieved that. He had no suspicions that there had been a human controlling it, much less a traitor to the monarchy.

Almost more alarming than the fact that it had actually happened, was the fact that the other two Blackjackets hadn't even been surprised when they learned their brother had killed that many. "It figures," the oldest had said.

La'gaan was jolted from his thoughts and turned sharply with the other four as a distinctive sound pounded against their eardrums: a cannon shot. But… only one? From inside the wall?

"Oh hell," Jaime whispered, sliding off the table and standing on stiff legs. "Hell, hell, hell…"

"Is that… a Titan's steam?" M'gann choked.

Conner's face paled. He fired out a single grapple hook from his Maneuver Gear and launched himself up. Kaldur and M'gann were right behind. "Hey!" La'gaan cried, but when Jaime passed him as well, he followed, joining them as they separated from the rest of the Garrison and raced across the rooftops.

They stopped. There was a cornered space, near Atlantis' floodgate, swathed in smoke and Titan steam. La'gaan's stomach turned. In the center of the cloud he could catch glimpses of a fleshless skull, dozens of times larger than any human's. It was moving, turning its head to the Captain of the Garrison. La'gaan wanted to cry out a warning, but the words stuck in his throat.


When Tim had woken up that morning, he had never expected to find himself by afternoon inside of a Titan—much less for protection. It was more than a little staggering. Tim pulled a cloth from one of his jacket's interior pockets and wiped the steam from his glasses. For some reason, he found his gaze caught by a cluster of flowers, bright blue. They had survived inside of the Titan as well? But how?

"We're…" Tim cleared his throat when his voice cracked, climbing several octaves. "We're inside of a huge skeleton."

"Jason protected us," Dick replied. He finally sheathed his blades, taking in their bizarre surroundings with some nervousness. "Really, really freakily, but that's all we need to know for now. What's more important is us figuring out how exactly we're going to get out of here alive."

They looked up as they heard a horrified yelp, and a loud, tumbling noise from behind the backbone. Tim and Dick fled out the back of the skeleton to Jason, who was already picking himself back up as he stared up at the partial monster he had constructed.

"I guess I really am a Titan, huh," he murmured. He must have seen the question on Dick's face, for he shook his head and continued: "Nah, bro, I don't understand what's going on here anymore than you do."

They fell silent for a moment, looking towards the edge of their cloud of combined smoke and steam. It would be gone within the next few minutes; they were running out of time fast. The Garrison would attack again before long, and Tim was fresh out of ideas.

"After showing them this, I doubt we'll be able to talk our way out," Jason muttered.

"And what, exactly, is this?" Dick asked. He gestured to Jason with one hand, and to the Titan with the other. "How'd you know how to do that?"

"I dunno. I can't remember." Jason started pacing, tugging at the tuft of hair he didn't yet know had turned white. "But I do remember one thing… the basement of my house. Dr. al Ghul said that if I go there, I'll learn everything." He shook his regrown arm, as though testing it again. "This is because of him, too. If I go to the basement, I'll probably find the truth behind the Titans."

Tim and Dick stared at their brother in shock. The answers had been in Jason's basement all along? He was frustrated, too, turning to pound a fist on a steadily deteriorating rib of his Titan form.

"Why would the old bastard hide that?!" he snarled. "It's information that thousands of Survey Corps soldiers have died for. Humanity's last hope! Why the hell would he keep something like that locked away in the basement of my house, for years? What was he thinking?"

"Jason." Jason flinched and looked over sharply as Dick put a hand on his shoulder. He seemed surprised that Dick wasn't afraid to touch him, even knowing what he knew. Tim wished he could boast the same bravery. "Priorities," Dick said firmly. "We've got to get out of here."

Tim stiffened. He could hear the soldiers calling to each other beyond the cloud—"The smoke is clearing, attack once you see them!"—and he pulled the straps of his glasses over the back of his head once again. He swallowed nervously.

"So, where are we going to go?" Tim asked. "And how?"

The three of them moved further back from the skeleton as it continued to evaporate and fall apart. Tim felt nervous having his back to that thing. He and Dick both noticed Jason's sluggish movement and made him sit down.

"For now, I don't care where we go," Jason said, grunting as he sat. "But I can make it over the wall and straight to the basement once I become a Titan again."

"Are you sure you can you do that?" Tim questioned.

"I already said I don't know how I do it, runt, pay attention," Jason snapped. He gave Tim an irritated look that, for once, Tim didn't reciprocate. "The point is that I think I still can. It's kinda like the way you can't explain how you move your own arm."

"Actually—"

"Jeez, runt, give it a rest!" After Jason had rolled his eyes sufficiently, his brows knitted together in thought. "Just now, my only goal was stopping that shell," he recalled. "So the body I made had no other purpose and fell apart when I was done." For some reason Jason grinned, and Tim had to resist the urge to shudder. "This time, I'll turn into something stronger. A 15-meter class sounds good."

"You're in no shape to make another Titan, Jason," Dick said flatly. His expression brooked no argument. "You're pale, having difficulty breathing, and your nose has been bleeding ever since you popped out of this Titan. Making another one to escape isn't an option for you."

Jason was about to argue, but he stopped when the blood dripped right across his parted lips. It looked thick, smudging across most of the side of his hand as he wiped it off. Tim chewed on his lip nervously. That dark color didn't look good.

"How I feel doesn't matter," Jason said stubbornly. "Look, I've come up with two options. First, if you don't try to protect me, you'll be able to get away quickly enough, and I can scale the wall to rendezvous with you guys later."

"Great, except for the part where you're too weak to create another Titan," Dick replied. His manner of speaking was unusually harsh, but Jason's stubbornness often called for that sort of treatment.

"I did say I came up with two strategies, wonder boy," Jason retorted, lifting a pair of fingers to emphasize. He hesitated, glancing over Tim's way before focusing on the cracked stone beneath him. "But, uh… you'll probably like this other one even less. There's a reason the Commander likes to leave the planning to you two."

"Get to the point, Jason," Dick said impatiently. Tim wondered why Jason kept glancing in his direction. Was it for affirmation? That didn't make any sense.

"The smartest thing to do at this point is to convince the Garrison that 1. I'm not a threat, and 2. that my ability or whatever it is can be used strategically," Jason explained. He pointed to the skeleton of his Titan form. Bones' structures had become compromised, and they were crashing to the ground. "Obviously, I can't talk to them after my wonderful display here."

"And I've already threatened to murder anyone who approaches us," Dick mused. "It'd be tricky."

Tim stood up. His hands were trembling at his sides. "I'll do it," he said. His brothers stared up at him in surprise, and Tim's chin tilted up slightly as he gathered his resolve. "They haven't seen anything from me yet. I'm the logical choice."

"Runt—"

"We have fifteen seconds before the next HE Projectile is fired," Tim said, cutting Jason off almost before he could start. Dick's eyebrows were steadily scaling up his face. "You two, avoid doing anything that would make them think you're a threat. Dick, take off your Maneuver Gear and sit next to Jason."

"Yes, sir," Dick murmured.

Tim couldn't take the time to bask in the pride in his older brother's gaze. He turned away and strode forward. Any moment now and the second round would be fired. Jason wouldn't be able to stop it in time, Dick would never leave any of them behind—it was all up to Tim.

The teenager unbuckled his Maneuver Gear, picking up his pace as the equipment crashed to the cobblestone. He could hear the soldiers cry out in alarm. Tim broke free of the gray cloud and skidded to a halt in the open, his arms raised in a nonthreatening gesture. He took in again the sight of humanity's blades and cannons, weapons made for Titans, turned on him and his brothers.

"So your brother has finally shown his true form!" Captain Orm called. It was clear that he was struggling for composure. His voice shook as much as his hands, and the hatred in his eyes was more terrifying than anything. "I'll do it now. I'll give the signal and finish that monster off."

"He's not an enemy of humanity!" Tim shouted back. He took a breath, telling himself that he had to remain calm. "We are prepared to share all the information we have, concerning both the Titans and our operations as the Blackjackets."

"I'm not interested in hearing you plead for your lives," Captain Orm sneered. "How can I believe you, after all? Your own brother has shown us all what he really is, and there is no indication that the rest of you aren't the same. You have no proof of your alliance with humanity."

"There's no need for proof!" Tim snapped. He stopped as he realized. There was the missing piece, the thing that he hadn't realized was bothering him until now. "The question isn't what we think of him, or what you think of us."

Captain Orm's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I'm told that many of you saw Jason when he was in Titan form," Tim said, turning as he spoke to the Garrison soldiers. They watched him warily. "Then you saw him fighting the Titans, and you saw when the Titans swarmed him! That means the Titans consider him food, the same way they think of us. That is the truth, no matter what we may think or believe."

Tim could see that he had gotten through. The soldiers exchanged befuddled looks, and some even seemed hopeful. Murmurs spread, wondering at the possibility of a Titan as an ally. "If we could control a Titan…"

Tim almost relaxed. But then he was pulled in by Captain Orm's blue eyes, and knew that he hadn't gotten through at all. Orm didn't want anyone to listen to reason, and it had nothing to do with his own fear. Tim had, yet again, failed.

"Prepare to attack!" the captain commanded. His troops snapped to attention, their dawning understanding replaced with vicious distrust. "Don't be fooled by their lies, men! The Titans' actions have always been beyond our understanding. It's possible they could pretend to be human, speak human languages, and try to deceive us. We can't let them get away with anything else, can we?"

Tim turned to look back, feeling panic squeeze his throat closed. Jason was watching the soldiers, waiting for the moment to move. Dick met Tim's gaze and nodded. He still seemed so proud, even though Tim's mistake was going to kill them.

The teen's jaw clenched. He was going to do this. Dick, Jason, both of their lives were in his hands. He couldn't afford to fail. Tim spun back around, swinging his arms up and locking them in the salute of humanity's soldiers.

"I AM A SOLDIER!" he bellowed, shocking the troops into taking several steps back. "As a Blackjacket, I do not fight among the same ranks as you, but I have taken the same oaths. I swore long ago to dedicate my life to the revival of humanity, to the cause of justice, and if that pursuit were to cost me my life, I would be glad!"

He couldn't see his brothers. He couldn't see Dick's glowing pride, Jason's hushed awe. Instead, he kept shouting, taking not a moment for breath as he strove to persuade the Garrison.

"If we use Jason's Titan powers and the forces we still have, we could take back this town!" he insisted. Was he getting louder? It was impossible to tell over his heart drumming in his ears. "With my final breath, before dying by my fellow man's hands, I shall wish for humanity's freedom, and try to convince you of his strategic value!"

He had nothing left to say. Tim remained in his salute, eyes tightly closed as he tried not to shake. This. Had. To work.

Captain Orm chuckled. "A compelling argument, traitor," he purred. "But I've already made up my mind."

Tim didn't move. He knew that Captain Orm would be lifting his arm again, to give the signal for the last time. This was it.

"Enough."

The one who spoke was calm and gruff in tones, and more than slightly condescending. "Even with as much experience as you have, Captain Orm, you still haven't learned to think things through."

"C… Commander Wayne!"

Don't you dare smile, Tim told himself. He opened his eyes slowly, taking in the familiar black military cut, cold blue eyes and chiseled jaw. Bruce Wayne, High Commander of Atlantis' Garrison troops, and the unknown Commander of the Blackjackets. Don't you dare smile, Tim, you're not out of the woods yet.

Commander Wayne glanced over at Tim without a flicker of recognition. "He has a good salute," he remarked, as though he weren't the one who taught it. The soldier turned to Captain Orm, giving him a withering look. "I've just arrived, but messengers have been keeping me informed on the situation. You go command the reinforcements, Captain. I'll hear what these Blackjackets have to say to us."

Tim couldn't hold his breath anymore. He also couldn't stand. He dropped to his knees, heaving a sigh of relief. Dick and Jason gripped both of his shoulders, silently communicating that he had done good. Commander Wayne looked over the three of them coldly and ordered them to follow him.


Dick had read that it was once assumed that a Titan attack would come from the south. After the destruction of Gotham District to the east, they discovered too late that they had been wrong. Now the easternmost district of Wall Iris, Atlantis, had been breached by the Titans as well—not just under the Garrison's watch, but his and the rest of the Blackjackets as well.

Bruce Wayne had been placed as High Commander over all of the eastern territories, including Atlantis. He had absolute authority over the defense of what had become humanity's most important region. He was also the man responsible for the existence of the monarchy's biggest thorn in the side. Not that anybody else knew that.

The four of them—Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim—were all on top of the Wall now, separtated from all other members of the Garrison. It was a perfect time for them to speak with each other in private, so long as their body language gave no indication of familiarity. Dick wasn't worried; he had been in the performance business since childhood. Tim looked too tense to be anything but stiff with the Commander. Jason seemed exhausted, but Dick was certain they could compensate for him.

"I see," Bruce murmured, staring thoughtfully over Atlantis. Even from where they were, they could clearly see the Titans roaming through the city. Bruce had his canteen with him today; his back had to be acting up again. "And if we reach this basement, we'll understand everything?"

Jason didn't reply. In fact, he hadn't said a word since Bruce had arrived—more than slightly unusual for the mouthy teenager. Once Bruce had decided they had gone far enough along the wall, Jason had sat down and set his hands on his knees, probably still recuperating from all the energy he had spent. So, all the explaining had been left to Dick. He decided to give Tim a break after leaving their lives to his ability to talk.

"Do you believe us?" the older Blackjacket asked. He kept shifting his weight from toe to toe, his shoulders adjusting. There wasn't much faking that had to be done to make it seem like he was uncomfortable—Dick hadn't performed in a space this open since That Day.

"So long as you lack certainty, I can't promise anything more than that I'll keep it in mind," Bruce answered bluntly. While the man was harsh, Dick had come to appreciate his honesty with them. It was a rare trait for the soldier to display. "All I can do at this point is ensure your safety until you find a way to escape."

"Thank you, Bruce," Dick said quietly. He decided to leave figuring out how their escape was going to work for another time. Likely it was going to end up being another skin-of-the-teeth sort of thing. The timing would be crucial.

Bruce nodded in acknowledgment of his protégé's gratitude and turned, fixing his steely blue eyes on Tim. The teenager automatically straightened up (as if he wasn't tense enough already), tilting his chin slightly as he met the Commander's eyes.

"Back there, you said that we could use Jason's Titan powers to reclaim this city," Bruce said. His eyes narrowed, expression even more stern than usual. "Did you really think so, or were you just trying to save your own skins?"

"Both, sir," Tim admitted. His hesitated, dark eyebrows drawing together as he thought. "Have you noticed the boulder that was knocked out by the Colossal Titan's kick? I was thinking was that Jason could become a Titan, then use the creature's strength to move that boulder and reseal the gate. But with so much about his ability, and our own situation, still unknown…"

"You're reluctant to act," Bruce finished. He looked over at Jason, who still hadn't uttered a sound. The teen had been staring at the same point on the western horizon for more than five minutes now. "However, reluctance will only cost more lives at this point. We have to act regardless of certainty."

Dick's jaw clenched, but he did nothing to stop Bruce as the Commander strode across the wall to Jason and pulled him up to his feet. He ordered the boy to follow, and Jason obeyed without a word.

Tim shook his head. "I should've kept my mouth shut," he muttered.

Dick put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. Prompting a smile didn't seem to work, but he hoped that Tim understood that he had his support. "Nothing we can do about it now," he said. "Here come Commander Wayne's strategists."


"A plan to retake Atlantis?" La'gaan laughed incredulously, looking down at the water in his tin cup and thinking he definitely needed something stronger. "You're kidding."

"It's true, La'gaan," Bart insisted. His fingers twisted nervously.

"We have no way to seal that hole," La'gaan said harshly. He blinked as he realized that he might be wrong. That Titan the Blackjacket could turn into…

"Noted," Garfield said, "but word is that there's a plan nonetheless. Commander Wayne should be talking soon."

"I'd like to know what the brass is thinking," Bart murmured. He had pulled his hands apart, and now they were shaking at his sides. "Going back into Atlantis would only mean our deaths, and after we worked so hard to get out the last time… do they want glory that much?"

"Yes," Conner said bluntly. La'gaan was almost surprised to hear him speak. Ever since witnessing Jason's partial transformation to stop the HE Projectile, neither he, M'gaan nor Kaldur, had uttered a sound. "It's just like six years ago. The monarchy really is willing to throw away that much life for the sake of their own glory."

"Commander Wayne's different," Jaime said suddenly. "He's a scary guy, but he knows how to do the right thing."

"Pray to your god that you're right, Blue," La'gaan muttered.


Exhaustion. Jason thought he had experienced it before, but this was the real deal, set deep into bones and dragging his body and mind down into heavy depths. Walking was a struggle he somehow managed, but thinking? That was out of the question.

He blinked slowly at something that was waving in front of his eyes. Slightly tanned, a central mass with five extensions. Hand…?

"Jason? Hey, Jason!"

The formation of the hand changed, and Jason flinched back with a squeak as a sharp-nailed finger struck his nose. The world seemed to resolve itself; his brother's irritated expressions, the solid wall beneath his feet, and the scattered clouds turning golden with the coming sunset. He must have been supplied with a new uniform, because his other foot was no longer bare.

"Jason, did you hear anything we just said?" Dick was eying Jason with a look that couldn't quite be identified. It could have been concern, but it also could have been a great deal of vexation. Most likely vexation.

"Sure I did," Jason replied. He hesitated, scratching at his head. "Uh, when exactly did we get up here?"

Tim looked like he was about to throw his arms in the air and walk away. Dick frowned. "Then you have no recollection of Tim's plan to retake Atlantis District, Commander Wayne's rousing and frankly horrifying speech to rally the Garrison troops back under his command, and the fact that we are currently pretending to have been a secret military squad this entire time?"

"None whatsoever," Jason answered promptly. He blinked, lifting a hand. "Hold up, you said that the runt has a plan to retake Atlantis?"

"Thank you for your clear display of confidence," Tim said dryly. Jason cocked an eyebrow. The kid was acting more sharply than usual. "While you went with Commander Wayne to speak with the troops, Dick and I were working with his strategists. That Katherine Kane woman really doesn't like us, by the way, so you'll want to keep your distance."

This was nothing new to Jason. "What's this plan of yours, runt?"

He expected Tim to mess with his glasses' straps. He didn't. "The plan is for you to turn into a Titan again and carry the boulder knocked out by the Colossal Titan back to the wall, where you will use it to reseal the gate."

"Great plan there, runt," Jason said, giving his younger brother an unimpressed look. "What about the other—"

"Titans," Tim finished. "That's already been taken into account. Titans are typically drawn to pursue large groups of people. We're going to use that tendency to lure them along the wall, and in so doing keep them off your back without engaging them in combat. Using the canons on top of the walls will further minimize our own losses.

"As for you, Jason, we can't leave you undefended. An elite force, including Dick and whoever Commander Wayne selects from his own troops, will be accompanying you—a small force, to avoid attracting too many Titans. Their skill is going to be critical."

Okay. Now Jason was impressed. "You've really thought this through," he remarked.

"As much as I've been able to," Tim answered curtly. The look he gave Jason was almost accusing. "But the entire thing hinges on you, and the ability that none of us know anything about. This entire plan is based on assumptions, yet the Commander has still chosen to run with it."

"Sometimes I wonder if the old man is slipping," Jason muttered. Seeing the offended looks on his siblings' faces, he realized he had spoken too loud. "But there's no point in doubting him, of course! We all know he sees potential in stuff that the rest of us don't. And…" Jason hesitated, his mouth twisting unpleasantly. "And there's a bigger issue to be addressed before the runt's plan can be executed. Wayne's gotta recognize it, too."

"What do you mean?" Tim asked. Dick already understood, going from the surprised look spreading across his face. It wasn't like Jason to concede a point.

"What you've been saying all along, Tim," Jason said grimly. "The Titans aren't our biggest enemy."

Tim's eyes widened. This was a point he and Jason had argued over for years, nearly to the point of blows. For Jason to admit now that the younger teen was right was more than significant, and Jason was glad he could see it. It would be awkward, having to explain himself further.

Commander Wayne returned, not only with his strategists but three soldiers more—the leaders of the elite squads. Jason barely caught the smiles exchanged between Dick and Barbara before his attention was pulled in by the trio standing behind the Commander and his strategists.

Even Jason knew who these people were: Hal Jordan, a man with dedication to justice and the law that the Commander greatly admired; J'onn J'onzz, one of the few surviving Martians of Wall Cassandra, and a Garrison veteran of nearly twenty years; and Orin, a man whom Jason had caught a glimpse of before. He had been so occupied with the inevitable-death scenario set out by Captain Orm, he hadn't realized a respectful elite was nearby.

Commander Wayne was a grim-faced man by nature, but now he was even more so. "Blackjackets, these are the leaders of the squads accompanying you," he said, gesturing to the three soldiers who were now stepping forward. "Captain Orin is leading the operation. Act quickly—Titans are still entering Atlantis, and the longer we wait, the worse our odds of success become."

"And the higher chance of Wall Iris falling," Captain Orin added. He strode forward, the other two squad leaders staying at either side. "You can depend on us, Commander. This mission shall be a success, no matter the cost."

"It is no exaggeration to say that humanity's fate rest on your shoulders," Wayne said solemnly. "When this mission succeeds, humanity will have retaken territory from the Titans for the first time in history. This is a city we cannot afford to lose."

Soldiers and Blackjackets agreed in silence. Commander Wayne left to do whatever it was that proper Garrison Commanders did (Jason had more experience with the furtive, leader-of-a-band-of-traitors type), and now it was only the Blackjackets and the elites.

"Prepare your Maneuver Gear," Captain Orin told them. "We have no time to waste, Blackjackets."


Dick left his brothers a little further behind as he caught up with Captain Orin. The Atlantean's stride was loose and easy—clearly it took no effort for him outpace others. He seemed surprised that Dick had managed to catch up, and pulled back his pace a little to accommodate the younger man.

"Your wife's name," said Dick, "it's Mera, right?"

Captain Orin's eyes widened in astonishment, and his step faltered for the briefest moment. "You know her?"

Dick nodded. "I was over by the gate, helping with the civilian evacuation," he explained. "They both got out safely, Mera and your son.

Captain Orin's face sagged with relief. The Atlantean blinked rapidly for a moment, turning his gaze ahead, and managed to murmur a quiet thank you.

Small squads had come up alongside the group; the elites under Captain Orin's, Jordan's, and J'onzz's command. Dick picked up his pace again, intending to continue his conversation with Captain Orin, but Jason's exclamation brought his attention instead.

"What do you know about our Commander?!"

Dick turned sharply. Jason and Tim were staring at Hal Jordan with mirroring expressions of horror. Tim in particular seemed shaken.

Jordan smirked, his brown eyes cold. "Do you want the short list or the long?"

"Enough," Captain Orin said sharply. "We've almost reached the shortest route to the boulder." The Atlantean's gaze swept over the area as he continued to run. "I'm not seeing any Titans. The plan to lure them away must have worked."

"Nice job, runt," Jason grinned, punching Tim's shoulder. The older Blackjacket stumbled, and Dick's eyes narrowed. His sibling was not looking good. His skin seemed pallid, slick with sweat even though he had barely exerted himself so far. Was this plan really such a wise choice?

"Let's go," Tim said, glancing nervously over at Jordan. Dick wondered what else the soldier had said to them. The teen sprinted forward, passing Dick and jumping off the wall with Captain Orin. The rest of the squads, and Dick and Jason, came seconds afterward. Jordan paused to fire a green smoke round to signal the operation's beginning to the rest of the Garrison.

The elite force descended into the invaded district, and Dick stayed close to his brothers as they swung between buildings and other obstructions at more than breakneck speed. They each locked eyes for a second, exchanging nods. They could do this.

The elite squads had spread out on the roofs. Dick and Tim pulled back, and Jason dropped straight down towards the boulder. The moment his teeth snapped through his hand, the entire area exploded in violent shades of yellow and green. Dick stared in astonishment at the roaring, 15-meter monster that seemed to construct itself from the steam. He knew that his brother was in there, but still… it was unbelievable.

"Jason," Tim whispered. Dick couldn't even manage words.

The Titan, Jason, slowly turned and fixed a pair of glowing green eyes on Dick. What was he doing, just standing there like that? There was a job to be done. Dick's eyebrows scaled up, and he began to back away as he realized that there was no recognition in the Titan's gaze.

"Jason?"

The Titan raised a fist. Then it stopped, shaking its head as it growled, and repositioned its hand to offer a sloppy salute. Dick never thought he would live to see the day a Titan winked at him. Jason turned, steering his new form to the boulder.

"Captain Orin!" A soldier on an adjacent roof ran closer as she called. "Two Titans approaching from the east—a 10-meter class and a 6-meter class. Arthur has spotted a 12-meter class coming from the rear!"

"Jordan, your squad will handle the 12-meter class Titan," Captain Orin ordered. Jordan nodded and barked commands to his squad as he launched off of the roof. "J'onn, your squad and mine shall take the two in the front."

"What about us?" Tim asked.

Captain Orin looked over his shoulder at the pair of teenagers. "You're Blackjackets," he replied simply. "You know your own strengths better than I do. Do as you like—that will be the most efficient use of your abilities."

"Yes, sir," Dick said, giving the captain a nod. He was surprised that the Atlantean had granted them autonomy, but grateful. As the man had said, he was unaware of the Blackjackets' strengths. He turned to his brother. "Tim, you and I are to establish a close perimeter around Jason. No Titan can come within fifteen meters of him, understand?"

Tim nodded. Dick turned to Jason, who was in position to lift the boulder. "Jason, you got that?"

The Titan threw them a nod. At least he wasn't throwing anything else. Dick looked over as he noticed the tremor in Tim's hands.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked.

"First op," Tim murmured. He managed a faint smile. "I'll manage."

Dick returned a smile just as weak, reaching out to place a hand on Tim's shoulder. "Heck of a way to get your feet wet, huh?"

Tim nodded. His eyes stretched wide in open awe as Jason's Titan roared and lifted the boulder up over its shoulders and took the first step. Tim's first op was really in motion now.


"So." Garfield twisted the cap of another gas canister closed with some ferocity. Bart flinched at the metallic squeak. "We're just going to sit here until further notice."

Bart sighed, sprawling out his legs and massaging the sore muscles. He'd pushed himself harder in the past few hours than he had over the entire course of his military training. "Seems that way, Gar."

"We'll be okay," Jaime murmured. He was sitting down, too, his fingers tracing barely visible grooves in the wall's white stone. "If those Blackjackets can survive on their own beyond the Walls, with no backup, then they can do this. We can count on that."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Blue," La'gaan replied. He was the only one of the group who wasn't actually sitting on anything—even M'gann was, on the backside of Garfield's bench as she remained silent. "From the boulder to the gate… that isn't a short walk. And more Titans are coming in all the time. Even with that freakish Titan we've got now, we don't have much of a chance."

This seemed to anger Garfield. "Then anyone who doesn't make it now will have died for nothing?!" he demanded. His fist pounded against the bench and M'gann flinched, looking away from all of them.

"Most likely," La'gaan answered. He scowled. "Neptune's Beard, Gar, quit looking at me that way! I'm only being realistic. Any fight with the Titans is going to be a war of attrition. It's loss and loss again, and yeah, sometimes it'll be for nothing. But there's no way around it."

Garfield's lips twisted into a bitter semblance of his usual smile. He stood, turning his back to La'gaan as he took several steps away from his comrades. His fists were clenched at his sides, freckled knuckles turning white.

"Noted," the boy said, his tones biting. La'gaan cringed.

Jaime had stood up as well. He stepped towards Garfield, probably with the intent of calming him down, but La'gaan found his attention drawn to M'gann, who still hadn't moved and still hadn't spoken. What had been happening since the afternoon's beginning was shaking her up even worse than the rest of them.

The trainees all turned as a squad leader barked their names. It was time to take new measures in the plans.


It was so hot in here. Jason felt like he was suffocating, yet he could also feel oxygen getting pulled in through a second set of nostrils that were larger than his own. It was more than a little freaky to be aware of two bodies at the same time.

Ehhh. Jason could feel his teeth gritting—whether his or the Titan's, he couldn't tell. The weight of the boulder, supported by his head and shoulder, felt like it was going to crush him. Jason knew it was only going to grow worse with each step he took, and each step would have to be careful and precise. Losing his balance would mean his death.

Broad edges of his vision had turned to a blurred red. His body burned; the Titan's regenerative abilities struggling against the boulder tearing its muscle apart. The fingers digging into their separate holds shook with effort.

Occasionally he caught glimpses of Dick and Tim, and the Garrison's elite squads. Jason nearly missed a step as he remembered Hal Jordan, staring at him with hard brown eyes.

"My friends are going to die today for you."

The soldier had a skill for stunning people, Jason had to give him that. From Hal Jordan's file, he was described as a man with great fighting capabilities and a lackadaisical manner. The man who had spoken to Jason on top of the wall hadn't seemed very lackadaisical.

"As soldiers, we're prepared to die, of course," Jordan had said. "But none of us are pawns without a voice, Jason. We have names and families, and all the feelings that those entail. Don't make us less than we are—your Commander is already far too prone to that."

Your Commander. Jason had never gotten the chance to ask how Jordan knew about Commander Wayne's secret team. He wondered what else the soldier knew—what all of these elites knew. Why had Wayne made it seem that the Blackjacket operation was a secret when he was telling so many others?

There was no time to worry about it. Jason had nearly missed his step three times now; he had to stay focused. Still, he could his mind begin to reel as his muscles burned, realizing what a monumental task was rising up before him. This wasn't what he had signed up for at all.

But he never really had a choice.


A member of Orin's squad, Arthur, had been grabbed by a Titan. He screamed and kicked frantically, trying to escape the fist he was trapped in as he was lifted up to the gaping maw, but then the Titan went stiff and then lax, its fingers falling open as it collapsed against the building. Arthur looked up at the dark-haired boy who landed beside him, sheathing a blade to help pull the Atlantean up to his feet.

"You okay?" Tim asked.

"Y-yes," Arthur stammered. He blinked at the black uniform jacket the boy was wearing. "Wait, you're a…"

"Blackjacket Tim Drake," Tim replied. The blue eyes looking up at Arthur seemed unnaturally cold, as though the humanity in them had been purposefully removed. Then they softened. "Work with your team more, Arthur. They'll watch your back."

"Tim! I've got two within the perimeter!"

The Blackjacket sped away, reeling himself up to the higher rooftops from where his senior was calling. Dick indicated the pair of Titans that were now within ten meters of Jason, 4- and 9-meter classes. "I'll take the 4-meter," Dick said. "Those little guys are fast."

The brothers split up, Dick taking the 4-meter on the left and Tim going after the 9-meter on the right. Fortunately, it was a straightforward kill this time. Tim didn't want a repeat of what had happened in the HQ basement, not under any circumstance.

Dick and Tim landed on rooftops again, running on either side of Jason. Steam was venting from the Titan's body at an alarming rate—the weight of the boulder was pushing the 15-meter form to its utmost. Tim hoped things wouldn't be taken too far. Jason wasn't good at restraining himself, and often overextended his own limits.

Tim let the Titan move further ahead for a little while, then swung behind him to meet Dick on the other rooftop. "Those two Titans that got through," he said. "We're still early on in the mission. Them showing up now is a bad sign."

"There's only us and three squads," Dick replied. He kept his pace steady, watching Jason move onward. "It's only natural for there to be those that slip through. That's why we're here."

"We're going to get these people killed, aren't we."

Dick wouldn't meet Tim's eyes, keeping his gaze fixed ahead as he continued to run. Tim was starting to have difficulty keeping pace with his longer stride. "It's necessary."


"Listen up." One of the Garrison's squad leaders had gathered roughly a dozen 104th trainees to lead down into Atlantis District, and now they were all hiding in an alleyway too narrow for a Titan to make it into. It was also too narrow to use Maneuver Gear. La'gaan wished he had bothered to learn the name of this guy.

"You just need to keep the Titans in the corner of the city," the squad leader told them. "Stay focused on that and draw them there; do not engage. Got it? Trainees, form groups of three and run along the ground. When you reach the wall, jump up. Don't get killed. If any Titans break away, we'll take care of them."

La'gaan thought it was more of a when than an if, but he decided not to say so. He looked over as M'gann spoke up.

"Sir, if we think we're in danger, can we deviate from our orders?"

"If you believe it can help," the older soldier replied. He looked up and over at the sound of loud crashing, and two thick pillars of debris and Titan steam rose up in the air. "Gamma Squad, go!"

"Sir!" La'gaan took the lead he had somehow been given, with Garfield and M'gann flanking him a short ways behind. Normally he'd be worried about having the kid on his squad, but when M'gann and Garfield worked together, the results were extraordinary. It was surprising that they didn't work together more often, though it certainly wasn't for Garfield's lack of trying.

It took about ten minutes for their squad leader to get eaten. La'gaan couldn't look away. Garfield's face was pale, but his hands didn't shake. He was getting stronger. La'gaan envied him.

M'gann was the one to pull them back into the present, brushing fingers over the back of Garfield's shoulder and glancing La'gaan's way. "Looks like we have to deviate from the plan, like it or not," she said.

"Split up," La'gaan ordered. "We'll meet up on the third western point of the wall."

M'gann and Garfield called affirmatives before separating. They had spent enough time roaming through Atlantis during training breaks to know the city. And La'gaan had grown up here, familiarizing himself with every nook and cranny so he could never be caught by any Purist again. He couldn't help but know this city, and that's why he was so desperate to get away from it.

To his left, he could see M'gann had scaled up to the roofs safely. To his right and further ahead, Garfield had just fired his first hook. Its angle caused it to bounce off the wall, clattering uselessly to the street. Garfield reeled his cable back in and ran, trying to fire it off again, but in just another moment he would run out of space.

La'gaan heard M'gann scream her little brother's name, and knew that soon she'd charge down here and die alongside her brother. He couldn't allow that to happen. No one else was going to die because of his decisions today.

La'gaan sprinted across the street, grabbing Garfield from behind and using his Maneuver Gear to pull them both up to the rooftops. They tumbled across the tiles, La'gaan's Gear taking the brunt of the battering. The Atlantean managed to sit up and look over at Garfield, who hadn't moved so far.

"Minnow? You okay?"

Garfield offered a shaky thumbs-up before pushing himself off of his own face. La'gaan rolled up to his feet and helped pull the younger teenager up as well. Garfield leaned as he looked behind La'gaan, and his eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, crap."

A Titan was standing at the far end of the street below. And it was clearly sizing up for a jump.

"Deviant," La'gaan whispered. He immediately pushed Garfield into a run, his urgency climbing. "Go, go! I'll draw it away!"

"La'gaan, are you sure you can handle—"

"Go, Garfield! I'll be fine!" Garfield jumped off the roof to make his escape, and La'gaan lurched as the Titan slammed onto the roof. It smiled wide. La'gaan's teeth bared in a snarl as he looked up at blue eyes and blond hair that reminded him an awful lot of Ronal.

"Not today, chum," he growled, and broke into a run. "Not today!"

He reached the edge of the rooftop before the Deviant had a chance to move, heading in a direction different from the ones M'gann and Garfield had taken, and jumped. His fingers curled down on the levers within his swords' handles, taking comfort in the familiar clicks.

But all they did was click. There was no launched grapple hook, no reeling cable. La'gaan's eyes widened in horror as he realized that the tumble across the roof had damaged his Maneuver Gear, and now it was malfunctioning.

The Atlantean plummeted to the street below, nearly popping his shoulder out of its socket when he grabbed a windowsill, and finally hit against the cobblestone with his back. He stared up at the sky as his vision spun, his breath completely driven out of him.

The Deviant peered down from on top of the roofs. La'gaan scrambled up to his feet, his breath hitching painfully, and ran. He was tossed into the air for a moment as the Deviant landed behind him, but he landed without difficulty and kept running. Using the knife he kept in his boot, he cut his useless Maneuver Gear loose and increased the distance between himself and the Titan.

He rounded the corner, but at the end of that road was another Titan. La'gaan was flanked. Desperate, the Atlantean raced for the nearest building—a tavern, from the looks of it—and hid in there.

He ducked below the window closest to the door, curling his aching body into a tight ball. "Neptune's Beard," he whispered. "Why me?"

La'gaan swallowed nervously as he lifted his head and peered out the window, taking in the sight of the two Titans coming down both sides of the street. The trainee's eye was caught by a corpse, a soldier that had been taken out by a chunk of debris from the wall. They had 3D Maneuver Gear, and it looked untouched.

Could La'gaan get it?


There was something wrong with these Titans. They couldn't all be Deviants, that was statistically impossible, but they were ignoring nearby humans unless one got right in their faces. Their goal, it seemed, was Jason. Tim remembered watching the mob devoured the rogue Titan, back when he thought it was a weapon and nothing more. Evidently these creatures still thought of Jason as food, no matter what his current form was.

Captain Orin's forces were getting cut through like they were nothing. The gate was finally within sight, but it would still be a while before they reached it. Tim was starting to doubt that any of them would make it there alive.

"Behind us, Captain!" Arthur shouted. He was accompanied now by two of his teammates. "One 13-meter class!"

Captain Orin cursed in Atlantean, but Tim only knew this because he stood nearer than the rest and had learned some basics of the captain's language. Tim and Dick both turned, taking startled half-steps back when they saw that the mentioned 13-meter class had climbed up onto the roof. There was no doubt it was heading for Jason, freakishly wide eyes fixed on the back of the slow-walking Titan. Four more giants were coming in through the broken gate, all approximately ten meters in height.

"Blackjackets!" Captain Orin barked. Dick and Tim snapped to attention. "Take out the one behind us. Don't let it near Jason! We'll take care of the others."

Captain Orin led his and the others' squads to the front. Tim and Dick came around the back, heading for the 13-meter class coming after their brother.


Garfield slammed into his sister with a hug, wrapping both arms around her waist and squeezing tight. He used his wide, gap-toothed smile to hide his tears. "You made it!" he cried.

"Yeah, Gar, I made it," M'gann said quietly. She hesitated before returning the hug, then gently pushed him off. Garfield should have known the contact wouldn't last long. It never did these days. "Have you seen La'gaan yet?"

Garfield shook his head, chewing on his lip worriedly. "No, he hasn't shown up."

"Who hasn't shown up?"

Garfield and M'gann turned. Jaime had been moving up and down the western wall for some time now, reassuring other trainees and soldiers as best as he could, as well as providing supplies and taking turns acting as Titan bait. Garfield did not envy the job of dangling mere meters above dozens of Titan mouths.

Jaime looked between the siblings, his brown eyes full of concern. "Who hasn't shown up, hermano?" he asked again.

Garfield hesitated before speaking. "La'gaan," he told Jaime, and quickly lifted his hands as the other trainee's eyes widened in horror. "We—we had to split up in order to get here, La'gaan, M'gann, and me. He should be fine…"

"He was giving a Deviant the runaround, last we saw him," M'gann added.

Jaime paled. He turned away from them both, a fist to his mouth as he struggled for composure. Garfield could understand his pain. The teen had been working so hard to comfort everyone else faced with the losses of their dearest, but now that his best friend was out there with a Deviant after him…

"Still giving it the runaround," Jaime choked suddenly, rocking back one step as he drew his blades. "Giving two of them the runaround!"

Garfield followed Jaime's gaze. A small figure was running along the ground, alone and without Maneuver Gear. There were Titans at either end of the street, but they hadn't seen him yet. Garfield tried to say something, but all he managed were a few stuttered sounds.

M'gann's eyes stretched wide in a stunned manner. "He's trying to take Maneuver Gear off of another body," she said, looking dumbfounded by the fact.

The boy from El Paso left the wall behind and dropped down into Atlantean territory. Garfield didn't even hesitate before following, and M'gann came behind.


La'gaan had waited until both Titans had their backs turned before scuttling out into daylight. He skidded to a halt in front of the corpse and knelt to unfasten the belt clasps securing the unknown soldier's Gear to their body. He cursed as the clasps repeatedly locked in place. This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening.

He could hear the Titans moving closer, but refused to take his eyes off the belt. He had to stay focused on the task at hand. Another twist from his thumb and the belt finally came undone, allowing La'gaan to pull the Maneuver Gear free. Having already ditched his own, it was only a matter of getting this new stuff on.

La'gaan turned as he stood up, and immediately froze. He was almost nose-to-nose with the second Titan. Its rancid breath pushed back the folds of his shirt and jacket.

Neptune's… Beard…

The massive black eyes rolled back in the Titan's head, and La'gaan stumbled back as it fell forward. M'gann lowered two steaming blades into the rest position, giving La'gaan a curt nod. The Atlantean could only stare back in bewilderment. He had told her to rendezvous, why was she here?

And not alone, it seemed. La'gaan turned quickly as he remembered the Deviant, and blinked in astonishment as he saw that Jaime had already taken the Titan down. The other trainee gestured frantically with his blades.

"C'mon, hermano, get your Gear on!"

"I got it!" Garfield popped up next to the Atlantean and snatched the equipment before La'gaan had time to react. "Jaime, you carry him up!"

"Wait, whaAAAAAH!"

Jaime had already secured the grapple hooks of his Maneuver Gear, and he grabbed La'gaan as he reeled himself up. Garfield and M'gann were already waiting for them when they landed, and Garfield helped La'gaan get the new Maneuver Gear on.

M'gann shook her head at the Atlantean. "You're insane," she reprimanded.

"You're the crazy ones!" La'gaan exclaimed. "Why did you come after me? I told you to go to the third western point on the wall!"

Garfield smiled sheepishly, but M'gann was facing away from the group, watching their perimeter. Jaime didn't display a hint of regret. La'gaan had never been happier to see him.

"Finish getting your gear on, La'gaan," Jaime said, lightly punching the Atlantean's shoulder. "We've gotta get out of here."

"Yeah, yeah, Blue, I know," La'gaan muttered. He ducked to hide a smile as he fastened the last straps in place.

"Boys."

La'gaan, Jaime, and Garfield all turned. M'gann still wasn't facing them, but everything about her body language screamed shock.

"Look."


Dick wasn't counting the Titans anymore. He wasn't even tracking which ones broke through the perimeter—his goal now was to protect Jason and whoever else he could reach. Captain Orin was clearly thinking the same thing, attacking the Titans approaching Jason and going after his troops with equal ferocity. The Atlantean had to stop and catch his breath, and Dick saw his opportunity.

"We're almost to the gate, Captain," the Blackjacket said as he landed. "One more push and we'll make it."

"Our numbers are dwindling," Captain Orin said wearily. "And there are many Titans surrounding the gate. We can't get them from up here. J'onn said something about running along the ground… I told him it was suicide, but now I'm beginning to think that he was right from the start."

Dick didn't ask about Orin's use of was—the Atlantean's tonewas answer enough. Captain Orin's face set into an expression of grim determination, and Dick took a few quick steps back as the man drew in a deep breath for a rallying cry.

"We are entering the final steps, soldiers!" he bellowed, his voice echoing over splintered streets and broken buildings. "Protect Jason at all costs until he reaches the gate! This day we take back what is ours!"

The voices that cried back were few, but fierce. Captain Orin would never know that less than a kilometer away, La'gaan was echoing the same words to the three classmates with him, and he would never know how in that moment, Atlantis' highest and lowest of peoples thought in exactly the same way. As Captain Orin and the remnants of the squads accompanying him moved to fight the Titans blocking Jason's path, La'gaan and his squad were racing to join them.

Dick descended to the street to lure the Titans away in larger numbers, just as J'onzz had suggested to Captain Orin. It worked, almost a little too well. Dick spared a second to glance over at Jason. The Titan's pace had slowed, and the pause between each step had grown longer, but he was still moving.

"Come on, Jason!" Dick roared, arcing in the air and taking out two Titans in rapid succession. "COME ON!"


Heavy. So heavy.

Jason's lungs, his arms and legs and heart and everything, they all burned. He could barely see where he was walking, and couldn't tell at all if he was trampling cobblestone road or human bodies. The bones within his arms were splintering into each other.

Breathe, he reminded himself. Step. Breathe. Step.

It was a stupidly simple pair of commands, but it was all his body could manage to obey. While his Titan form struggled on with its burden, Jason's mind wandered.

The teen had walked along Wall Iris' surface around Atlantis District many times in the past. Almost always he would reach the section over the gate into Wall Cassandra, and stare out over the innumerable stretches of territory that had been seized by the Titans.

Breathe. Step.

Then he would turn and look into the inner portion of Atlantis, at the rivers leading in through Wall Iris all the way to Wall Lois, at the fields and villages, at the forests and hills and mountains stretching beyond his sight. It was beautiful. It was so much less than what they were supposed to have.

Step. Breathe.

Two thirds and eighty percent of humanity's land and population. If Wall Iris fell, the sacrifice would be much greater than just twenty percent. There was no way the territory inside of Wall Lois could support even half of the remaining population. And it was then, always then, that Jason kept asking himself: was he going to let what had happened to his wall happen to this one?

No. Not as long as Jason lived.

Breathe. Step, step. Breathe. Step, step, step. Breathe—come on, Jason, faster! Faster!

There was the gate. Or what was left of it. There was only a massive hole, just the right size for the boulder that had been kicked out of it. Jason huffed, steam and spittle spraying from between his teeth, and took another step.

He thought he could hear his name. But over his own screaming pain, Jason could hear nothing. With a final roar, he pushed the boulder off his shoulders and slammed it down. The force of the impact was enough to knock him back, and his Titan form fell to the ground.

Jason closed his eyes.


Silence.

It made Dick stop and look up, almost bewildered by the lack of striding Titan with a boulder lifted over its shoulders. The hush spread across the fractured clearing, heavy breathing and Titan steam going up to meet the clouds.

Dick looked for Tim. He was standing several meters away, tension wrought through his body as he stared at the sealed gate and Jason's Titan sitting in front of it. His plan has worked. Atlantis had been retaken.

"You did it," Dick whispered. He rushed forward and grabbed Tim by the shoulders, laughing. "Tim, your plan worked!"

The laugh froze in Dick's throat as he realized that Tim was weeping. Pale blue eyes, overflowing with tears, stared up into cobalt orbs.

"Yeah," he choked. "I did this."

The gate had been sealed. Jason's Titan form had collapsed and had its back propped against the stone as it steadily evaporated. Nearly every building within a kilometer had been completely demolished. Of the twenty humans that had gone to accompany Jason on the operation, only three remained: two Blackjackets and Hal Jordan. Four 104th trainees had apparently joined in the fray as well, and managed to survive it.

Hal Jordan unclipped the case he had been carrying with him through the entire battle. After freeing the clasps, he opened it up and withdrew a single smoke round for his gun: yellow, for success. He covered his other ear and aimed the gun straight up. A column of yellow ascended over their position.

"This is a victory," Jordan said quietly. Dick glanced towards Tim as his brother stepped back, instinctively hiding behind his older sibling. Jordan closed the case and hurled it away with a scream. "THIS IS A VICTORY, DAMN IT!"

Tim was shaking. Dick found his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "The rest of the Titans are coming," he murmured. "We have to go now."

Tim nodded. "I'll get Jason out of the Titan. You keep Jordan distracted for a minute."

The brothers separated. Dick approached Jordan with some caution. The man seemed more than a little unstable at the moment—he had sat down on the ruins of the nearest building and put his head in his hands. He was coated in grime, and the blood of himself and his comrades.

"I told your brother," Jordan said as Dick approached. "I told him that he would get my friends killed today. And I was right."

"I'm sorry," Dick replied, his tones soft.

"Spare me your apologies, Blackjacket," Jordan spat. He looked up at Dick, and the teenager took half a step back. Never had he seen such intense hatred directed towards him. "Just take your brothers and go. Do whatever the hell it is that Commander Wayne has been setting you up for. I never want to see you again."

"What about the trainees?" Dick questioned, glancing over the younger soldiers' way. They were starting to come closer. "They'll be witnesses."

"I'm tired, you're young," Jordan answered bluntly. "You might as well punch me."

"I'm sorry," Dick said again. He brought his leg up and kicked Hal Jordan in the head, knocking the soldier out in one solid hit. He heard the trainees shout and start running. La'gaan in particular seemed eager for blood. Dick ran for Jason's steadily evaporating body and yelled up at Tim. "Give me some good news, Tim!"

"Part of his body is fusing with the Titan," Tim called back down. "Dick, we're gonna have to cut him out."

Dick wasted no time on his frustration and quickly fired a grappling hook, bringing himself above the Titan and his siblings both, and landing on Jason's other side. He grimaced at the hot red flesh conjoining Jason and the Titan.

"Hold on tight," he warned Tim, and sliced through.

Tim and Jason both fell, Tim grunting as his older brother landed on top of him. Jason had always been on the heavier side of things. Dick jumped after, and as he began to rise from the crouch he had landed in, he found himself yanked to the side. An arrow had pierced through his cloak and right into a wedge between two cobblestones.

"Well, hey there, kids. What are you doing?"

Dick undid his cloak, freeing himself as it fell to the ground, and he drew his blades as he turned to face the man who had spoken. He had a strong dislike for him already, simply going from the condescension in his tone.

Dick's eyes widened. He recognized the insignia on the other man's cloak: the Wings of Freedom. That meant that this could only be…

Captain Roy Harper, one of the most skilled fighters in the entire history of the Survey Corps. Also a native of the Wall Lois underground, which meant he understood the art of evasion. There was no way Dick and his brothers would be able to get away from him, especially with Jason unconscious. Hell would sooner freeze over.

Captain Harper nodded, his lips curling up into a cold smirk. "Smart thinking, Blackjacket," he said.

Tim had managed to push Jason off of him, and was now standing, his older sibling's arm draped across his shoulders. He didn't say anything, his eyes asking for an order, a hint, anything to act off of.

Dick shook his head. They would have to wait until Captain Harper was gone.

He barely heard the grapple hook slam into the wall. The sound of reeling steel cable was too high-pitched for him to even recognize it at first. From behind someone came, coiling arms around both Dick and Tim's chests, and Tim cried out in dismay as Jason slipped from his hold.

Dick couldn't even tell where they were or where they were going. Looking up to their rescuer, he saw only a green hood and a freckled nose. Whoever this was, they were a master of 3 Dimensional Maneuver Gear and impossibly fast.

Seconds later they were released to tumble within an abandoned house's open door. Dick identified it as one of their cache locations, and knew they had gotten more than three kilometers away. Three kilometers in a handful of seconds? Dick had never thought Maneuver Gear could even achieve such speeds.

Dick turned to examine the stranger who had gotten them away from Captain Harper. He wore a military uniform, and his green cloak was emblazoned with the same Wings of Freedom as the other soldier. His hood was still up, concealing everything except for a mouth and the tip of a nose. The stranger was holding onto one side of the doorframe, panting as he caught his breath.

"Jason—!" Tim exclaimed, rushing forward. The stranger blocked his way.

"Don't worry," he said. His voice was warm and kind and so horrifyingly familiar it made Dick's stomach drop. "Your brother will be safe, I promise. You can trust me."

He turned to Dick and the Blackjacket recognized now the crooked smile, the freckles around the chin. He stammered, reaching out a hand as he stumbled forward, but the Survey Corps soldier turned away, and in a blur of green and white he was gone.

Who would be insane enough to operate 3D Maneuver Gear like that? Dick already knew the answer, but he wished he didn't. This didn't make any sense.

"W—was that Barry Allen?" Tim stammered. He stared off in the direction the soldier had gone. "I thought… I thought he was stationed in Central."

Dick gave no reply. He was frozen in place, his hands trembling at his sides as he tried to remember how to breathe. This wasn't possible. It wasn't happening. But Dick couldn't deny what he had seen with his own eyes.

"Wally?"