Stuck in a building again. Zima didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or cry.
They were at the top floor of this unpainted concrete block of an apartment building, a hallmark of Ursus architecture. The Rhodes Island Operators told those who were "unfit" to fight, to hole up here.
Some of them were here for logical reasons, like that red-haired boy who had a piece of Originium shoved into his shoulder, the poor bastard. Even if his friends were assholes. As was the little kid he saved from that building. Looking at her, she couldn't even hurt an ant, nevermind Reunion.
The rest, though, Zima had no fucking clue. They made them, the Ursus Self-Governing Group, stay up here while the adults handled everything down there.
Their reasoning made no sense to her. If everybody's lives were in danger, then it was every able-bodied person's responsibility to go out there and fucking help.
If all those "Operators" get killed, what do they expect the rest of them to do? Jump out the windows?
Going with these strangers was a mistake. It landed them in the middle of a deathtrap waiting to happen.
This is what happens when you trust authority. They fuck up, and you get fucked by extension. Why? Because you had the idiocy to put all your eggs in one bloody basket, before it gets in the middle of a car pileup at a four-way intersection.
She heard a whimper, and looked at the rest of the group.
Some of them were looking in a direction other than Zima. Some looked out the windows, either despairing at the current state of their city, or hypnotised by the devastation of it all. Others looked at the ground, unable to handle looking anywhere else. Some looked at each other, searching for answers from people who were just as clueless as they were.
Some of them glared at the noble bitch. Whatever.
Others looked at the little girl or that Wally guy, as if somehow they were the cause of what was happening, and not their incompetent "rescuers".
Most of them, though, were looking at her. At the student that was given the sobriquet of the "Winter General".
They looked at her, the one who led this scrappy little band of students through this disaster that killed most of the adults.
They looked at her, like she would take up the mantle of "leader" once more, and drag them through the mud back to safety again.
Zima didn't want to do it.
She never intended to be any kind of big boss, she just kept seeing others do stupid shit, and there had to be someone to keep them all from killing themselves. It's not her fault that they saw sticking close to her as the best way to survive in that hellhole.
But as she saw all their faces, Zima knew what she had to do. Her face hardened.
Fuck it, Fuck it all.
At the head of her cadre of terrified students, she held up her axe like it was the blood-red banner of revolution.
"We will survive!"
"We will survive!"
"Those bastards won't end us, students of Peterheim!"
"Students of Peterheim!"
They were under siege now. Not the best tactical position, but much better than getting surrounded on all sides while on open terrain.
Reunion opted for a heroic (that is to say, quite stupid) rush into the building. They charged, one hundred strong, straight for the entrance.
By the time they stepped into effective range, the Snipers mowed them down like grass in front of a rain of arrows, bolts, and bullets. The few dozen or so survivors retreated, regrouping beyond their range.
Back there, in the distance, a few of the more eagle-eyed Snipers saw a few of them breaking off from the group. They were almost certainly calling in reinforcements..
This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
Operator Blaze had been fiddling and whacking her radio for the last few minutes, to no avail. But with this last smash and twiddle, the radio ceased it's nonsense crackle. A voice on the other end wondered out loud.
"Fucking finally!" yelled Blaze. She picked up the handset, and yelled into it.
"Hello, hello!? Doc, are ya there? Yeah, right now we're at… err… 879 Tsarina Street. We're holed up in an apartment block after Reunion units chased us down and cornered us. We are now under siege.
We're surrounded on all sides and they're encroaching further and further. We've fought the good fight, but they have the numbers. We need fire support and extraction now."
The radio burbled yet another question, unheeding of Blaze's distress.
"Oh come on, we're pinned and surrounded here, do we really have the time to- Okay, alright, the answer is no, we weren't able to find what exactly made Closure's little sensors go all crazy, but I can guarantee that that doesn't matter two shits anymore, not when the lives of children are on the line here!
… Yeah, FYI we picked up survivors with us. About a little more than a dozen Ursus high-school students. So bring an extra-large flyer for us, we'll need the space. Yeah, I know that wasn't supposed to be our objective. No, I don't care, just give us some bloody support and extraction now."
After a few moments, she threw the handset at the table, embedding it in the wood panelling.
"What happened!?" yelped another Operator.
"..."
Wrenching the handset out, she sent a message to all Rhodes Island units in the building.
Help is coming in twenty minutes, people. Better dig in and sit tight, we're gonna be here awhile.
Artemis frowned, as her earpiece received the message.
The Snipers were all perched on the fifth floor, watching the street, as the enemy got closer and closer.
They first saw them gathering down the street, gathering like water droplets in a storm cloud. Individuals spilled out from between buildings, out of broken windows, or running down alleyways.
Then, once they reached a certain critical mass, on the cue of an unheard command, the whole mass of Reunion troops charged the building again.
The Snipers watched, very still.
They watched the charging crowd, their forms too far away to hit accurately. They stood, or kneeled, or laid prone, their crosshairs fixated on the onrushing enemy.
And then, when those thugs stepped into their effective range, they fired arrows, bolts, and bullets.
The first wave fell to concentrated, overlapping fire. But they bought enough time for a second wave to reach even closer to the building, before the Snipers obliterated them too.
A few Snipers saw a distant figure pointing.
Pointing straight at them.
They then saw a handful of robed figures charging up bright Arts spells.
The Snipers had to retreat, as fireballs arced from the sky, right unto their positions.
Not all of them made it. Some of them were too slow, and got immolated. Others were knocked out the windows by the shockwave.
As the attacks exploded, those below yelled in their impending victory, and charged again.
Blaze swore upon seeing this, and shouted into her radio.
"Our Snipers have gotten fucked. Operators, prepare for close-quarters combat!"
Once more, a wave of Reunion troops washed over the Defenders in front of the building, but this time a few were able to get behind them.
Completely surrounded, the Defender's shield wall dissolved. The whole thing degenerated into a dangerous melee, as they tried to regroup back into the building's entrance hall.
Something slammed into the middle of the Reunion crowd.
Superboy threw Reunion troops left and right like this was a pillow fight, and they were the pillows. Blades blunted when they struck him, arrows broke in two as they struck his skin, nothing at all seemed to hurt him.
A few feet beside him, Skadi had her sword drawn. She swung it more like a bat than a sword, a hunk of metal that sent enemy goons flying in bloody homeruns.
Connor had a fire in his eyes, and was so caught up in beating the enemy that he didn't notice the black bolt of magic coming straight for him.
"Connor, look out!"
"Aarrrgh!"
His skin burned after exposure to mystic fire, the shot bypassing his Kryptonian cells' insane durability to truly burn him.
M'gann flew down and carried Connor to the floor above, where a Rhodes Medic was waiting.
Connor grimaced as he saw the Medic's healing staff, and waved her off. Instead of leaving, the Medic opted to spray some sort of medicine on the burn instead, causing him to hiss and glare at her.
"Conner, watch out for their sorcerers next time." said. M'gann "You're as weak to Magic as you are to Kryptonite, just like Superman. Remember that, okay?"
The moment she mentioned that name, he scowled. Ms. Martian flinched.
Conner's face showed instant regret.
"Ah, M'gann, I'm…-"
"No, no, no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched that nerve with you…" she said.
In response, he just grabbed her hands, and held it in his own.
"C'mon now, there's nothing I can't not forgive you for…"
"..."
"Umm, sorry to interact this private moment and all, but Reunion has just taken over the first floor, and we need every hand we can get!" yelled an Operator from an open door.
The couple took one more look at each other, then rushed down the stairs.
The Defenders were now inside the building proper, taking up position on both ends of the ground-floor hallway. They were able to hold out for a good, long while, a testament to their dedication.
Yet, even they had limits. A lucky few attackers were able to avoid the spears and shield thrusts, and step foot inside the building. Even if most of them got shot within seconds.
The Snipers, who had once held off the enemy from the upper floors, have now entered the ground-floor hall.
Staying in front of the stairwells, the Snipers now engaged their enemies in closer quarters than they expected.
Artemis drew back on her arrow's drawstring, and launched yet another blunt arrow into the head of the nearest charging goon. It knocked him out in one hit. She sighed. At least they weren't fucking punching glove arrows.
She reached into her quiver, only to find nothing but air. She swore.
"Damn it! Anyone have a few extra arrows to spare?" she asked, to nobody in particular.
"Here!" said another one of the Snipers (which was apparently Rhodes Island's term for any long-ranged fighter), tossing her a bundle of arrows. These were actual arrows, with sharp arrowheads that could pierce flesh. Artemis honestly couldn't remember the last time she fired one of these. Even during training, "Uncle" Oliver made her train with suction-cup arrows on the target board instead of sharp ones. Presumably so as to not "tempt" her with their existence.
While she appreciated his mentorship, she had to wonder what he took her for sometimes.
"There's more where that came from! Enough to pierce every Reunion fucker in this city!"
To that, the rest of the snipers in earshot laughed, and after a few seconds, Artemis laughed too.
The next Reunion goon she saw would be greeted with an arrow to the gut.
One of their goons must have had a brainwave, because Reunion eventually wisened up to the idea of making their own entrances, instead of going into ones already guarded.
There was a loud boom from one of the ground-floor apartments. Then, that apartment's front door opened. Enemy troops streamed in, completely bypassing the Rhodes Island Defenders.
The Snipers found themselves with the enemy in their faces.
"Pull back! Pull back!" Artemis heard someone shouting, as she was trying to shoot down troops that were seconds away from bashing her face in.
The archer had abandoned any pretense of fighting non-lethally at this point. Her hands and arms worked like a well-oiled machine, replacing arrows in her bow and shooting them through the nearest enemy.
One of them got too close, and she greeted him by shoving an arrow into his gut like an elongated knife.
Soon, the Defenders rushed to their position, sandwiching Reunion between shields and arrows.
At that point, the Operators who survived regrouped, and retreated towards the staircases.
*The entrance hall on the ground floor has fallen. We're falling back.* barked the radio.
A few restless minutes later, they were now on the second floor. The wide open ground floor had given way to narrow corridors and small apartment blocks.
The fighting continued.
In a limited space such as this, a Kryptonian (even a clone like him) had to watch his strength. He could risk the entire structure falling down around him if he didn't. Survivable for him, but everyone else would be ground meat.
As two of those Reunion guys rushed him, he punched one of them into the floor. He punched the other into a mini wrought-iron gate that these apartment doors had in front of them.
As he fought, he kept Black Canary's words in mind, about always pulling his punches when dealing with enemies with far more fragile bodies than him. He made sure to put enough force so that they won't think about causing trouble again, but not hard enough to kill.
Heroes never kill. Superman never kills. Heroes never kill.
And then an overwhelming pain tore through the nerves of his back, a gout of flame that felt like it burned him to the core.
Roaring, Conner turned around and punched the first Reunion goon he saw. He sent him flying across the hallway, blood and teeth flying from his face.
Then, right behind him, he saw the guy.
Long, dark robes. Glowy hands. Long staff with a glowy end. This was a different world, but Connor knew a spellcaster when he saw one.
"You!" he roared, before leaping into the caster's face, and punching him into the floor, with enough force to crack the concrete.
"..."
There were… no more bad guys. No more bad guys on this floor, at least. He should go downstairs, he should support the rest of them at the front line...-
There was something covering his hand.
Red. Warm.
His hand was covered in blood.
It wasn't his blood.
He looked down, and realised that he had actually punched through the spellcaster.
He wasn't breathing anymore.
He was suddenly struck with an intense, nervous fear. He looked left, and right, at the hallways stretching out to either side of him. He looked into each of the open apartments, where they had ambushed him.
He was alone. Aside from the knocked-out goons scattered about him (and the cooling one by his feet that he tried to ignore), he was alone on this floor.
Alone.
After standing there for a few moments, he picked up the body of the dead caster, and tossed it behind a living room couch.
No, there's no need to worry. They won't find this body.
Even if they did, nobody would make the connection to him.
Superman would definitely never find out what happened here. Nope.
"..."
No, it would be best if he left and never spoke of this again. He tried to push all thoughts of what happened out of his mind, to focus on the now.
More of those assholes are definitely still coming up the stairs. I'll be there to body them if they try to come close to those kids.
Connor's mind went through his fist running through one of those "Reunion" bastards, showing them exactly what he thought of them and everything they did-
No, no, no.
… Maybe killing them wouldn't be so bad?
He rapidly shook his head, pounding his head with his hands to get his thoughts back into order.
Superman wouldn't think that way. He would be ashamed that someone carrying part of his name would even consider this line thought.
No, Heroes don't kill. And he, Conner, Superboy, was a Hero.
Amongst the scared and angry Ursus children, sat Wally.
He felt pretty bad, being so useless. Here he was, safe and sound up here, while everyone else was fighting to save everyone downstairs.
All the students were there, as well as that young Ursus girl he saved from that burning building. She seemed to be keeping her distance from him, looking between the floor and this damn crystal embedded in his right shoulder. Which was starting to itch like hell.
The student survivors stayed huddled together, in their own corner away from the white-haired girl.
They did a little chant to keep their spirits up, but after that, there was little they could do but wait.
"..."
The atmosphere was tense enough to cut with a knife. Especially with some of the students still shooting venomous looks towards white hair over there. Some of them are never going to let it go, it seemed.
"..."
This was usually when Wally would do something stupid (or innovative, as he would call it).
"… Oh, I completely forgot!" Wally exclaimed in jest, slapping his forehead. "We haven't even told each other our names yet!" he exclaimed, to which everyone else in the room just stared at him.
"So anyways, my name's Wally, what's yours?" he asked the little girl, holding out his hand. After a beat, he decided to remove his mask as well.
Back in his home world, he was always lectured on keeping a tight lid on his civilian identity. Never use your real name, and always cover your face while in Hero Mode. The necessity of this masquerade was obvious to everybody. There were too many cases of loved ones getting targeted by unscrupulous villains for it not to be. Not only that, but this also had the benefit of Heroes being able to avoid the media circus at any point, simply by taking off the mask.
But… this was a different world, with different rules. And he had the feeling that people here might react better to a real person's face, rather than a mask.
"Ah… Umm…"
The young girl didn't take his hand (Do handshakes even exist in this world? So many questions), but at least she's trying to answer.
"Nadja, my name is… Err, I mean, my name is Nadja..."
"Nadja, alright, that's a great name!" he said, swinging his arms.
"My name is Lada, but everyone calls me Gummy!" said blondie, stepping over to them. "So you can call me that, too!"
She then went over to the white-haired girl, and pulled her over.
"C'mon, introduce yourself!"
"..."
After a moment of hesitation, she did a little curtsy in front of Nadja.
"My name is Natalya. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Gummy then went over to their axe-wielding leader.
"... My real name ain't important. Just call me Zima, 'cause the winter beats everyone, no matter who. Don't forget it, or else I'll beat you up too."
"... Anna." the blue-haired girl said, before returning to her book.
The other students looked on, still unsure. Slowly, though, they came up to her and introduced themselves.
"That wasn't so hard, wasn't it?" said Gummy.
Nadja looked back and forth, her expression unsure.
"See? Nobody's here to hurt you." said Wally. "And if someone does try to hurt you, we'll beat them up silly!" he said, flexing his muscles.
Even if just for the tiniest of moments, Nadja relaxed. And that meant the world to Wally.
The Reunion wave continued to beat them down, chipping away at their strength like a river wearing down a rock drop by drop. The Rhodes Island Operators were slowly being forced further and further up the building.
Defender Ginny was on the second floor, put in charge of covering a narrow hallway. Behind her was a staircase that led to the upper floors.
Her job was made extra imperative by the fact that, should anyone slip by her, there would be nobody standing between Reunion and the children.
She gripped her shield, and readied her short sword as she heard Reunion rushing in.
She saw three goons. She moved her shield so that the first two would smack their stupid masked faces directly into her shield. Meanwhile the last goon would have to defend herself from her sword arm. Admittedly, she was never the best at pure swordsmanship, but she was hardy and could keep up with multiple opponents trying to wear her down. Those were the reasons Dobermann trained her as a Defender.
But as she beat back those three losers, five other guys used the distraction to run around her, before dashing up the staircase like men on fire.
The Defender swore up a storm. She couldn't turn and chase them, though, not if she wanted a knife in the back.
The children heard footsteps.
They were faint at first, almost as if you've just imagined them. Then, they grew louder and louder.
"There are people coming up here!"
"Are they the Operator people?" yelled another.
"M-Maybe they're going up to tell us that Reunion is all gone!" said one of the students, bursting with impossible hope.
Zima, meanwhile, had a bad feeling about this.
"Hold up!" she said.
"Huh?"
"Zima?"
Anna turned to the rest of the students.
"Did you all forget what we've shed so much blood to learn in Peterheim? Always assume the worst." she said, in a tone that sent chills down Wally's spine.
Finally. They finally got past those assholes with the shields. It took so many of them just to capture one floor, especially when the enemy had those monsters on their side.
But this was necessary. All of it was necessary. All of society, top-to-bottom, was rotten. Each and every person, in their own special way, propagated the abuse of the Infected. From the gulag guards beating their prisoners half-dead, to the noble elite holding their swanky balls and discussing how to best squeeze even more money and labour from their majority-infected working class, to the middle class who smiled and nodded at every erosion of Infected rights just so that they can keep their ugly bourgeoisie homes and not have to look at their kind so often.
They all deserved a long, painful death.
The moment they stepped into the room, the Reunion troops were ambushed on all sides by students with very sharp objects.
A terrified Nadja stuck her foot out, and tripped a goon that was rushing in.
Suddenly faced with a Reunion goon that was right on top of him, Wally punched him in the nether regions, causing him to yell out and fall over.
"Wh-What's going on down there!?" asked Gummy, clutching her "shield" and frying pan very closely.
"Our saviors' glorious defense has failed miserably, it seems." said the blue-haired girl, throwing down a spell at one corner of the room, to finish off a downed opponent. Wally frowned, but he was barely in a shape to do anything at the moment.
Suddenly, another shadow appeared in the doorway.
The children yelled.
A student charged towards the door. He would've stabbed whoever was entering, if Wally hadn't grabbed his arm and pulled him away at the last moment.
"Whoah, whoah, it's me, kids!" said Blaze, holding her hands up.
"Jeez, don't scare us like that, lady!" said Wally. "Did you know what we had to deal with before you came?"
"Yes, and I'm sorry." she said. "But we don't have enough time. We have to get to the rooftop, now." she said, nearly tearing the door off its hinges.
"The rooftop!? The hell are we going to do once we reach the fucking rooftop?" asked Zima. "Jump off?!"
"Wait for rescue. Now move!"
The initial plan, Ms. Blaze told him, was to sneak out of this city without notice. They were supposed to put some distance between themselves and the city centre, before reaching an old and mostly forgotten industrial area to the south. Once there, they should be safe enough to call for a vehicle and wait.
And then they got chased down.
The only way out now was to buy time until rescue arrived in another form. Whatever form it might take. They were too busy holding off the enemy to get into details then, but he was told to simply buy as much time as possible.
For Aqualad, that was the best that he could possibly hope for in this situation.
Within this mess of a battle, Kaldur came across Ms. Skadi, when he got separated from his Team in the heat of the melee.
Wordlessly, they began to clear the rooms on this level of the building.
A handful of minutes later, they were travelling along a hallway when Reunion troops charged at them from both ends. Not that it would have helped much.
His back towards Skadi, Aqualad analyzed the enemies currently before him. Two swordsmen, and one crossbowman, the latter content to stand back and take potshots if he saw an opening.
He lashed his whip at the legs of the nearest opponent, who was charging like a berserker. He fell, his forward momentum sliding him along the floor. Swiftly turning on his heels, the shape of Aqualad's water-whip smoothly contracted into a water-blade. He used it to block the downward swing of the other attacker.
With an act of minor thaumatology, he willed the water making up his blade to break their shape. His sword flowed around his enemy's sword before solidifying around it. Stunned, the enemy swordsman didn't react as Aqualad pulled his upper body down. The pain of Kaldur's rising knee was the last thing the Reunion grunt felt, before all went black.
Aqualad tossed the swordsman's unconscious body at the feet of the crossbow-user. His shots paused, buying the Atlantean enough time to spread out his water-sword into a water-shield. He then charged the bolt-tosser head-on, knocking him out with an honest shield thrust. The aquatic shield then shifted back into the form of whips, before he gracefully retracted the water back into storage.
All this happened within the span of a few seconds.
Skadi, meanwhile, just swung at her foes. Sometimes, the lucky ones would get hit by its broad side and end up knocked out from sheer concussive force. The unlucky ones got hit with the sharp end, and ended up bisected in various bloody configurations.
Aqualad tried hard not to look at Skadi's side of the hall.
Skadi, meanwhile, was watching his hydrokinesis with one eye.
It could just be her imagination, but several parts of his Arts seemed very familiar to Skadi. Indeed, certain aspects of his Arts reminded her of certain Arts of her old home.
Skadi turned to her fellow Aegir, as he was on the lookout for any more enemies heading in their direction.
"I wish for you and me to speak after this." she said.
After twitching in surprise, Aqualad considered her request, and nodded. "Perhaps after we have successfully exfiltrated. For now, the priority is defending the children and buying time."
"..."
After a few moments, Skadi absent-mindedly nodded.
Immediately after that, she felt a tiny stinging sensation at the small of her back.
She turned around, and saw another Reunion mook attempting to stab her in the back. His blade broke instead.
Picking him up by the head, she casually tossed him away, throwing him hard enough to break through the window on the far side of the hall.
"..."
Aqualad was about to make a comment among the lines of That was completely unnecessary, before shutting his mouth.
The ocean water was chill, clear, and fresh. It was home.
Yet, thoughts of their loved ones were not on the minds of King Om and Kaldur'ahm, better known on the surface world as Aquaman and Aqualad.
Aquaman looked back at his protege.
Though Aqualad was looking ahead, Aquaman could see that he was not entirely there. The kicks of his legs were erratic, and his fists were constantly clenching and unclenching.
Aquaman knew what he was likely thinking about.
The Joker had struck again. He had gone on a little "vacation" in Hawaii, deciding to spread his own brand of chaos over there in a tacky flower-print shirt. Such an action was so unprecedented that it blindsided even Batman.
Before Aquaman and Aqualad could intervene, he had already gassed an entire neighborhood of Honolulu.
By the time he was restrained, it was taking every ounce of Aqualad's self-control not to shove a blade through the madman's neck.
"..."
Aquaman said nothing, as he watched his sidekick. Looking forward, he veered away from the path they were on, towards a group of tall boulders in the distance.
"My liege?"
Swimming over to one of the tallest spires, he sat down, motioning Aqualad towards the second-tallest.
"Come sit with me, Aqualad." he said. Aqualad did so.
"Before we continue any further, I want to speak about something with you."
"Yes, my king?"
After a few moments of consideration, Aquaman asked him this:
"Tell me, my squire, why do we fight?"
Aqualad seemed somewhat taken aback by this question. He took a few moments before responding:
"Why, to fight and defeat evildoers, my king! To ensure that no innocent soul will be threatened by their machinations! That is why we fight, sir."
Aquaman hummed.
"I see you're still stuck in the mind of that eager cadet boy. The one who made top of his battle group at the tender age of thirteen. You're thinking too much like a soldier, my boy."
It took Aqualad a few moments to digest that..
"... But what is truly so terrible about that, my king? As we are engaged in combat much of the time, isn't it appropriate to have the mindset of a soldier when carrying out missions like this? Missions whose results could spell life or death for many?"
"... I have fought alongside surface-world soldiers before. Alongside human marines and commandos. And I've always respected their honour and tenacity, even if I knew they would not hesitate to end my life in an instant, if they thought I was a threat. Because I knew I would do the same, if the safety of my people were at stake."
Aqualad's fists tightened, until tiny streams of blood came trickling up between his fingers.
"Then why-"
"Because in the surface world, whenever we call ourselves "Aquaman" and "Aqualad", we do not fight in the capacity of soldiers. Rather, we fight in the capacity of Heroes."
"... I fail to see the difference." Kaldur shot back, in a tone that was more confrontational than he intended. Certainly more forceful than is appropriate for addressing a king. Aqualad froze as he realised his faux pas, but Aquaman ignored it.
"Well, firstly, there are practical realities we have to face. Whenever we are on the surface world, we are guests in a foreign land, and so we must respect the laws of our host whenever we are there. And in most nations of the surface world, going out and seeking to fight criminals without being yourself an officer of the law is a crime. And remember Aqualad, I am not just some warrior from the depths of the ocean."
"... You are the king of Atlantis, sir."
"Exactly. What message does it send about our people to the surface-landers, if their king were to just traipse into another's land, breaking their laws and killing those he deemed vile by his own judgement?"
"... I am sorry, I did not think of such things before now…"
King Om smiled. "Do not be so hard on yourself. Young warriors rarely grasp the deeper implications of their actions… though let us go back to the concept of sending a message, Aqualad. Our non-lethal ways are not merely one of political convenience. Many of my fellow Leaguers represent nobody but themselves, yet they still persist in avoiding death by any means necessary."
"... My king?"
Aquaman's face was deadly serious now. When he spoke, Aqualad sat up and listened.
"The mantle of "Hero" is not just something held up by martial ability, but by moral conviction as well. It takes strength, Aqualad, to spare even those who want nothing more than to take your head off at that moment. Strength to trust in the fundamental goodness of people, and the possibility that they may be better. Being a Hero is not just about having the strength to defeat your enemies and protect people, it is also about upholding a message. That there are better ways in this world than bloodshed. That all life is precious. That everyone deserves a new chance in life."
Aquaman took a moment to look his protege in the eyes.
"Being a Hero is being a symbol of hope for a better world, and a better future. I hope you will understand, Kaldur. If not today, then I hope someday. Make sure you think it over."
"... Yes, my king. I will."
"Good. Now let us return home."
As Aqualad gained experience, both in combat and in the wider ways of the world, he has started to appreciate the value of the deathless path.
Yet, even with his newfound mantra not to take a single life, he knew that most other warriors did not hold to this same standard. They held it as a given that there was no worth in putting in the effort to spare an enemy's life, if they did not also grant you the same courtesy.
Aqualad understood their point of view. He was one of them, not too long ago.
The oath of non-lethality was a standard maintained as an expression of what a Hero is meant to be, not because it made them better than other people. That was what he believed.
So in the end, Aqualad kept quiet, for it was not his business to dictate how others were to fight.
"..."
… However, he still believed there was a line between killing in the heat of battle, and killing wantonly. Aqualad looked at the woman named Skadi, and narrowed his eyes.
He wasn't willing to put all his trust in these people. Not until they proved themselves to be trustworthy.
Everyone was on the rooftop now.
The snipers of the group perched themselves on top of the air-conditioning units. Meanwhile, Defenders were at the chokepoints in-between, waiting for the enemy.
The first wave came as a steady stream, and were very easily sniped.
Then they came again. And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
"Are we sure they're people, and not zombies!?" Artemis yelled, doing her best impression of a WWI-era Vickers machine gun. Accuracy mattered less than sheer volume of fire now, keeping away waves of troops that were moments away from drowning them in bodies.
She had a point. This was already well past the point where most criminals (even the super-criminals back in their home world) would have long-since given up. But no, they were still throwing themselves into the grinder like there was nothing better for them to do in life.
There were now heaps of fallen bodies on the rooftop now. Enough that those who came after were using them as sandbags against the Sniper's constant fire. Using this, they got fractionally closer and closer to the Operator's side of the rooftop, which was shrinking with each wave.
"Before we all die, I just want to make this clear: I fucking hate all you people's guts." Zima said, as she hacked the legs of a goon who had somehow bypassed all the shields and arrows to charge directly at the students.
Then, hearing a loud noise behind them, the survivors of Peterheim turned around. They saw Reunion troops on jetpacks, who had landed right next to them.
The students screamed.
It was all over now.
And then...
"Apple Pie!"
*BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*
"What the fuck is that!? What the fuck!?"
Reunion could out only shout and point, as a helicopter emblazoned with Rhodes Island's logo started hovering over the rooftop. A mounted gatling gun cut them down with more firepower than any of them had ever seen in their lives.
The gunner was a red-headed Sankta woman that looked like she was having the time of her life. Beside her, a young Caprinae girl wielding a staff chanted arcane words. She waved her staff, unleashing a torrent to flame unto whoever survived the gatling gun.
Robin and Wally realised what was going on, and were motioning the children to move.
"Make space! Make space!"
"That chopper needs space to land, people! Brace yourselves!"
Strong winds billowed out from the chopper blades, as the aircraft descended. The back of the helicopter opened, and a ramp slammed into the rooftop.
"Move! Move! Children first! Children first!"
The students went in first. Then, the young superheroes (but only after a bit of forceful cajoling from the Operators), and then the Rhodes Island Operators who were most wounded.
Those Operators still in combat got in last. As they entered, they turned and shot at the Reunion troops coming at them from all sides, holding them off as the helicopter rose into the sky.
The door finally closed, and they all collapsed to the floor, exhausted. Wally held on to Nadja as she was shaking.
"You're alright, you're safe now… We're safe now… Everything's alright… Everything's alright…"