PART 3: MADE IN HEAVEN

But if you fall and take a tumble, it won't be far

If you feel you must crumble, thank your lucky stars

Just savor every mouthful and treasure every moment

When the storm is raging round you, stay right where you are

Chapter 12: DON'T TRY SO HARD

"Cyborg!" Robin declared, throwing on his mask and running towards the hulking figure. "Cyborg, what's happened to you?" He was sitting in the center of the darkened fifth floor, not moving a muscle. On closer inspection, that was likely because there was no longer a muscle to move. If this really was Cyborg, something had happened to him. Every bit and piece of organic material had been removed. He stood there, unmoving, like a statue, his body a shining black substance. Lines of glowing red ran through-out it, and upon approaching, the robotic figure lit up and its eyes, both bright red, turned to look at the intruder.

"Robin," a mechanized voice said. "Former Teen Titan. Presumed dead."

"A guy can't sleep anymore," Robin explained, "I'm alive and well! See?" He moved towards Cyborg, looking nervous. "What happened here?" The mechanical monster just whirred to life, its arms moving upwards, and its gaze steadily examining his vital signs.

"Target acquired. Pursuit in progress." The fists came down with a mighty sound and tore the floor open. Robin jumped into the air, landing behind the monstrous robot, and looked him over.

"That wasn't very nice," Robin said. "You're not Cyborg, are you?" The form just turned around, and with a surprising burst of speed courtesy of powerful rocket boosters, it tackled Robin to the ground. "Definitely not Cyborg." Robin searched his form for his equipment, only to find that he'd been stripped of his utility belt. "Not good!"

The slow movements of the robot calmed Robin a bit. It seemed that he couldn't use his boost in short intervals. He'd have to use this to his advantage. He looked around for some kind of advantage he could press. The fifth floor was practically barren, and it was five floors from the bottom so jumping out a window without any utilities wasn't exactly the safest option. He'd need to find a way to the first floor without getting himself killed. "Hey! Bolts-for-brains!" Robin called. This caused a reaction in the robot, who raised his hands and fired a burst of machine-gun fire. Robin ducked for cover, barely making it out of that attack.

The robotic sentry Cyberion continued its rampage, moving slowly towards where Robin had hid himself. Robin however, was beginning to make preparations for a counter attack. Robin began to pry open a door, hoping to find something he could use as a weapon, and he succeeded in the nick of time to duck in and avoid another round of gunfire that tore across the hall.

Robin was breathing heavily. Whoever had placed this thing here had been expecting him. BC. "Where's a guy going to find an electro-magnetic pulse when he needs one!" Robin whined. Then a thought struck him. "Oh, right, my souvenirs." He just had to find a way to slow down Cyberion.

Ducking out of the room, he found the arsenal of the robotic Cyberion trained on him. Without batting an eyelash, he ran, the various weaponry creating a good deal of damage to the wall and caused the foundation of the tower to shake. Weaving about on his way to the stairs, Robin didn't notice the variety of camera lenses that aimed on him.

Around the world people were watching them. Their faces lighted up with hope as he dodged the deadly attacks Cyberion raged. All the while, a narrative followed, read by BC, who watched the events himself with a great degree of glee. "And he survived that one! Wow, what a close call. But let's see if Cyberion's going to take that kind of talk."

There was the sound of some parts moving, and Cyberion launched at Robin with a boost. "No!" BC laughed, "And Robin's down for the count. I think that's a wrap!" There was rubble about Robin, but he had somehow managed to avoid any serious injuries. He threw some of the rubble aside, realizing that the robotic menace was probably standing there, guns waiting to fire at him. "What's this? Robin's still alive? This is amazing. It's been a while since we've seen Cyberion in action, so let's take a look at the stats! Cyberion is the ultimate killing machine. Infrared censors make it so you can run but you can't hide, and the latest in technological enhancements all rummaged from STAR Labs. This thing can cause Cold Wars! But I would be remiss if I don't remind you of his finest ability."

Robin found himself emerging from the rubble and into a series of mechanical tendrils. They wrapped around his legs and arms, and slowly began to merge closer and closer to his skin. "What the--?"

"The Technis Imperative likes to include those that survive long enough to join the regular cast! And here's how," BC narrated to the home audience. "By causing a mechanical surface to join with the skin and connecting to the nerve-ends, those that survive the painful merging process will eventually begin to have their brain assimilated into the collective mind of the Technis." He laughed, "Jean-Luc Picard, eat your heart out!"

Robin struggled against the mechanical tendrils that began to move closer and closer to his chest. "Get off!" he struggled. He felt the shock as the metal brought itself closer to his nerves. However, before he could scream, the pain was brought to a close as the fearsome Cyberion was lifted clear off of his feet and thrown to the side.

"Are you okay?" a woman's voice asked. "I came as fast as I could. I'm lucky you're trained for survival." He could barely make out her face in the darkness.

"Who are you?"

"You can call me Troia."

"No fair! Cheating!" BC whined. "She shouldn't have been there! Make her go away! Make her go away!" There was a gust of wind and suddenly a familiar crimson blur was standing with Khashoggi in his grasp. Something was different about the Flash's stance. It was hunched over and mindless, reminiscent of a zombie. "Oh, good. You must be Mr. Khashoggi of the Hive Academy. A pleasure to meet you."

Khashoggi dusted himself off, moving towards BC angrily, "You there! What do you think you're doing? Polluting the world with your face and your attitude!" He looked quite vehement, "I swear, I will do something to you for this."

"Khashoggi! My friend, sit with me!" BC said, oblivious to the tirade. He sat down, mid-air, and looked at Khashoggi, who remained standing. "Or stand, same to me in the end. So, Mr. Khashoggi, I hear from a reliable source that you're a bit of a producer."

"If the mood takes me," he said, "And it doesn't."

"What if I told you that I would grant your heart's desire and make you king of the seas. You'd control everything and everyone on the seas. People would come to fear you like no other!" Khashoggi looked contemplative, and that pleased BC. "Come on, you know you want to!"

"I don't know," Khashoggi said, his anger subsiding, "Only if I have complete control over casting." BC seemed contemplative.

"I want to host."

"No," Khashoggi said, "You shouldn't host!" His face screamed out in protest. "For the love of all that is sacred, you shouldn't host."

"Why not?" BC asked, angrily.

"Because," Khashoggi said, swinging swiftly into a sales talk, "You're too important. You should be something a bit more subtle, a bit more revered. You should leave the menial hosting task to a young lady, a pretty one."

"I have just the one in mind!" BC said, bringing out the struggling Lilith. "Pretty, isn't she? Red-heads aren't my thing, though."

"Quite," Khashoggi said, drolly. "Now, we need to consider our stars." He looked at the show on at the current time. "Call off that robot." BC muttered to himself, aside, about the instruction, and dawdled about slowly. "I have a better idea."

"What idea's that?" BC asked, eagerly. "What idea? Huh? Huh?"

"Two words," Khashoggi smiled. "Titans. Hunt."

"Okay, Troia," Robin said, "I have an idea how to deal with this thing. We need to get an EMP pulse. I had one equipped on one of my old uniforms, but I didn't think I'd need it until about five minutes ago." The dark haired Amazon in the star-plane leotard looked to Robin briefly, hoisting up her bagging red pants.

"Of course, Robin," Troia said. "I can distract this thing. You get upstairs."

"Thanks," Robin said, jumping towards the stairway. "I'll be back in a jiffy." She defended herself against the coming assault. It lurched to life and shot a volley of bullets in her direction. With expert timing, she repelled them all on her bracer. It was a close call, as some of the bullets repelled close to her face, and a small lock of hair fell to the ground as one whizzed past her ear. She was beginning to wonder if trusting the boy to be back quick was wrong. And lo, to Troia's surprise, though it could have merely been the sensation of time moving faster as her life flashed before her eyes, he held to the promise.

"What took you so long?" she asked with a smile on her face. He didn't respond immediately, merely throwing the disc towards Cyberion, short circuiting it with a simple thrust. "Nice shot."

"Thanks," Robin said. "What was that?"

"That was Cyberion, one of the Technis Imperative's best hunters."

"The what?" Robin asked. "How long have I been out?"

"A lot can happen in three days," Troia said, "We were worried that you weren't ever going to show up again. And you should have seen the look on my face when BC announced you on the Technis Imperative."

"You make it sound like some kind of television program," Robin said. He ran a hand through his hair, with a noticeable air of irritation. "Can I ask you something?"

"It is," Troia said absently, "And go right on ahead. We can get on with introductions when we get out of here."

"How did you find me?"

"As I said," Troia joked, "I saw you on TV." She sighed, and led him along to a rope that had been hoisted to the fifth floor. They climbed down it. It wriggled dangerously as they reached the bottom, and Robin finally saw the damage up close. It was struck down intentionally, like a child toppling over his enemy's treasured sand castle. "Robin, since you've been gone things have gone to, well, to Hell! Every hero who tried to go against the Black Cat has fallen without any real fight. It's horrible. We're forced to watch as people become sport for him. The Technis Imperative is merely one of the hundred channels that he sends out from the Tower."

Memories stirred in Robin, as he looked at the broken Titans Tower. He remembered the stories that Starfire had told him about the future. He just stared at the Tower's remains. "Robin?" Troia asked. She didn't get a response, so she tried again, more emphatically. "Robin!"

"Troia, do you know a place a guy could make a new costume around here?" She looked at his old costume and shrugged.

"I don't see what's wrong with it?"

"You wouldn't. Fancy look, by the way." She blushed, looking a bit angry. "It's a personal thing. I've been through a lot."

"I have my hideout in town. But it's a bit out of the way. Come on." She led him through the town, which was deathly empty. No one dared tempt fate, as hundreds of demonic hunters were seeking out the prey for the day's entertainment. The voice of BC could be heard reciting the news. Death numbers were startlingly high, causing Robin to feel his heartstrings being pulled.

Responsibility. They had all failed and it hurt to see the city they had tried to protect so in ruins.

"It's down this alley," Troia said, dragging him around the corner with a surprising strength. He found himself rubbing his wrist after she let go. She noticed, and with a faint nod she apologized. "It's all we have left in this city. Anyone, really." She moved a dumpster out of the way and jumped down a hole that had been found there. Robin followed, hesitating for a moment. He found himself having only dropped a few feet. "Watch your head." She ducked down low and made her way down a door in the wall. It looked makeshift.

"What is this place?"

"It's the old warehouse. It looks pretty much abandoned after the earthquakes hit. Through a bit of hacking, we managed to convince BC that this wall has always been here, and that there isn't a basement level. Thankfully, he hasn't searched, yet. You go on ahead." She turned to get the dumpster. Robin walked forward, looking down the staircase that spiraled down to the lair.

"Impressive."

"Isn't it?" Troia asked. "It was Babs' idea." This brought a reaction from Robin, but he disguised it by leaning against the wall for support. "Said she had gotten the idea from some rich guy's secret passages."

"You don't say," Robin muttered. The makeshift base was a strong one, with computers and television sets put together to keep surveillance on the enemy, a task made all the more simple by the fact that his face barely ever left the television screen. "He sure loves attention."

"Believe me, it's not cute," Troia said. "We've been dealing with his perverse toys for only three days and people are afraid to leave their houses because of them. You adapt quickly when your life is on the line."

"I know," Robin said. "Excuse me. I need to get to work."

"Hold on there, cowboy. Who are you, exactly?" Troia said.

"Who am I?" Robin asked, "Do you really want to know?"

Troia laughed, "Protective of your identity?" She extended a hand, "My name's Donna. Donna Troy."

Robin paused, and then answered, with calm assurance, "Richard. I can't tell you any more than that. I have my reasons, trust me." He looked around. "Do you mind if I...?"

"Go ahead," Troia sighed. "You're oh so mysterious, you know that? Lighten up, Richard. Roy said you were up-tight, I just didn't believe how much." Robin turned to look at her.

"Who's Roy?"

"You know him as Arsenal, or Speedy, whatever he feels like calling himself," she said. There was a distant, vague, sadness to her voice. She was grieving. "He's been my eyes and ears, while I've been his brain." Robin shrugged, nonchalant, and began to look around for some things. He began to work, surprisingly nimble with a thread and a thimble, on an outfit. "What are you doing?"

"Making a new costume, like I said."

"I meant more of, what are you doing that for?" Troia recovered. She looked a bit embarrassed. "I know the costume's colors aren't the best for stealth, but that's just more a testament to your skill. You're second only to Batman." She took out a case of CDs, and placed one in, "You mind Dio?" He shrugged, and she pushed it in. Robin let the heavy rock music drown out all distractions, as he placed a blue insignia on a black leotard.

"Nightwing, huh? Well, Star, this one's for you."

Now dubbed Nightwing, he sat in silence in the hiding hole. It was small, but there were about thirty people, likely rescued from a similar fate as himself. He looked at one, who shied away from his glance, much to his surprise. "Can you blame them," Donna said, sitting down next to them, "You were their protector, but you didn't save them. You have faith you have to rebuild."

"I will," he said, "I have to." Donna smiled. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason. It's just from all I've heard about your mentor we have a leader we can trust."

"Leader?" Nightwing asked.

"We need one, Richard," Donna begged. "We need you!" The memories were still too recent. Nightwing turned her down. He did it gently, by walking away without a word. "You can't leave! Richard, wait! Wait!" He just picked up the pace.

He didn't know why he left. He just had to avoid it. He was afraid of losing control again. Afraid of becoming like the crazies he had fought back. He needed space. So he ran into the city, trying to find something to ease his troubled mind. He didn't need to protect anyone, all he needed to do was fight.

And a fight wasn't too hard to find. There were signs around town mocking him -- Come to the Circus, they said -- and they had risen enough ire that he decided to investigate what these signs meant. They were new, there wasn't a tear on them and they surrounded broken and burnt buildings, legacies of what had ravaged the world not so long ago.

The circus was indeed in town. Set up in the middle of town was a big tent, and the banners flew announcing that they were open and ready to entertain. It just didn't feel right. He climbed up a wall and leapt from building to crushed building with the ease of a master of the high-wire.

Slade Wilson's cell was dank and uncomfortable, like all cells for such a capacity. He was used to it, but his younger cellmate was definitely unused to such horrible treatment. He walked up to her, as close as he could with the shackles on his feet, and kneeled besides her. "Are you all right?" Little Lilith's head rose at the call.

"I'm hungry."

"Have my rations," Slade said. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," she murmured. "Sixteen at the end of the month."

"Happy Birthday then," Slade said, his voice never changing from the careful calculated tone. "We have to escape from here. We can't stay here much longer. They're giving us less and less food."

"I don't know if I can," she said. She looked at the shackles, "These are too strong." Slade broke hers with the greatest of ease. "At least, I thought they were."

"Don't worry about it." There was the clinking of a chain outside the door, and Lilith gasped sharply in fear. Slade merely broke his shackle and prepared to attack. The door opened, and the wretched Raven appeared, carrying a comparative feast for the occupants. She seemed to notice the broken shackles but made no move to stop them.

"Food, our hostess needs to be healthy," she said. "You are on in ten minutes. I wouldn't advise escape. This is the safest place in the world right now."

"I think we'd be happier outside," Slade said. He balled his hands into a fist. "And I'd recommend you help us if you want to live."

"I can't," she said, "But I won't stop you. I just don't advise you." Lilith reached out for Raven.

"Can't you do something instead of just --" she looked for the word, "Exist? Please!" Their skin touched and a vague sense of color reached Raven's cheek. It recoiled in fear. "Raven!"

"Don't... touch me..." she said. "Please, just do what the master wishes. If you do that, we can end all this and let your friends just die in peace."

"They won't die!" Lilith said. Slade put a hand on her shoulder, motioning for her to silence without a word being spoken. She questioned him with a glance and he merely shook his head. "I'm staying, then."

"Why?" Slade asked.

"You may be needed out there," Lilith said, "But I know I'm needed here." She looked confidently at Raven. "I know it."

The Circus was a horrible affair. There were people being shot at with arrows, and the striking accuracy of the archer was the only reason that they were even alive. There were people being forced to climb the high-wire, and without the innate balance of a professional, they soon fell to the floor. Whatever demented creature had done this was certainly laughing his head off at the blood and carnage his show had created.

The strong man, a monster of a man, had just begun to lift the audience over his head when a figure in black descended from the high wire and kicked him in the head. The man-monster Mammoth turned to roar, but the man was already above him, descending with a bicycle kick. "Ugh, fast man," he muttered. He ran towards the man with his shoulder out to ram, but the man had leapt behind him and latched himself to his back. From the corner of his eyes he could see the eyes of the man were carefully hidden behind a mask.

He tried to wrest the man off his back. "Why do you wear a mask?" Mammoth asked, curiously, "Were you scarred by acid or something?"

"Oh," the man said, "No. They're just terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future." The man held on for dear life, trying to avoid the controlled Mammoth's movements and hold on. Sooner or later, the air would run out. Who said you couldn't learn anything from the 80s? Eventually, Mammoth found himself keeling over to one knee.

Then the man was knocked off by a green elephant trunk.

"Oh no," the man muttered, "Beast Boy." The elephant morphed into the young boy, who moved towards him with a sort of strange hypnotic expression. He contorted into a velociraptor, coming at him with the terrifying talons. The man dodged to the side, riding on the back of the beast, avoiding its snapping jaws. "Stop it, man!"

The raptor shifted into a Stegosaur, forcing the masked wonder off of its back. It began to play a deadly game of jump-rope with its tail, the man forced to dodge around the spikes. "Hey, over here!" Mammoth said, grabbing the creature's neck. As it switched through creatures, it found itself becoming more and more asphyxiated. The masked man just watched in awe.

"Why are you helping me?"

"I don't like it here," Mammoth said. "And I guess when I was passing out my brain kind of kicked in." A stream of arrows rained down on the two of them. They jumped to the side. "Uh oh."

"Arsenal, too?" the masked man asked. "When will this end?"

"Who are you, anyway?" Mammoth asked. "I don't think I saw you before?"

"Name's Nightwing." He jumped into the air, weaving midair around the slew of arrows that were fired at him. Mammoth recognized the movement, but it seemed more sleek and smooth in the strange costume of Nightwing. The archer, Arsenal, found himself under fire by several discs that exploded with a bright flash, leaving him unable to see the fist coming down at him.

Arsenal was tossed to the side, but he wasn't knocked out. He just got to his feet again and fired three trick arrows at once. Whirling blades emerged from each of their tips. Nightwing ducked under them and ran at Arsenal. They exchanged a few strikes, Nightwing having taken out his bo and Arsenal using his bow as a weapon, before more arrows were sent flying at Nightwing.

He threw more discs, and climbed one of the poles. The projectiles collided, causing a massive explosion. Arsenal was blown clear back.

"It just doesn't quit!" Changeling yelled. "Hey, where am I?"

"Shut it," Mammoth said, "There's a fight going on."

"A fight?" Changeling muttered, "How long have I been out?"

The two were once again at blows. The bow and bo were no longer in their hands, but they fought viciously with fists. There were no words, Nightwing knew they'd be a waste on the brainwashed Arsenal, and there was no arrogant showboating. It was just a simple fight between two men. "This is neat," Changeling said. "But why are they fighting?"

"Because stuff," Mammoth said.

"That's deep," Changeling answered. "Maybe we should help?" There was a particularly vicious blow laid on Arsenal, "Or maybe not." The archer was buffeted from blow to blow, and much to his surprise his eyes snapped out of their haze in time to feel the most painful punch he had ever felt.

"Hey!" Arsenal yelled, "What was that for?"

There was another particularly mean kick, "Because you hit me!" Nightwing answered. "Is that anyway to repay me?"

"Who are you?"

"Don't recognize me?" he laughed. "My hair's grown out a bit, and the costume's new, but I thought you'd recognize the style."

"Robin?" Arsenal murmured, "You're alive?"

"I could say the same about you," Nightwing laughed. "It's good to see you all. Even Mammoth."

Televisions shot to life. The logo of the Titans Hunt television program, the famous T was superimposed by a bloody H, appeared on screen before being delegated to the right-most corner. A familiar, pretty redhead appeared in front of an empty black mass of a background.

Her face was distraught, but with careful rehearsal, she managed to maintain a happy and careful persona. "And as you can see, ladies and gentlemen, the mysterious marvel known as Nightwing has already managed to free two of his friends!" Lilith gave a vapid smile and they moved to a replay.

"Wow," Roy muttered, "You have gotten better."

"Lilith!" Changeling cried. "What's she doing on that show?"

"Nothing. Come on, we need to move."

"I want to see this," Arsenal answered, "Look at that! You just, wow, how did you do that?"

"There are certain things you can do when you're dead," Nightwing answered cryptically. He freed several people and there was a large stampede out of the big top. Nightwing frowned.

"Who died and made you the Batman?" Changeling muttered. This cause Nightwing to pause. "Sorry," Changeling murmured in response.

"What's the big rush?" Arsenal asked.

"You're free to come along, too, Mammoth," Nightwing said, "We could use an extra set of hands."

"Er," Mammoth said, "I don't think that'd be smart."

"Your call," Nightwing answered. Leaving Mammoth behind, they moved on. Beast Boy merely lingered a minute before he heard Nightwing say, "Come on."

"I'm still waiting for some answers," Arsenal said, quietly.

"I, er, I don't think I'm coming either," Changeling said. "I got things. Things I got to do. Yeah."

"Fine," Nightwing answered.

"Don't you care? Hey, what happened to our kind and compassionate leader?" Changeling asked. "Anyway. I'm gone. Yeah. Don't try and stop me."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

Changeling stormed out. "That was a bit mean," Arsenal answered.

"Why do you think that?" Nightwing asked. There was a grin on his lips, "Beast Boy was always the more dependant of the team. You can't stop them from leaving the nest."

"Your bird mentality must have made you a hit."

"One too many run ins with the Penguin's thugs," Nightwing replied. "He's got his mission, we've got ours."

"And that is?"

"Recover a staff and kill the devil," Nightwing answered. "I recall us doing the impossible before. I don't think this will be all that different." He looked around, "You can come out now, there's nothing left here to be afraid of."

"--and there's a thousand dollar bounty on the heads of Garfield Logan and Roy Harper upon confirmation of their death. And for the big leaguers, a sixty million dollar bounty of the one who can find and bring Dick Grayson in -- dead or alive."

"Great, tell the world my identity."

"Dick Grayson, huh?" Troia said, emerging from her hiding space.

"Great, you saw that?"

"No, you just told me," she smirked.

"Donna?" Arsenal ventured. Donna turned and looked at Roy, and in a breath embraced him. "Hey, missed you too."

"I didn't know if you were dead or alive!" her grip became vice-like, "Do that again and I'll kill you. I'll kill you real good!" Roy laughed and returned the embrace tightly. Nightwing smiled vaguely. "Hey, are you jealous over there?" she broke off her embrace from Roy and gave Nightwing a big squeeze as well.

"Ow!" Nightwing said, "Hey, thanks for the concern, but I was thinking of someone else."

"Turning down a hug from a beautiful woman?" Arsenal asked. With a laugh, he punched Nightwing jokingly in the shoulder, "Maybe you really are gay."

"Oh, I don't think so," Troia laughed. "All right boys. Let's go."

"Where to?" Roy asked.

"Back to HQ," she answered. "So we can find the whereabouts of this staff and get some supplies for our trip."

"I know where to begin our search," Nightwing answered. "The Hive Academy for Extraordinary Young People."

"And I know where that is," Arsenal said. "So, anyone up for a road trip?" Nightwing just gaped at Arsenal. "Hey, you take after Batman, I take after Green Arrow. Problem?"

"There'll be more updates every hour on the hour," Lilith said.

"And cut!" Khashoggi said. "Beautiful. You've got it! You've got that photogenic innocence, that pretty smile. Babe, stick with me and you'll go far!" He leapt from his chair and looked around the set. "But this just has to go."

"But I like the black swirly background!" BC whined.

"It doesn't look good. And look at her," Khashoggi said, "With a girl like that, you don't need swirly blackness." Lilith didn't know how to react, these two villains were arguing over how best to film her. It was almost flattering. The mangled Raven walked up to the two with a tray of hor d'eorves and drinks, and they took it from her without a second thought. The two of them continued their argument as Raven moved over to her.

"Hi," Lilith said. Raven didn't say anything. She took a deformed hand and brushed up the make up, "Thanks." She whispered, softly, to Raven, pleadingly, "Raven, please let me help you."

"I don't want to feel. I am content," she said. "In as much as I can be."

"Don't you want more?"

"I don't," Raven said.

"This wasn't going to be easy, I know, but you could at least try and meet me half way." Raven gave her a look with her gray eyes before waddling over, chains scraping the floor, to BC.

Brighton. It was in pieces. The seas brewed and the beaches were shoved against solid rock. "What happened here?" Changeling asked. Buildings had been leveled by powerful earthquakes and tornados. The school was in ruins, and whatever had been left of the population had already left.

"I don't even know why I came here now. What was I expecting?"

"And earlier today, the Titans were spotted approaching Massachusetts. Why they were going there, witnesses have yet to say, but the continuous loop of "Massachusetts" as performed by the Sex Pistols is expected to break down their resistance," Lilith's voice said. A radio was relaying the play-by-play.

"Lilith," he muttered, "Where are you?"

A song began to play on the radio. It was a song from long ago, and the melody echoed in his head. "We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when, but we'll meet again, some sunny day."

He ignored it, though the words echoed in his head. He headed to the one place he knew he could find answers. The Jupiter Building, which still remained in vaguely one piece. Perhaps someone was still there?

Changeling didn't know what answers he'd find as he changed into a bird and launched into the air.

Nightwing had decided they should stop for food, and they sat down with the eager rations they had brought and began to eat. "Do you think Changeling's going to be okay on his own?" Arsenal asked.

"Yes," Nightwing responded. "He can take care of himself. And so long as we keep quiet about where we're heading, we'll be able to arrive safe and sound before anything happens."

"Good," Arsenal said, "I want to get things back to some sense of normalcy."

"Nothing will ever be normal again," Nightwing responded. "People are dead, homes destroyed, we've witnessed the apocalypse, and now we just have to try and fix what we can."

"Oh," Arsenal said.

"Do you think this is really what the Book of Revelations said?"

"No," Nightwing answered. "We're at the crux of the problem, and he's not letting us stop. But, looking around, I think people would rather be dead than live in terror. Those monsters that come out at night. They're --"

"It's been four days," Troia said, "It's still a bit strange to see a quiet street being patrolled by those monsters. I just wish there was something we could do to keep them away from everyone."

"We can't save everybody," Nightwing answered.

"We can try!"

"We can try, sure, but we'll always fail," Nightwing answered. "Always." They became quiet, and the only sounds were those the wind made as it rushed through the empty streets. "Never thought I'd feel alone in a city."

They ate in quiet, until a small girl grabbed Troia's pant leg and tugged it. Troia kneeled down and talked to the girl, who without a word nodded and ran off. From the buildings, from every closed window emerged a face, afraid and tired, but still alive. They walked out of the safety of their homes and to the heroes, bearing food and other small supplies for them.

"We owe it to them," Troia said, resolutely.

Nightwing didn't respond.

The Jupiter Building had flickering lights and broken windows. It was something out of a horror movie. The aftermath of the destruction left the building barely recognizable. There were red splotches on the walls, making Changeling grimace as his imagination created images of innocent people, going about their business, being force against a wall, blood gushing from their head as they slipped down it again.

He didn't hear the sound of mechanical creatures moving down the hallway. He had already leapt out the window and let the wind currents take him to the top floor.

The city was dead. There wasn't any denying that. The world was dying all around him.

He wanted to scream. Landing on the rooftop, he transformed, and did just that. His voice echoed across the city and left its mark on the empty streets.

The sole survivor of the city heard it.

Their vehicle fell apart at the border to Rhode Island, but Harper had assured them that it wasn't too far to this school. So they followed his words, and walked. It began approaching night, and they counted five days into the disaster. Things were getting worse, but Troia kept a positive spin on everything, and Arsenal tried to keep Nightwing's moodiness in line.

They had begun to fall asleep when there was a distinct sound coming towards them. Windows broke and there was a loud crash in the distance. A sonic boom. There was only one thing that could cause that, now. "The Flash!" Troia said, launching into a defensive position. "Get ready!"

"What?" the boys asked, confused.

"The Flash," Troia explained, "Is under the same influences as the others in the circus. But whenever he came someone would be taken away to the Tower."

"The Tower?"

"The Tower where BC was," Arsenal explained. "There's just something wrong about it. So, if the Flash is coming."

"That means BC knows where we are," Nightwing finished. "We can't let him report back."

"No need to worry about that," Troia said. She brought her fist out straight to her side. The Flash suddenly hit the hand with a sudden force that would probably have tore off anyone else's arm. "Got that."

"Good eye," Arsenal complimented.

"Thank you!" she said with a bounce.

The Flash didn't spare a second to bounce back on his feet and return to his running. But Arsenal took up his bow and fired a shot at his leg with such speed that the Flash was barely five miles away. They ran over to where he landed. Nightwing whipped out his bo and put it around the Flash's neck, threatening to garrote.

"Don't move," he commanded.

"Er, guys?" the Flash asked, "What's going on exactly? I'm aching all over and I have a headache. Did I miss something fun?"

There had been a fog that descended on the city when Changeling descended. He now heard the robotic rumbling from inside the building and ducked into a side street. He walked along it, remembering the brief time he had been a hero here. It seemed all too brief. All to distant.

He wondered, though, what Robin must have felt like. To wake up and find himself not in paradise, but in Hell. The cold, emotionless face, the strange demeanor spoke volumes.

Had he died? It didn't make sense for him to come back from the grave, all Jesus style, but maybe that was the only explanation. Maybe he was a savior. Or maybe he was just a man. A man with a man's courage. He may have known that, but he knew that he could never fail.

The fog seemed thicker here, and he couldn't see beyond his hand. He stumbled a bit, before he got used to the streets and walked confidently towards something. He recognized this path.

The fog seemed to clear when he approached a building. A building, when he looked at it, was all too familiar to him. The Emerald Bar stood in pieces. Its chairs and tables littered the streets outside. A set was propped up, and sitting on it was a familiar masked figure. Haze. Jarrod Jupiter, the brother of Lilith, was sitting there, walking around. The fog, he presumed, to be an illusion caused by the mask. "Jarrod."

"Changeling. We meet again."

"Jarrod, what happened here?"

"Isn't that obvious? First came the storms. My father hurried to get us all out. Several choppers even managed to get out. How quaint. But then, mine didn't. You see, before we could take off, the earthquake hit."

"This place is on a fault line?"

"No, it isn't. But besides that, that wasn't the only strange thing. A landmass from under the ocean burst up, and we moved farther from the mainland. I'm sure you noticed. Everything seems backwards. Beaches face rocks and water appears on sheer cliffs."

"Dude, I've seen a guy wake from the dead and a mangy furry take over the world, I've seen everything."

"Ah," Jarrod said, with a laugh. He removed the mask, and the fog still remained. "Now, you've seen everything." He rose from his seat. "I'm sorry, Changeling, but that bounty is too important to me. With it I should be able to repair this city and finally take control. Now," a wave of energy washed over Changeling. "Shall we?"

"What?"

"I'm going to defeat you this time."

"You're sick, Jarrod!" Changeling yelled, pure hate in his voice.

"No, not anymore!" Jarrod laughed. His Haze persona definitely in control. His voice sounded deeper, his movements grander. Without a mask on, he had become Haze. Changeling followed suit.

"Hey, those freckles you have, or did you forget to get rid of acne?"

"Shut up!" Haze said, the streets filling with clouds of fire. Beast Boy transformed into a sparrow and flew around the clouds, descending on Haze with a quick roundhouse that was followed by him transforming into a rhinoceros. Haze found himself being thrown clear into a wall, but the wall became a cushion to him. "My illusion can trick anyone. Even me, into believing them." He laughed. However, that moment was all Beast Boy needed to attack.

He transformed into a skunk and created a stench that lingered in Haze. It distracted the amateur villain, and he didn't notice the green kangaroo bouncing onto its tail and bouncing back with a twin kick at him. He hit the wall with a crash, and the illusions began to die down.

Changeling picked up the unconscious Jarrod and began to walk. "So, there were survivors."

Then, he remembered the demons in the sky, and the strange winds that filled the air. No matter what they did, no matter what way they chose, they were doomed. He fell to his knees, Jarrod's weight suddenly too much for him to carry.

"No matter what I do, it doesn't even matter!"

The four travelers had talked well into the night about their experiences, and their new traveling companion felt more at ease with himself now that he knew where he had been for the past three days. Flash told a few jokes before settling into sleep, and Troia and Arsenal followed soon after.

Nightwing was the only one away as dawn slowly approached.

He had once imagined what it'd be like in the future. He remembered movies like Highlander 2 and Blade Runner, where the future was a dismal place where problems overwhelmed the people wihtin it. Where things were dark, and the only company they had was the stars.

Now, he stood in a world where he feared that it was very much the same. However eclipsed it may be, the sun still rose, and still gave off its light. With the shadow of the moon just touching it, the sun rose above them, and Nightwing smiled.

Changeling placed a broken, plastic flower at the foot of the Jupiter Tower. He looked at the city one last time before lifting Jarrod on his back again and leaving the city behind. "I said I'd be back."

Oh! Children of the land

Love is still the answer, take my hand!

end chapter 12