Chapter Twelve: The revolution will be live.
"Man, are you sure about this?" Cyborg asked for the tenth time.
"Yes," Nightwing lied into his communicator for the tenth time.
"Well, alright then, but if anything, anything goes wrong, I want you to tell me."
Nightwing shook his head. "Yes, mom. Are you guys at the perimeter yet?"
"All set up. You're good to go."
Nightwing nodded, and flicked his communicator closed. He looked sidelong at Robin, who was double-checking his weapons for the last time.
"Ready?"
"As I'll ever be, I suppose."
Nightwing nodded. "Let's get this over with, then."
--
Nightwing moved on automatic, circumnavigating the hidden security systems throughout Wayne Manor without thinking. After all, evading them had been a fundamental part of his training.
With his feet doing most of the work for him, his mind was free to wander. It was for this reason that he wished that the security was a bit tighter.
The two had climbed in through an open window on the third floor, and were slowly making their way down to the ground. For the pair of them, it was like being assaulted by a legion of ghosts.
Nightwing slipped down the hallway, past the guest rooms, past the dumb waiter he had once got himself stuck in for three hours, down the flight of stairs he had once broken his arm trying to backflip down, onto the landing, down the main stairway, past the hallway to the kitchen he had been barred from ever since he had got up extra early to try to bake Alfred a birthday cake (with explosive results, and Alfred had taken great pleasure in regaling the young Dick Grayson with tales of how Master Bruce could destroy the kitchen while preparing nothing more than a bowl of cereal and some toast) and down the corridor into the study where he stopped dead in front of the Grandfather clock.
This was it. No going back now (as if there had been any real prospect of going back for some time now, even if there had been any where to go back to, apart from the woods). Death or glory. Or maybe both.
For some reason, a thought flitted across Nightwing's mind.
Children of America, rise up! You have nothing to lose but your frontal lobes!
Catchy.
Seeing that Nightwing wasn't moving, Robin moved to open the door, but Nightwing activated the hidden portal without a word, and the two slipped forwards, into the darkness.
--
The Batcave's long, sloping stairway had been designed to be hard to conceal yourself on. Sure, one didn't have to take the stairs, but only if you really felt like plummeting to your death.
Besides, if you were in the Batcave, it was a pretty sure bet that Batman knew where you were. With this in mind, neither Nightwing nor Robin concerned themselves too much with stealth.
And there he was, a pillar of granite, standing by his mighty computer, his attention fixed on a strange machine, a rectangle of pulsing energy.
The Batman. Teacher. Leader. Mentor. Father.
Nightwing fought to control his breathing. He could do this.
"You're late," a familiar baritone said, quietly.
Nightwing's grip tightened on his staff.
"What do you mean, late?"
"You missed all the excitement." Bruce sounded as calm as ever.
Nightwing and Robin shared brief glances- a stupid mistake, but one they couldn't help making- before looking back at Batman. He hadn't moved.
"What 'excitement'?" Nightwing asked carefully.
Bruce snorted lightly, his version of a rueful chuckle. "Time enough for explanations later. I suggest you prepare yourselves."
Nightwing was about to run out of patience when a black-haired head emerged from the portal.
Things happened quickly from there. Nightwing pulled out the ring and slipped it on his finger as the man's white-clad shoulders became evident. Robin pulled out his communicator as his torso became visible. As he stepped into the world, and other familiar shapes began to follow him, Robin screamed out a warning.
"Guys, they're here! They're all here!"
--
"Guys, they're here! They're all here!"
"Aw, fuck." Cyborg allowed himself the luxury of swearing before charging towards the front door of Wayne Manor, the others at his shoulders. They had all heard the message.
Cyborg hadn't liked this- Nightwing had insisted that no one was going to take down Batman but him and Robin. Sure, he could see why Dick had decided that, but that didn't mean he thought it was a good idea, and had said so repeatedly. Eventually, Dick had pulled rank, and that had been that.
Now? Now everything was shot to hell.
As they approached the main doors, Cyborg didn't slow, instead charging his sonic cannon and blasting them to oblivion without breaking step. The team thundered through the mansion, down the corridor, to the grandfather clock, which Cyborg wrenched off the wall before charging into the darkness behind.
A few minutes later, a black-clad figure ghosted through the mansion, surveying the wrecked doors with a dispassionate eye. When it arrived at the study, it observed the destruction within for a few moments before passing comment.
"Oh my," said Alfred, without a hint of emotion.
--
Nightwing kept his head when Superman appeared in the cave. Without a moment's hesitation, he put on his purloined kryptonite ring and took a swing at Superman's head.
In the second before connection, he wondered what exactly kryptonite would do to Superman.
He hadn't expected the sickening crack that accompanied the blow, nor had he expected Superman to be knocked flat on his back.
Suddenly, Wonder Woman charged for him, swinging her fists like jackhammers. To his astonishment, Nightwing found he could dodge them easily, and a quick blow to the head dispatched her. Beside him, Robin was fighting Green Lantern with equal ease.
They've got no powers. I don't know what's happened but they've got no powers.
Nightwing allowed himself to feel a flush of victory as the Green Lantern was knocked backwards by Robin's staff, seconds before Hawkgirl's mace slammed into his chest and sent him tumbling across the cave.
--
The Titans burst into the Batcave to find themselves staring at utter bedlam. Robin and Green Lantern were sparring- and Robin was winning easily- Superman and Wonder Woman seemed to be unconscious, Batman was just standing there, the Martian was looking around in confusion, and Hawkgirl-
was standing over Nightwing, a look of fury on her face, preparing to bring her mace down on his semi-conscious head.
Needless to say, this did not go down well with Starfire.
--
Nightwing looked up, through a haze of pain, to see a crackling orb of metal inches from his face. As he watched, it raised into the air, where it hovered for a few seconds.
I'm going to die.
The realisation cleared his head instantly, and he feebly tried to roll out of the way, but before he had time to move, before Hawkgirl had time to bring her weapon crashing down onto his skull, a green fireball smashed into her, slamming her into thee cavern walls.
He looked up into the glowing face of his saviour, and smiled.
--
Cyborg looked around. It looked like-
"Did we win?" he asked, incredulous hope dripping from every syllable.
"Not quite," someone with Nightwing's voice, and Nightwing's face said, seconds before he shifted.
"Aw, fuck," Cyborg said, for the second time that evening.
He blasted at the Martian with his sonic cannon, but the Martian simply became intangible. He swung a punch, only to have it caught, and his hand was crushed out of shape in a vicelike grip. He tried desperately to escape the Martian's grip, but before he could do anything, the Martian punched him square in the chest, sending him flying.
The Martian retained his grip on Cyborg's arm.
Changeling and Raven attacked in unison, hoping to overwhelm him, but he simply punched Changeling in the head and hurled Raven backwards. Before he could make proper use of this, though, Supergirl was upon him, forcing him backwards with a series of punishing blows. Eventually, he managed to block a swipe, and he smirked at his opponent.
For reasons that would become clear to him in a few moments, she glanced over his shoulder, and smirked right back.
Before he could read her mind, before he could turn around, before he could do anything, he was hit in the back with a column of pure cold. As he turned, he was turned into an icicle.
Jinx tossed Mr. Freeze's gun to one side. "Take that, motherfucker."
Supergirl shot her a quizzical look. Jinx shrugged in response.
"I could never get the hang of quips."
Tim looked around. "So...is it over?"
Almost on cue, Superman rose from his crumpled heap. His movements were groggy, and he was clearly dismayed by the destruction around him. After a few false starts, he spoke.
"...Could've been so perfect...paradise..."
As he lumbered towards the assorted heroes, his face turned from confusion to rage.
"They couldn't see the beauty! No imagination! They'd rather fight!"
As he passed Batman, who had remained as still as a statue the entire time, the vigilante gave Superman a quick chop to the neck, rendering him unconscious.
"Now it's over".
--
Wasn't that anti-climactic? Just an epilogue to go now, folks.
