Author's note:

Yes, I know, it's been ages since I updated this story. Sue me, but it's finally almost finished.

The final two or three chapters will be here within the next two weeks, and may Zues strike me down if I'm wrong.

-TheGhostOfLostBoys

One thing about being trained by the Batman, it made you move quietly. So when Dick and Jason landed, half a metre behind a lonely paranoid armed mercenary, the first that he knew of the presence of the heroes was the arm around his neck and the hand clamped over his mouth. He was out in four seconds. Killer Moth, Freeze, and the spare armour and weapons landed not long after.

The gunfire and occasional explosion from the battle outside was deafening, but the four of them knew that they had a job to do.

They weren't far from the main building, so they slowly managed to sneak towards the doors, taking out two more guards in the process, before resting in cover to reload and for Freeze to get his suit on.

"Okay. Freeze, you and Red Hood are going for the main building," whispered Dick. "Find the power for Prometheus's defence system, and shut the bastard down. Once that's done, I'll send the signal to Supergirl and the League, they'll be here in a flash. Moth, you're going to find the civilians, get them ready for an evac as soon as Black Mask and the others secure the perimeter. Edward'll be in your earpieces the whole time, so you just listen to him, you'll be fine."

"What about you?" asked Jason, wiping blood off his knife and loading a rifle he'd taken from a downed guard.

"I'm going for the warhead."

"Dick, Rās'll have that whole place crawling with guards."

"What's your point?"

"Dick..." said Jason, looking down in frustration and exhastion. "You go in there by yourself, you'll get slaughtered."

"If we can't secure this place for the League, we'll be slaughtered anyway."

"Take Killer Moth with you, Dick. I can deal with the civilians," suggested Freeze.

"No."

"I'm coming anyway, Dick," said Drury, a grim look of determination etched on his face.

"I'm second-in-command here, Dick, so I'm ordering him to go with you and make sure you don't die," smiled Jason under his helmet.

"I'm in charge, I'm ordering him to stay with you."

"You can court martial me later, Dick," said Drury, letting out a nervous laugh before checking around the corner and flicking off the safety on his gun. "You coming or not?"

Dick groaned, muttered something along the lines of "damned anti-heroes," and followed after Drury, flinging batarangs at guards as they ran, and leaving Jason and Freeze alone.

Despite everything, Jason briefly forgot about the revolution and realised how freezing cold it was this time of year, with the mist of his breath visible in the biting and windy air.

"I shall head for the civilian holding cells, and evacuate them through whatever gate is more secure," said Freeze, jogging in the opposite direction. Meanwhile, Jason heard the hurried marching of troops coming for his position, so he ran off towards what was once the police stations IT center, throwing a grenade or two for his assailants before rushing through the door.

Even in all his years as Robin, and then Red Hood, in all his travels, Jason had never seen a system quite like what he saw before him when he slammed the door open. Endless arrays of cables and wires and computer servers, all hooked up to all manner of strange devices, both magical and alien. Dark crystals pulsated with light and evil sorcery, and a yellow power battery glowed nearby. At the heart of the twisted maze was the unearthly, almost evil green glow of kryptonite. This was the system, the program that had the power to hold back the entire Justice League.

To Jason, it was almost beautiful, in a demented and destructive kind of way. He would have had more time to look into it, had he not suddenly been floored by a roundhouse kick to the face.

It was only slightly depressing for Jason to admit it wasn't the first time that had happened.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" said the man standing over him. "A motorcycle fetish-themed vigilante? At least when the clown wore that outfit it was classy. You look like you're out of a James Dean movie."

Jason groaned and looked up, the twisted grin of Prometheus looking back at him.

"At least I don't look like I just walked out of a bad Star Trek spin off," Jason remarked back, jumping to his feet and facing his opponent. They circled each other, each looking for even the slightest drop of defences.

"You should know, before I kill you that I do admire the stones you must have to try something as stupid as this," smirked Prometheus, unsheathing a sword and pointing it menacingly at Jason.

"Dude, you have no idea how many stupid ideas I get daily," yelled Jason, pulling a knife from his belt and leaping at Prometheus. Again, he was thrown to the geound painfully, the knife dropped and kicked away in the corner of the room.

"You really don't get it, do you? I've already helped slaughter the Justice League - the Olympic pantheon of the modern age. Why do you still think you can win?" Prometheus laughed, kicking Jason in the guts while he lay on the ground, already bruied and bleeding.

"Cause I don't give a damn about morals in a fight, you gutless shit," exclaimed Jason, staggering to his feet again. "I'm not some boyscout with a cape."

"No, you are something else entirely, Hood. You're a thug. You're little more than a henchman for Bird-Boy."

"And you're a lunatic hired by a lunatic. You and Rā's are perfect for each other." Jason gasped in pain, clutching his bruised ribs as he was kicked into the wall.

"More than anything, you're pathetic. A bad imitation of the Bat. You're a joke," declared Prometheus, walking up to Jason and pulling out a pistol. "Time for your punchline."

"No," said Jason, still in brutal pain. "I hate jokes." Jason slammed his armoured head into Prometheus's, pushing him back before sliding his other knife from his belt and plunging it into his foe's eye socket. He yelled in pain, blood streaming out from his helmet, trying desperatly to pull the blade from his skull. "Like I said, I'm no boyscout. Batman may have been real clear about the whole no-killing rule, but I'm not him," he said, picking up the gun and leaning in close to Prometheus's gasping bleeding form on the floor. "I'm worse. The joke's on you, you son of a bitch."

He pulled the trigger without a second thought.