The bowels of the city held many surprises for those who traversed it. Anyone with common sense in their vessel wouldn't dare set foot on the streets at night. Between the escalated gang activity, rampant crime in general, and maniacs that called it home, it was indeed smart to stay indoors when the sun set. Though somewhat safer after breaking up one of the largest rackets that had a stranglehold over the city, it was far from safe. A psychosis-induced monstrosity only added fuel to the proverbial flames.
"This isn't befitting of neither of us," the AI scathed, "calling the streets home and wandering around aimlessly."
Shrouded in darkness, shielded from view deep within a back alley, Slade rested upon the ground behind a dumpster, studying his hands…the very same he had killed dozens in his short time or resurrection. Though made of high-precision, polished steel, they had become tinted with a faint red of dried blood. The joints were much deeper in shade, withholding the viscous lifeforce he had taken from so many. Menacing in appearance, it didn't help ease his thoughts any with the addition of blood on his hands.
"Where else am I supposed to go then?" He questioned of his "partner" that shared his person. "I haven't any worldly possession other than this body, and most of it isn't even mine."
"A good place to start would be to search for that forsaken apprentice of yours that put you in your current predicament." The machine suggested, but Slade's thought patterns said otherwise. Even if Slade remained silent, the program would know what he was thinking. "I already know your stance on the issue, Mr. Wilson, no need to reiterate yourself. I do ask this of you though…what else can you possibly do? You yourself stated that acceptance of what you are and what you did in past lives will not be forgiven. Why not put an end to both your's and her suffering once and for all, hmm?"
"Raven doesn't suffer," Slade countered, closing his artificial hands into fists in an apparent expression of anger, but it quickly subsided, "wherever she may be, she is relieved that I am "gone"…why not keep it that way? I have enough respect for her as both an adversary and what mutual understanding we share to leave her be. I've done society enough discredit as it is, if anything, I should be trying to use this to my advantage to make amends."
"Oh, enough with the bleeding heart," the AI mocked, "you and I both know that you are a sadistic bastard and nothing will ever change that. Many of your acts can be qualified as crimes against humanity for the torture that you have put children through. With the blood of many on your hands, there isn't a chivalrous or kind act you can come up with to make up for what you have done short of curing cancer or some other nonsense. Humans amuse me with their ability to expire."
"You are no one to pass judgment on me," he replied with force, sighing after he completed his statement, "unless you have something of importance to say, this conversation is over."
"The most negligent waste of my talents, of all the possible test subjects that foolish man could have placed me in, I am stuck with the "great" Slade Wilson, once the most feared man in Jump City with a fiery ambition of conquest over his foes…now…now nothing more than a coward and a complete failure. Though my line of work is quite grim by your standards, at least I follow through with what I set forth, not this pathetic display of determination I've witnessed thus far out of the likes of you."
"Silence!" Slade bellowed, grasping at the sides of his head in pain from the AI's voice in his ear, "I grow weary of your drabble. A computer program isn't going to dictate my actions, not now, not ever."
"I've done it before," the AI taunted, "what makes you think I won't do it again?"
Slade sat in silence, containing his anger at what resided within him. It was almost discomforting at how much the AI treated him much like he treated his own apprentices beneath him. The feeling of not being in control was too unsettling for him. No wonder his apprentices in the past rebelled against him, the very same feelings stirred within him.
"There's nothing you can do to escape me, human, I am absolute. Without me, you are nothing. Unless you willingly comply, you will continue to be so. I knew it wasn't a good idea to release you from my restraint."
Unable to essentially escape the voice, Slade did the next best thing he could think of, though it didn't seem too bright. Without hesitation, he slammed his head as hard as he possibly could into the dumpster before him, easily denting it. Though void of pain, he watched part of his mask fall to the ground before him from the force of the self-inflicted blow. Almost in awe, he studied the metallic piece that covered the left side of his face; he picked it up off the ground and turned it over to stare into the reflective surface.
"Only a face a mother could love," the AI commented maliciously, watching as he was locked onto his reflection, horrified by what he saw. His flesh was sunken and discolored, nearly outlining the ridges of his own skull, edges peeled back and literally stapled and sealed to machine. The closest thing it could be compared to was the worst nightmare realized.
"See what your apprentice has done to you? You dare to stand idle and allow her to frolic about and live in spite of your efforts to reform her, only to have this returned for your labor?"
"Chang did this to me, not Raven," he finally uttered under his breath to the machine, "I know what you are trying to do and it isn't going to work."
"My former master wouldn't have had the chance to mutilate and defile your remains to begin with if Raven hadn't struck you down. Now is the time to strike, Mr. Wilson, she is weak and vulnerable, you're in your synthetic prime. The iron's hot…this may be your last chance to mold your fate."
Slade sat there, sighing deeply as he contemplated his situation. The machine knew long before he had a chance to speak of his decision. Without a word, he simply placed the missing piece of his mask back into place over his eye, assuring it was in place as he rose to his feet.
"Whatever will appease the both of us and gain me my peace and freedom from the likes of you and my own agendas…" he spoke, studying his hand, "…then so be it."
"A wise compromise to say the least, Mr. Wilson," the AI congratulated, "the first step on the road to recovery, at this rate, we'll have you transformed into a model citizen in no time."
Slade simply ignored his chiding remarks as he walked unto the streets once more, a reignited passion, nay, thirst for blood…a raven's blood. It didn't matter if the thoughts were his own anymore, the AI's hand had been played beautifully and worked to that of near perfection. All that remained was the results.