Bard vs Noir

by Lord Belgarion and Post

Two universes come together with two unlikely heroes. Bard and Noir must determine the fate of the Titans. TS & TBE Xover. [Ch 1-6: The universes are mixed. The cowboy and the swordsman clash.]

2. Noir: City of Grey

Sawgrass peaked between the silent cracks and breaks in the rock bluffs.

The endless trickle and rush of ocean waves lingered around the island.

Under the shadow of a cold-gray sky, the beach outside of Titan's Tower was cold and serene.

Tranquil in the cold breeze of November brushing over the seascape.

It was there that I meditated. Numb to the melancholy morning. Alone with my weapon.

Myrkblade.

SWOOOSH!

I twirled the weapon over my head and gracefully ducked into an outward jab.

THWISH!

A meditative, straining pause on the toes of my boots.

I took a breath.

And-

SWISSSH!

Twirled my entire body with Myrkblade cutting the air.

I ended in a one-legged pose. Angling Myrkblade outward from my shoulder. Slowly, meditatively angling the metal fingers of my left prosthetic along the curve of the wooden katana.

Then-

Th-Th-Th-Thwish!

I twirled Myrkblade out, jabbed, retracted, spun again, and crouched in an awkward pose low to the ground.

Breathing gently.

A bead or two of sweat trickling down my black shades.

The sawgrass danced.

The cold clouds collected gray and gloomy overhead.

The stone reflection of a black-eyed swordsman with a scarred neck and cheek fluctuated far away in the ocean water.

And he felt incredibly, incredibly foreign.

"……"

I swallowed.

A wave of black energy coursed outward from my center. Smoke danced out of my eyes and warbled out from my shades. Murk traveled down my arm, enveloped the sword, and-

FLASH!

I twirled up and froze in the middle of an upswing.

An array of sawgrass parted like the red sea from the power of the black energy discharge.

A momentary shattering of the wind…and soon I realized that my powers weren't the only thing disturbing the peace.

There was a synthetically boisterous 'beating' in the air. A haunting, shellshocked sensation that sent shivers up my spine.

I looked directly upwards.

In cacophonous cadence, three hulking cargo helicopters zoomed over the Bay waters and towards the City skyline beyond. The three carried via a barrage of support cables a huge, glisteningly-white satellite dish bound for Kobayashi Tower. Already I could see cranes and gravity-defying workers converging on the tallest structure in the City. All citizens and all workers and all foreign volunteers worked together to finish one of the biggest reconstruction projects yet.

And yet, merely one of many endless attempts to sew shut the wounds of Dagger's day of destruction here.

On November Fourth.

I took a deep breath.

It's getting harder and harder to center myself……

I twirled Myrkblade up to my sheathe, sighed, and slid the sword into hiding.

CHIIIIIIING!

T-T-T-T-T-T-

Dear Diana,

Days have passed. Lives have been saved. Homes have been restored. A sense of security has once again washed over this City and those who do their best to protect it. Yet, in spite of all accomplishments, nothing can ever reverse the horrifying truth. Robin is dead. The Titans are wounded, and they shall be hurting forevermore because of it.

And yet, the Titans endure. Starfire has decided to remain here on Earth and fight for the team. Her passion for Robin when he was alive has been transformed into a righteous vigor to protect her friends as well as the survivors of August Fourth. Beast Boy has stayed resolute in his purpose here, though we all secretly know that the recent loss of Terra has hurt his spirit deeply. I look forward to seeing him mature in these days to come. Cyborg and Raven have found a source of solace and purpose in each other that will ultimately preserve them in these troubled times. I know that Cyborg will have the tenacity now to lead the new Titans into future arenas of defending justice, embittered as he may be the recent malfunctionings of his cybernetic person. Raven's strength of character never ceases to amaze me, and now more than ever she is strong and supportive for every single one of her companions. Tempest has also found his place. The wounds the Atlantean suffered at the hands of Dagger have proven only temporary. It is a miracle that he remains with us…a miracle that Tempest himself has recognized and thus counted for joy.

As for me, Diana, I am supremely glad for all that has lived in spite of all that has died. Our City suffered a lot of casualties during and after August Fourth. Although Robin himself is among the lost, his spirit lives on in all of us. His strength and courage and bravery to the bitter end is what empowers me, as surely it empowers all the rest of my teammates. Robin died for the sake of preserving a dream. A dream that life in all of its faculties is precious. Even a life sacrificed, for a sacrificed life never truly dies. It disseminates its energy among those closest to the beating heart of warmth just seconds leading to and following the last sigh of the desperate lungs. Robin had a contract to complete. One last goal to accomplish. And—in many shapes and forms—we Titans are to accomplish that goal. And I can't think of a single one of us who would now turn from that destiny. Heroes are born for the very same reason as for why they die. Necessity. Necessity of life. Necessity of justice. And necessity of the pursuit of benevolence.

It is hard, Diana. It has been hard and it shall continue to be hard. But we are growing. We're no longer the teen superheroes who sparingly stopped bank robberies between visits toe the pizzeria or arcade. We're the Titans. We are the Titans, and we shall protect this City at all costs. With our very own blood. With our very own spirit.

And with our very own compassion.

I thank you for your correspondence, Diana. The support of you and the League is beyond blessing. Be assured of the Titans' strength and tenacity. Justice shall endure in this City. And history will prove it.

Sincerely,

Noir

T-T-T-T-T-T-

"And this, my friends…," Tempest smirked as he brought two bowls of a green, steaming broth over and placed them down on the kitchen counter. "…is Seaweed Surprise."

"……….," Cyborg and Raven blinked. They sat on stools at the kitchen unit of the Tower's Main Room.

"Uhm…..ya know, Flipper." The android Titan simpered and looked up at the Atlantean. "Maybe you should try sharing your homemade green cuisine when Beast Boy is around…"

"What?" Tempest raised an eyebrow. "Are you scared?"

"Pfft. I'm simply finicky."

"You're scared, ya frickin' toaster! Just try a spoonful!"

"I'm a little put off by the word 'Surprise' in the name," Cyborg glared.

Tempest shrugged. "It's an English approximation for the entrée's name in the traditional, Renzukkan tongue. Venz'Dryzzk Klezzykykik."

"Thar she blows!"

"Shut up! This is stuff that Tram used to cook for me all the time!" A sigh. "Neptune rest his soul…."

"I don't know if you've taken notice….but….," Cyborg pointed at himself. "I ain't a walking shellfish!"

"I know! Walking shellfishes know better than to bitch over seaweed soup!"

"Grrrrr…..," Cyborg seethed.

"Mmmmm….," hummed a feminine voice.

The two boys looked over. Tempest smirked and Cyborg sweatdropped.

Raven was taking her third sip of the broth. She looked up with calm, blue eyes. A slight curve of her lips. "It's like….sweet spinach with seasoning."

"Whatever that is, I hope it's a good thing," Tempest simpered.

"Rghhh…," Cyborg dipped a spoon into his bowl with a twist of his face.

"Seriously…," Raven droned. "The taste buds of your receptors aren't fried, at least!"

"I know. That's what worries me."

Tempest folded his arms. "Well, Mr. Leader, it was you who suggested I start sharing the dinner duties from now on. So this is the best I have to give."

"I was thinking something more along the lines of tater tots…," Cyborg muttered.

Raven giggled ever so slightly

Tempest and Cyborg looked at her. A blink.

The Atlantean smirked. "Well, if it means getting a chuckle out of someone like her, maybe it's well worth it!"

"I'd say," Cyborg winked.

"I'm sorry…," Raven digressed after another sip. "But somehow it just….I dunno….seems fitting that you would like tater tots," she nodded at Cyborg.

"Why's that?"

"You're like a really big kid in side."

"So that's what makes you swoon, huh?"

"Never mind…," Raven shook her head and sighed.

"You like big, robotic kids?"

"I said never mind!"

"Big, gurgling, tin can babies full of motor oil—"

ZAP!

Cyborg jolted from his seat. "Dah!"

"That's it…," Tempest groaned and reached for the bowls. "Frickin' psychos like you don't deserve the ambrosia of my Seaweed Supr—"

Raven glared.

"……….okay then." The Atlantean simpered. "Well, if you two morons will excuse me……I've got a half-bird of my own to see. Keep the fins damp!" He whistled to himself and wandered off towards the elevator.

Raven cleared her throat, curved her lips ever so slightly, and returned to the broth.

Cyborg merely leaned his chin against his arm and gazed at her across the counter. "So…like….look who's Miss-Relative-Sunshine!"

"A good soup is worth the endorphins."

"Ah…so maybe that's why you go for tea so much," Cyborg smirked. "It's that 'hot liquid' thing that makes you giddy as a schoolgirl inside or something."

Raven sipped, swallowed, and looked at him through the corner of her violet eyes. "What's it to you?"

Cyborg chuckled and shrugged. "Just trying to figure you out, girl!" He smiled and leaned forward. "I'm always trying to figure you out."

Raven twirled the spoon in her fingers and gazed off across the Main Room. "After nearly two years….I suspect it can't be that hard."

"How would you know? Heck, I bet you don't even know half an inch of what goes on in my brain!"

"Besides electrical circuitry?"

"Har har."

Raven sipped, swallowed, and pointed: "Corvettes and swimsuit models."

"Pffft!" Cyborg waved her off. "Not even close!"

"Yes, but when you combine them?"

"……….," Cyborg blinked. "……oye. Let me have some of that damn seaweed."

"Heheh….all right."

"I need to build up my strength…," Cyborg muttered. "Lieutenant Smith wants to see us this afternoon."

"For what, pray tell?"

"I don't know. But if it isn't about supplying me some rims for the new T-Car I'm building, we're not gonna be there long."

"How thoughtful and mature of you," Raven sarcastically droned between sips. "You're already becoming a leader to put Robin to shame. In more ways than one."

"Love you too."

"Feh."

T-T-T-T-T-T-

Later that day…

Along the Downtown strips of the City….

Outside a small diner grooved between the skyscrapers….

"So what's this 'charity' you keep blabbering about?" Tempest asked from across the small table.

Lindsay, still in her waitress uniform, sipped from a water bottle and smiled. "Since when have I blabbered?"

"Since I asked you to," Tempest smirked.

She rolled her eyes and brushed a brown strand out from across her freckled face. "Our youth pastor at Urban Faith Academy, Edward Smith, has musical connections."

"Musical?"

"Mmmhmm. He used to be part of a country singer group from North Carolina. They traveled from bar to bar singing a bunch of old classics, but pretty much scrimping to survive month by month. Then one rainy evening their van got stuck in the mud of a dirt road outside of some backwater church. He and a few of his buds wandered into the sanctuary during a service to keep dry. The sermon touched Edward's heart, and he gave his life to Christ. He moved north up here to learn to become a pastor, settled in the City, and got involved with Urban Faith Academy."

"Quite an interesting life," Tempest nodded. "What's it got to do with some charity?

"Shhh! J-Just….let me!" she hissed.

"Heh heh heh…"

"Anyways," Lindsay pointed. "His old band came back to town soon after November Fourth. And he met with them and they all got to talking and they thought it'd be really nice to have a concert of sorts here in Town to raise money for those who have lost homes or loved ones."

"You don't say…."

"And Pastor Rutland though it was a good idea. So he's given Smith a head start. Some of the head haunchos in the City heard of this, and they think it's a grand idea too. So now Urban Faith has a bunch of flyers being made for this Concert. And there's talk of a news article and a televised announcement to get as many people interested as possible. Already they're saying that there's a positive response all throughout the City. The City Plaza has been scheduled for the location of the concert. And many of the volunteers from out of state already helping in the reconstruction projects have been lending a hand. It's really, really….nice. When you think about it."

Tempest folded his arms and smiled. "And I assume you're playing a big part in this."

Lindsay smiled bashfully. "I'm…uhm…part of Smith's team in rounding up his band's connections."

"So it's going to be….a 'country' concert….r-right?" Tempest worded carefully.

Lindsay nodded. Another swig of the water bottle. She swallowed and said: "It's kinda hard, actually. Not many country artists seem to stay put around here."

"Go figure."

"But a lot of people in this City love country music. You'd be surprised. Hehehe….I think there're some slickers missing from the 'city'.

"………………..right," the Atlantean blinked.

"Hehehehehe."

Tempest raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You're cute when you're confused."

"Sorry, I was born underwater. In the Atlantic Basin. That's a long way from Nillie Welson."

"Willie Nelson."

"Who?"

"Never mind," Lindsay shook her head. "Thankfully, my mother's three-quarters redneck. So I grew up listening to the best. I think I've got three of the most 'local' bands signed up already. The other volunteers are doing good too. Lillian's working there. So is Jack. And….uhm…..this really bright girl from out of town. Westhaven I think. What's her name…..Angie? Sally? Well, whoever she is, she wears glasses and is as cute as the dickens—"

"I think you're losing yourself," Tempest smiled.

"Bah! Why'd you even ask about it then?" she stuck her tongue out.

"It has to do with you. Of course I'm interested."

"Hehehe….you talk big."

"Fine," he raised a finger. "I assure you. If there's a concert going underway full of people impersonating Skinny Lizard—"

"Lynard Skynard."

"Whatever. I'll be there," Tempest winked. "With—as you earth dwellers put it—bells being on portions of my feet."

"Hehehehe…," she got up, scooted around the table, and gave the Atlantean a hug. "You're so sweeeeeet."

Tempest's dark eyes blinked. A shade of skin above his gills turned rosy. He cleared his throat, smiled crookedly, and held her shoulders. "Yes….uhm….I've heard from Black Manta that the flesh of Atlanteans does have a tangy taste to it."

She stepped back, smiling. "I can't wait to tell my friends. They'd be tickled pink to hear that you're coming."

He gestured. "And you?"

"I…uhm…..erm…..," she twiddled her thumbs. She gazed off. Her freckled face blushed. "Why….of course I'd be….g-glad you're coming….."

Tempest smirked.

"Ahem….," she coughed, straightened her uniform, and marched towards the entrance to Carman's diner. "I think my break's over."

"Whatever," he shrugged. "I'll catch you tomorrow or something….unless of course there's a bank robbery or falling asteroid."

"Don't you have things to do with your other friends?"

"What other friends? The Titans?" Tempest scratched the back of his head. "Eh….they're all doing their own thing."

"You don't say."

"Yup. In fact, Noir, Beast Boy, and Star are paying someone a special visit…."

T-T-T-T-T-T-

"And pretty much the doctor says that I shouldn't lift anything with it until at least three weeks from now," Daniel said with a crooked smile. He stood in the corner of the pawnshop on the front side of the sales counter. His arm was in a sling and he gestured towards it with his head as he spoke: "So…no more accepting washing machines in until I'm healthy enough to toss an armadillo across the street or something."

I smirked, my arms folded. Leaning against a rack of VCRs and kitchenware. I was dressed in casual denim on denim.

"Which means three weeks of agony for me," Renee groaned from behind the counter.

"Oh come on….it ain't that bad!" Daniel smirked at her, then looked at me. "It's gonna be like Adam and Eve. The wife—pregnant with Abel—will be doing as much grunt work as the husband until his arm recovers."

"Of all the times to be courageous and fearless and downright stupid!"

He leaned towards me and whispered: "She means she loves me…."

I winked under my shades.

"Ohhh…," Renee shuffled out from around the corner. Over six months pregnant and acting as if she as just then feeling the force of gravity take its evil hold. "Alas, there is a vice, Noir," she smiled at me. "After all these months you've visited us, Danny gets the crazy idea of being a hero. I never nearly died so much in my life!"

Daniel wrapped his good arm around her and smirked at me. "I suppose it's a good thing I never saw that Dagger person up close. It would have been one Hell of a time punching his face in with a dislocated arm."

"Now he's overinflated," Renee rolled her eyes. "But I'll endure. That's what I married him for. To ENDURE him."

"In other words….we're doing fine, Noir," Daniel said. "It was nice of you to visit."

I nodded. I bowed my head slightly.

"We hope that….you know….," Renee added with a touch of solemnity, "…that things are doing well around the Tower."

I took a deep breath. A faint but hopeful smile. I mouthed: 'Peachy keen'. A thumb's up.

"…..," they blinked. Then helpless chuckles.

I grinned. I turned and headed out the door with a wave.

"Bye, Noir!"

"Good bye, Noir."

So long……

The bell rang as I left the shop.

T-T-T-T-T-T-

As I walked out into the street, I dug my flesh and metal hands into my pockets and sighed.

My face was long.

Gazing at the passing sidewalk slabs.

I drifted past construction sites and busy intersections where clusters of volunteers worked anxiously to piece back together building fronts and office structures and street corners. The rubble of a past warzone faded as the City became slowly, slowly cleaner. There was almost even a new shine to it. A synthetic, ghostly shine.

Robin's contract.

It can't be ignored.

We may all be doing better.

But the Titans……

They are a house divided.

Somebody has to do something.

Somebody has to do something.

About Terra……

I took a deep breath. I gazed skyward. Gray light glistened off my shades.

Ana……should I do it?

Should I write that letter, Ana?

I gazed ahead.

I saw Starfire and Beast Boy by the outdoor flower shop. Also dressed casually.

I know. Now's not the time to dwell on that.

I put on a smile and approached the two.

"Dude….this is hopeless!" Beast Boy moaned. "She'll spend all day picking flowers! You've got to help!"

"Every piece of flora here is most exquisite," the Tamaranian girl murmured. She looked at every bud and bloom with point blanc scrutiny crossing her emerald eyes. "It takes a studious eye to find the most cherished of the heavenly group."

"What about a black eye?" Beast Boy pointed. "Two of them? Noir here has good tastes in flowers. Isn't that right, Mr. Casanova?"

I glared at him.

Don't tempt me.

"Heh heh heh…"

"Noir, please do assist if you can…,"Starfire held up two heterogeneous bundles of color. "Which would be the logical choice in this manner?"

Logical?

I scratched my neck, shrugged, and gazed at the flowers.

And it did not take me long to point at the ones in her right hand. The darker blooms.

"Truly?" Starfire leaned her head to the side. "I was under the impression that they seemed rather—"

"Gothic?" Beast Boy folded his arms and smirked. "Hey…Robin came from the place where the night's sky was practically blood red. I bet he'd feel like he was…home."

"……," Starfire took a deep breath and nodded. A thin, honest smile. "Truly. Thank you, friends. Your advice is as glorious as always."

I pointed at the vendor with a smirk.

"Eep! Indeed! Give me but sixty milliseconds!" she floated over towards the flower seller.

Beast Boy walked over to my side, folded his arms, and looked towards the gray sky. "We'd better get moving. Ya know…before it rains."

"…..," I nodded.

He sighed and glanced across the street. "It's so depressing when it rains at a cemetery…."

The changeling walked down the sidewalk.

I took a breath and joined him—accidentally bumping elbows with a random pedestrian.

Whump!

I jolted.

The other fellow did too. He was a tall man in country boots and with a cowboy hat. He looked at me with a raise of his gray eyebrows, smiled, and said: "Reckon your pardon."

"…….," I nodded.

He walked off.

A beat.

I groaned, turned, and followed after my green friend.

Shaking my head.

Pffft.

Cowboys……

"Hark! Wait the up!" Starfire floated after us with a bundle of flowers.

T-T-T-T-T-T-

Under the shadow of a slowly reconstructed police department…

Lieutenant Smith leaned on a crutch while shuffling through recent reports and schematics. He hobbled across the shadowed 'enclosure' and stood awkwardly before Raven and Cyborg.

"But…are you sure that now is a good time for this?" Cyborg asked. "The City still hasn't….erm….'recovered'. Just take a look outside the tent flap! The Police Department hardly has a foundation to stand on!"

"Which is why once Booker gets here in the caravan from Charlotte we'll be taking him immediately to the City Prison to conduct our interrogation," the Lieutenant said. He looked up from his papers at the two Titans. "Ever since you Titans caught the former FBI rogue in Asheville, we've suspected Booker of many criminal ties. Ranging from Rupert Thorne from Gotham City to the late Bruno Mannheim of Intergang."

"Let us guess…," Raven droned. "You suspected that he had a connection to Dagger as well."

The Lieutenant nodded. "More or less. Commissioner Decker supported the plan of interrogating Booker ever since he heard about what torturous things that freak loved to do to metaphysical living people. It's very possible that the creep may have had ties with a crimelord as big as Dagger."

"And perhaps Triangular…," Raven said.

Cyborg sweated, his human eye trailing to glance at her.

"…..," Smith took a deep breath. "Triangular….the theory that the…'Messenger' proposed while he was still here?" A beat. "While Decker was still alive."

Raven nodded.

"Ahem….," Cyborg walked forward. "All of which remains to be concluded."

Raven glared at him.

He simpered, facing the Lieutenant squarely. "But, I don't see why we Titans should object to this interrogation. Both allies and enemies in the world of crime are rapidly falling thin. That's a sure as sign as any that some wicked purging is going on. It'd probably be best to question any punk we can get a hand on."

"In other words," Raven folded her graceful arms. "It's a good move, Lieutenant. We'll back you up in any way necessary."

"…..," Smith smiled. "So this is how it is. Now that Robin has passed away, it's the two of you in charge of your team?"

The two Titans blinked.

"Heh….how fitting."

Cyborg and Raven lifted a finger at the same time.

"No, we're not—" "No, we're not—"

A beat.

They looked at each other.

They faced the Lieutenant again.

"Noir is actually second-in-" "Noir is actually second-in-"

They glanced at each other again.

Back to Smith.

"We're—"

"—not the 'leaders'," Raven exhaled.

"Then what are you two then?"

Raven glared. "Does this have a point?"

Smith chuckled and shook his head. "I guess not."

The Titans sweatdropped as the man hobbled across the tent and placed his papers down onto the top of a folding table. He paused, his backs to them.

A beat.

"I just want to say….," uttered he, "….that in spite of all the mayhem that has ensued. We all owe it to your Titans for stability. We wouldn't be getting anywhere if it weren't for you."

Cyborg took a deep breath. Smiling gently, he said: "You served Commissioner Decker faithfully for nearly half a decade, Smith. Let us now serve you…and the City…the way we do best."

"Heheheh…but Titans…," Smith turned around. "You already are."

They were silent.

He was silent.

A cold November wind rustled in and was silent.

Raven finally spoke up: "When is it expected to get here?"

"Hmmm?"

"Booker's caravan?"

"Oh….," Smith scratched his head. "Sundown tonight." A beat. "Barring any delays, of course."

Cyborg smiled. "Of course."

"……."

…….

T-T-T-T-T-T-

Booker's caravan hummed along the hallway.

Under a dull gray sky.

Two squad cars and a black prison van.

Booker sat inside the rear cabin of the vehicle. Clad in orange. His hands, knees, and calves shackled with chains.

"……," the man glared at the floor.

Booker was an old thing. An old, ugly, burnt thing. Instead of the usual stone-gray of age, he bore a charred, mucousy mosaic complexion of brown and peach and green and rope-burn-red. Veiny skin hung off his chin and forearms and cheeks in flabby monstrosities. He could barely see out from his eyesockets from the clefts of flesh squeezing off of his skull.

Booker didn't always look so hideous. At one time, he seemed deceptively young. Like an anchorperson or a dashing diamond store salesman. He had dark hair, smooth-as-pearl skin, and a smile that could make many a woman swoon.

The one problem was that such youth was merely a façade afforded him by high-tech cosmetic wizardry which he had learned throughout his life from working with the FBI and CIA. He so obsessed over the ability to synthetically extend his life and handsomeness that he went over the edge and turned his back to the government completely, while at the same time stealing from their very own resources to aid him in his selfish means of gaining immortality.

So obsessed was he, that he resorted to doing the fiendish of tasks that could earn him money from the criminal underground to continue with his project. And his latest and greatest project was to hunt down metaphysical alien beings throughout the nation and exploit them for their inhuman powers—that he might somehow find a way to capture such essence and deliver them as sellable product to the highest, dirty bidder.

His final endeavor centered around a lost Tamaranian boy named Nova'm who was living in seclusion under the secret foster care of his human guardians. With as many gadgets and thugs he could acquire, Booker sucked Nova'm of all the angry, Tamaranian energy that the boy could muster. He nearly consumed all that the poor young victim could give him, when quite coincidentally the Titans happened to show up at the villain's door step and ruined his plans.

Booker took a deep, wheezing breath. A frown crawled across his wrinkled face.

In particular…..the redheaded warrior girl from Tamaran had ruined him. Not just his dreams, but Starfire had laid waste to his figure. A violent scuffle and a date with an antique fireplace ruined Booker's façade. The flames ate away at his youthful visage, and all that was left was the scum underneath. Dying, aged, mortal scum.

And Booker did not sleep for one night in nearly three months without wanting to rip her and the rest of the Titans apart for revealing to the world once more who and what he was.

VRMMMMMM!

The prison van rolled along.

"……," Booker looked up.

Two guards sat silently by the rear doors. Helmeted. Laser rifles in their grasp.

"…..," Booker looked back down at his chains and sighed.

His weary mind wandered to the City Prison to which he was headed. He imagined all the interrogation techniques that they would use on him. Techniques that he himself had used plenty of times during his career. Many of which he himself perfected.

A smirk came to his lips.

For it was a good thing…

It was a good thing that Commissioner Decker was dead….

SCREEEEECH!

Booker gasped as the prison van suddenly lurched.

The two guards gasped and held their places.

"What's going on? Feels like the driver has lost control!"

One guard looked out the rear, grated windows at the blurring road behind them.

"I don't know…..I'm radioing him—"

The road suddenly turned on its side.

CRUNNNNCH!

"AAAH!"

"Dah!"

"Ooof!"

The van rolled to its side as all three occupants fell over hard.

Booker winced, blood trickling out of his nose.

The guards struggled to get up. Groaning.

The van had come to a complete stop on its side.

"Nnngh….what…wh-what the Hell?"

CRACK!

SWOOOOSH!

Suddenly the rear doors ripped open. Bright, gray light poured into the compartment. A thin, petite silhouette stood firmly in the blinding aura.

"Who are you!" one guard stammered.

"No way….," the second raised his laser rifle. "It's-"

The dark figure jerked into a pose with two wrists aimed out.

ZAAAP!

ZAP!

Two stinging bolts of electricity slammed the rifle out of the man's hand before shocking him through his suit. "AAARGH!" He fell down smoking.

The second guard ran at the figure. He shouted and raised the butt of his rifle to strike—

WHAP! The figure kicked him hard in the gut before grabbing his shoulders and tossing him out the van hard and cold. "YAAAAAH!" SPLAT!

Booker blinked. Panting.

The figure….hovered towards him. Coming into focus. Glaring and holding two stinger-guns.

"Booker?" Bumblebee sneered.

The man's lips stuttered. "Y-You…..but I thought H.I.V.E.—"

"You're coming with me," she gripped him by the collar and effortlessly hoisted the man up into the air. "Somebody has a job for you."

Booker hissed: "Yeah? Wh-Who…..your Headmistress is dead!"

"…..," Bumblebee smirked. "Yup."

SWOOOOSH!

She hovered out the van and carried the helpless prisoner off towards the gray oblivion.

T-T-T-T-T-T-

THWUMP!

Booker was tossed onto rocky floor of a dark cave somewhere.

"Ooof!" the wrinkly, burnt man winced.

ZAAP!

ZAAAAP!

Z-ZAP!

Bumblebee's gun shocked his chains off.

He rubbed his limbs, frowning. "What happens next? We blind Polyphemus?"

"Shut up and pay respect," Bumblebee grunted and stood at attention.

"To who?"

"To me….," uttered a young voice from the shadows.

Booker blinked. He looked up.

A short, thin figure walked out of the shadows. A dark-haired, smiling young man. Someone with an eternal grin and an even more immortal face.

Booker's lips parted. He stood up on wobbly legs. "You?"

"Why do you look so surprised, old fart?" Damien Darhk smiled. "You know very well that H.I.V.E. lives on no matter how soon our pathetic, individual legacies die!"

"B-B-But H.I.V.E. went down the toilet!" Booker pointed a shaky finger. "The Headmistress died and—"

"H.I.V.E. didn't die, you sniveling twit," Darhk barked. "It merely had a change in its starting lineup."

"………," Booker blinked.

Darhk grinned and pointed at himself like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He resembled the 'Fonze' for at least half a second.

"You?" Booker stammered.

"Stop repeating yourself…especially when it's with my name," Darhk pointed and paced around the aged fellow. "I don't wear out very easily. You, on the other hand…." He looked up close at Booker's burned and wrinkly condition. "…and here I thought that zombies were a thing of urban myth!"

Booker frowned. "So that's what it was. All this time, you've not been working for the Headmistress. She entrusted you with all of her faculties…but you were just in it for yourself, Darhk!"

"Oh…I'm 'in it' for a lot of things," Darhk gestured. "A lot more things than you could comprehend, I bet. There are big things happening in this schizophrenic day and age of ours, Booker. Things bigger than Triangular. Things bigger than Dagger." He shuffled to a stop. Eyes thin. "Things bigger than Red Aviary…."

"…….," Booker took a deep breath. "I'm listening…."

Darhk chuckled breathily. After a slight shudder, he adjusted a jacket around his figure. "You must forgive me…," he paced again. His breath visible. "I've been in Arizona over the past few weeks. Coming back here is most…..freezing. But then again, I'm here for only a short time. For the dirty work is finally out of my hands. And into your lap."

"Why mine?"

"Horses for courses, Booker," Darhk pointed. "You owed H.I.V.E. a lot for your tech of old. Now that I'm H.I.V.E., you owe that respect to me. We stand on the brink of a huge Rift. Each and everyone of us. We can feel it in our arteries and in our brains. There's something very, very—heheheh—screwed up about to happen. God's domain is about to be tampered with. And I….I want to be there when the rift breaks open." His eyes grew firm. "I've made some friends lately, Booker. And they would be most happy to receive any vessel of power and destruction that I can give them. And right now—in the Titan's City—one such vessel is about to break the surface. I wouldn't even be here rambling to you if that wasn't the case."

"So you want me to get something for you?" Booker asked.

"Not just anything," Darhk spoke. "Something so cataclysmically dangerous and potentially devastating that—if I put it in the hands with someone capable of performing brain functions initially—I knew that he would merely run off with the prize by himself. So, I settled for the dumb ox of this region to make the first waves of the initial tsunami. I had Bumblebee here break Johnny Rancid out of the Omega Wing of the City Prison. Then I sent him on his merry way to get a…..gift from Phaser Labs. Forcibly." He shrugged. "I expect that the moron will last another-I dunno-twelve hours before things explode in his face. And once they do, I want you to pry the gift from his smoldering carcass and bring it to me."

"And how do you expect me to do that?" Booker growled. "Do you think I'm in any condition to start running the gauntlet in the Titan's very own City!"

"Not you," Damien Darhk said. "But rather…your handiwork."

"?" Booker looked at him strange.

Damien Darhk smiled. He looked to the side. "Bumblebee?"

The girl emotionlessly flicked a wrist, produced a remote, and clicked it.

CHTUNG!

HISSSSSSSSSsssssss…..

A cold, blue light emanated from a crevice in the side of the shadowed cave.

Booker blocked the brightness from his wincing eyes.

An ice-cold tube of translucent blue appeared across from him. Inside the tube was a silent figure.

Damien Darhk motioned towards it: "Behold….our secret weapon. Two of our surviving H.I.V.E. units in Greenland discovered her while out on patrol to rearm the Arctic mines."

"Her?" Booker murmured.

"Take a look for yourself, stupid."

"…..," the man shuffled forward. He stood nose-to-glass.

A tall, thin girl rested in the glass. Sapphire eyes closed. Short, short blonde hair frozen. Blue liquid bubbled slowly around her and flakes of ice and snow hung off her pale skin.

Booker blinked. He gazed down.

There was a plaque on the glass of the tube. It read 'Fraust.'

"Everybody knows you've got a magic hand for brainwashing little freaks like these….," Damien Darhk hissed. "…I think it's about time you brushed up on your talents again. Program her, Booker. Program her to take the prize…and freeze everyone—superhero or not—in her way."

The old man took a deep breath. "And what's possibly in it for me?"

Damien Darhk whistled.

Bumblebee pressed the remote again.

A light glared onto a suddenly-present table full of chemicals and cosmetic gadgetry.

Booker looked over. His eyes widened.

Damien Darhk smiled: "Somebody may just as well be in store for….'strike two' of the Enoch Project."

"……..," Booker smiled.

"Now…..are you hired or what?"

A beat.

Bumblebee looked at the men. She folded her arms….and grinned wickedly.

T-T-T-T-T-T-

Despite our superpowers, the three of us walked to the cemetery. It was a large one, housing many of the bodies of those who had lived and died in this City alone. Riverwater trickled beneath green hills speckled with white, ivory-glowing tombstones. At the far end—practically overlooking the gentle waters—was the fifteen foot statue of the Boy Wonder. Robin's monument. The memorial of a fallen hero.

Beast Boy, Starfire, and I stood before the gray feet. Staring up. Impervious to the wind.

The Tamaranian girl took a deep breath, knelt down, and placed the bundle of flowers at the ivory Robin's feet. She stayed kneeling there for a while, her hands rested on her knee. A beat. She swallowed and spoke:

"I have often wondered about there being a significance to the total evaporation of his physical being when he perished in that carbonite explosion," the girl murmured. "I have come to realize that it would only be more sorrowful to grace Robin's body in a coffin. For in such a circumstance, it would be a lot harder to maintain that indeed his spirit has been spread out in the air and inhaled into our ever-warming spirits. He is a part of us all, and we shall live the rest of our lives owing the glorious layers of our mortality to his goodness."

"…..," I smiled.

"Wow, Star….," Beast Boy shuddered and managed a smirk as he patted her shoulder. "Forget Superman. It should have been you delivering the eulogy last week."

She stood up, her arms tight by her sides. "No matter. It is not my place to fixate on speeches I did or did not make in the past." She turned towards Beast Boy and smiled gently. "My life shall be Robin's eulogy. As it has always been lived to exalt the existence of my friends."

"He'd be proud of you, Star…," Beast Boy said. "Then again…he always was proud."

Starfire giggled.

I looked at Beast Boy. I pointed at him.

"Me?" he glanced from me to the statue. "Do I have anything to say?"

"Yes, Beast Boy!" Starfire clasped her hands together. "Speak to the ivory façade of Robin."

The changeling looked up, scratched his green head, and uttered: "Uh….hope you've got lots of motorcycles and punching bags in heaven. And…..uhm…….while you're up there, say 'hi' to Terra for me, will you?"

Starfire and I couldn't help but wince.

"Th-Thank you….," Beast Boy murmured to the wind. His eyes were lost.

"Garfield….," Starfire gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Do not despair. Terra may yet be—"

"I said what I wanted to say to Robin, didn't I?" he snapped. "You got your chance!"

Starfire was silent.

I cleared my throat.

Beast Boy bit his lip. "Ah jeez…I'm sorry."

"It is okay, Beast Boy—"

"No, Star….I….I just-"

Beep! Beep! Beep!

All of our Titan communicator sounded off at once.

We glanced down at them, pulling the devices out of various pockets of our casual clothes.

Coordinates on a small, digital map showed the site of Phaser Labs blinking red.

"Trouble!" Starfire murmured. "At the new facility by Phaser Labs!"

"Oye…," Beast Boy gulped. He glanced at the statue once and smiled awkwardly at Starfire. "You know what he would say, right?"

"Hehehehe. Yes! Titans, to the going!"

The two flew off in green streaks.

I stepped after them, paused, and looked at the statue.

"……"

Look after us too……

I turned, summoned murk, and blurred over the headstones of the cemetery.

T-T-T-T-T-T-

Phaser Labs had been leveled to the ground following November Fourth.

In its place—actually a block and a half away—a new facility was in the process of being built. Phaser Labs was already attempting to expand, so there was a basement laboratory already made for the rest of the structure to be built on top of it.

But that afternoon, a ring of squad cars were surrounding the place. An alarm of dread was in the air. Something this City had felt much too often as of late.

I blurred to a stop atop a building ledge opposite the site. Panting. Gripping Myrkblade and dressed in my usual black undershirt, camouflaged jacket, and tan fatigues. My black bangs were held in place by a red bandanna while the rest fanned out behind my head.

I stared at the scene through my black shades, took a deep breath, and blurred down just as a uniformed Starfire flew, followed by a green falcon that dropped down and morphed back into elf form at the gates to the building.

The three of us descended rapidly past cops, investigators, and shaken scientists giving testimonies.

We followed a path of shattered walls, broken steps, and scarred ceiling tile. Imprints of a chain whip appeared left and right. Finally…a door that had been kicked off its hinges into a basement laboratory.

The chamber was open, spacious, and lit with eerie floodlights set about the interior. Burn marks spread from a computer station against the wall. A space of sorts set within a wall besides the console was missing something. Something cylindrical in shape.

A huddle of three or four paramedics hustled around the body of a bleeding woman. The blonde victim lie in her lac uniform, spread open slightly so that the experts could swiftly tend to her wounds. They had an oxygen mask over her face, and seemed to be fighting on the brink of losing her.

Starfire and Beast Boy stared horrifically at the woman. In the meantime, I gazed over and saw Cyborg, Raven, and Tempest talking to a chief Phaser Labs technician.

"Lisa is her name…," he muttered. Looking at the paramedics anxiously. Running a hand over his shuddering head of gray hair. "Dr. Ryan's assistant. She was down here with him just hours ago while he was in the middle of an experiment. Some secret project of his. There was no warning when the intruder came. Suddenly—under my very nose—three of my workers were knocked unconscious, Ryan vanished, his energy core was stolen, and now-this." A deep breath. "Is there no rest for this ghostly City?"

Cyborg placed a hand on his shoulder. "She'll pull through. I know what the paramedics are doing ain't pretty. And usually—like bad tasting medicine—that means it's working," he winked optimistically.

The man swallowed. "I sure hope so…"

Raven drifted over towards the burnt computer console and empty alcove in the wall. "Do you know exactly what it was that Ryan was working on in here?"

"He had a grant from out of Town…," the man uttered. "Metropolis was backing him up. It was classified information. That's why he had things built in this facility and not the main Labs that Slug and Reload took out…"

Cyborg popped open a console in his arm and performed a reading of the room. "I'm detecting….chronoton distortions."

Beast Boy blinked at Cyborg. "Um….dude? Why does that sound bad to me?"

"Because it should," the android Titan grumbled. He looked at the rest of us. The lead scientist included. "It means that whatever was going on in here with Ryan's experiment, it was affecting the time-space continuum."

Starfire gasped. "A time machine?"

"We wouldn't know that for sure," Cyborg said. "Just because the time-space continuum has been shifted doesn't necessarily mean time travel. Hell, a whole plate is open for debate there."

"Like a dimensional portal?" Raven droned.

"Or a pocket continuum being experimented on," Cyborg shrugged. "Maybe even an attempt to screw with Newton's laws some."

"Dude…," Beast Boy shook his head. "Nobody screws with Newton!" A beat. He looked at me. "Right?"

I shrugged.

"Well, someone's been robbed," Tempest grunted.

We all looked at him.

He shrugged like we were all idiots. "Well, that's the deal, right? Just look around you! Classic robbery, if ever I've seen one!"

"Someone came here to get something…," Starfire nodded. She looked at Cyborg. "And away with it, the miscreant went."

"Probably the energy core," the scientist said. "It's the most expensive thing Ryan ever had in here."

"But who could have done it?" Raven asked.

Suddenly, the rustling of paramedics.

A coughing, sputtering voice.

The scientist craned his neck, gasped, and ran over: "Lisa!"

The Titans turned.

The scientist leaned over the paramedics as they revived the wounded blonde. "Lisa…..what happened here? Please….speak to me…."

Her eyes were thin. Her lips dry. She jolted and winced from the bandaging of those treating her. She managed through the breathing mask: "A…b-biker…."

Cyborg crept up. "Biker?"

She wearily nodded. A cough. She hissed: "Chains….and…..d-dark eye sockets….."

"……," I looked over at Cyborg. I hand-signed: 'I smell something rancid.'

The android Titan nodded. "Boo-yah." He spun about and motioned towards the other teammates. "Titans! Move out!"

T-T-T-T-T-T-

VRMMMMMM!

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" Johnny Rancid gripped the wheels to his undead bike as he rocketed towards the Suspension Bridge that would take him out of the City And with his pirze….a glittering why cylinder that hung off of him by a leather loop across his shoulders. "I'm a cowwwwwwwwwwboyyyyyy!" he sing-songed. "On a steel horse I kick assssssssss. I'm wanted. Dead or….kicking asSsSsSsSsSs! Ha ha ha! WOO! Who needs a god damn radio!"

Zzztt! The cylinder sparked suspiciously.

"Rrrrrgh…," he elbowed it. Clank! "Stop sparking already, you oversized tampon!" He smirked and gunned down the road, nearly squashing pedestrians and ramming aside cars in a mad dash for the City 'exit'. "Once this delivery is made, I'll be scott free from here to Zanzib—"

SWOOOOOSH! A Tamaranian warrior flew over head with a green elf in her hands. She dropped the changeling, which swiftly turned into a huge triceratops that landed with rearing horns and crest in front of the mad biker.

SLAM!

Johnny Rancid's dark eyes bulged. "Holy Quizno's!" He jerked hard on the bike handles.

SCREEEEEEEEECH!

He swerved the bike to a stop in front of the emerald dinosaur.

Starfire floated down with fists charged with glowing starbolts. Together, she and Beast Boy viciously blocked the way to the suspension bridge.

Rancid took a deep breath, hugged the cylinder tighter to himself, and smiled: "Well look who it is! The Pansies Anonymous Club! Say…where's your stinkin' bird-brain of a leader! Bet his beak finally bit the bullet, huh? HAH!"

Starfire's teeth grit angrily. Her eyes glowed a hot emerald. Regardless, she held her place.

"Robin might be dead….," said a voice from behind.

CLAMP!

SWOOSH!

FLASH!

SPLOOSH!

"!" Johnny Rancid turned around to see me perched on a lamppost, Raven teleporting out from the street, Tempest floating on a fire hydrant's tentacle of water, and Cyborg standing on a street corner.

The android Titan was pointing a titanium finger and frowning: "…but you're screwed."

"That the best you can come up with?" Rancid cackled. "Robin may have been a sniveling little pipsqueak, but at least his worthless ramblings were somewhat catchy!"

"You want catchy?" Cyborg growled. He reached upper, grabbed a van, and lifted it up high over his head. "Rrrrghhh! How about you catch this! YAUGH!"

SWOOOOSH! The hulking metal vehicle flew at Rancid.

The biker grinned, whipped out a heavy set of chains, spun it, and slashed it straight towards the aluminum missile.

SLAAAAASH!

CRACK!

The van split in two halves and landed on either side of him.

"Screw off, kiddies!" Rancid sneered. He held the coil of now-smoking chains by his side as he remained perched on the humming bike. "I've got a special delivery to make!" He patted the cylinder hanging onto his waist. "Neither rain, sleet, hail, or punk-ass Titans are gonna delay the mail when Johnny Rancid's on the job!"

"The energy core…," Raven murmured sideways to Cyborg. "That must be what the people at Phaser Labs were talking about. We must be careful."

"Right…," Cyborg nodded. "Let's all proceed with caution."

"Thanks for telling me…," Tempest grinned from where he floated on the water-tentacle. His eyes glowed purple. "I'll just concentrate now on crushing only his skull."

I smirked.

"Surely you know that your fiendish prowess is not enough to ward off the entirety of us!" Starfire called out to the man. "Peacefully give us back the important object which you have pilfered and we will see to your tranquil relocation to jail!"

"Girl, you speak too much to be exciting," Rancid smirked up at her. "No wonder the only boyfriend you ever had is dead."

Starfire blinked.

"Bah…romance is for saps!" Rancid suddenly whipped out a remote control. "I, on the other hand, can do just fine with pets!"

-Click.-

RUMMMMMMBLE!

"?" I craned my neck.

Cyborg and the green triceratops wobbled as the ground beneath them shook.

I fought to keep myself perched on the lamppost.

"What in Hades' name?" Tempest blinked. He glanced down at the asphalt cracking up. "Ah….how cute."

SMASH!

"RUFF! RUFF!"

A gigantic, titanium dog burst up from the urban earth. Its gaping jaws and snout looked like the back end of a refitted dumptruck…and was about the same size as one too. Missiles, grenade launchers, and other assorted features lined its industrial metal exoskeleton.

Cyborg, Tempest, and Beast Boy all collapsed from the crater.

Starfire and Raven floated around, gasping from above.

I had managed to leap and perch onto a building face across from the emerging, metal pup.

"Hah hah hah! Say hello to FIDO! Fido liiiiiikes to make friends!" Rancid throttled over on his bike and 'petted' the panting, robot dog. "Especially when those friends are marinating in his belly of battery acid!" He pointed with a whip of his chains. "FIDO! ATTACK!"

"RUFF! RUFF!"

The huge robo-canine charged the Titans.

It met Cyborg first. The android leader grounded his feet into the asphalt and shoved against the huge dog, struggling.

Tempest got up, summoned a funnel of water, and began pummeling the metal monstrosity from out of bounds.

Beast Boy joined Cyborg's wrestling match in the form of a bear while Raven and Starfire provided aerial support with starbolts and black talons of energy.

It soon became apparent that this was an automaton far deserving of our mutual 'attention'.

In the meantime, I sat helpless on the buildingside. I gasped and looked to side as-

VRMMMMMM!

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" Johnny Rancid gunned his bike back towards the center of the City, opposite of the Bridge. "DETOUR! HA HA HA HA!"

"Nnnghhh!" Cyborg struggled, sweated, and looked up with a desperate, human eye. "Noir! Murk time!"

I nodded.

"Catch up with that creep! Get the cylinder at all costs!"

"Yeah! We've got Lassie here!" Beast Boy grunted.

"GRRRRRR!"

"…..sorta…," the changeling sweatdropped.

I took a deep breath.

SWOOOOOSH!

I blurred down the street and onto a straightaway where the smoke from Rancid's bike was still settling.

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" he became a speck in the distant line of asphalt.

I panted, clutching Myrkblade.

"….."

I glanced to my left.

A ninja bike rested. Unmanned. Begging for me to mount it and give chase.

"…."

I groaned and looked ahead.

God, I hate motorbikes.

SWOOOOOOSH!

I ignored the bike and blurred after Rancid at over one-hundred-miles an hour on the rushing smoke of my feet.

T-T-T-T-T-T-

VRMMMMMMMM!

People, reconstruction workers, and volunteers dashed out of the way as Rancid barreled down the street as fast as his fuel and exhaust could take him.

"Hehehehehehehe," he chuckled—shaking—to himself. He tightened his hold on the cylinder and grinned at the sides of the road blurring past him. "Can't be a minute late! Or else I'm gonna have to deliver a free-of-charge glowing cylinder in the future!"

He became only remotely aware of a dark shadow inking into his peripheral.

He glanced right. "Huh?"

SWOOOOOSH! I bounced off a blurred buildingside and pounced on him.

"SON OF A MUFFLER!" he swerved his screeching bike to the left in vain.

CLAMP! I perched on the front end of his cycle. Snarling, I raised Myrkblade and slashed down. SWIIISH!

He jerked his head back.

Myrkblade got nothing but air and—CLANK!—struck the center of the handle bars with a shower of sparks.

"Idiot! Roadkill sticks to the road!" Rancid's leather-booted foot came up and kicked me in the chest. WHUMP!

I gasped from the impact and held on with one arm. My lower body flailed off the front end of the motorcycle. Myrkblade dipped down. Its tip grinded against the rushing asphalt. Sparks and pebbles showered upwards from the Earth.

"Ynnnghhh!" Rancid spun his chain whip over his head with a free hand and flung it at my lower body. THWPPP! CLANK!

The chains wrapped around my ankle.

"!" my lips parted.

YANK!

He pulled back.

"HA HA HA HA!"

I flew over his head, flailed, reached the end of the metal chain's length, and plummeted towards the road below.

I twirled my body with a pulse of murk at the last second, and then summoned a shield of murk across my back as I landed purposefully face-up.

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!

I slid bumpily on a thin shield of murk protecting my body from the chaos of the blurring asphalt beneath me. My teeth rattled and my shades nearly shook off. All the while, Johnny Rancid dragged me by the taut chain around the ankle on one end and in his grasp on the other. He laughed and veered left and right, swinging me dangerously towards parked vehicles and lampposts as he burned a path through downtown.

"Wait till I find a badass enough tree to string you up! Ladies and gentlemen……blind piñata time! Ah ha ha ha!"

I gritted my teeth.

Get……a……GIRLFRIEND!

I pulsed murk.

I 'slid' to the right.

Bumped up onto the sidewalk.

Was dragged towards a stop sign.

Slashed Myrkblade down past my feet.

CH-CHIING!

CRACK!

The stop sign snapped in two.

CLAMP!

I grabbed the red octagon, kicked with my feet, 'leapt' up at the end of the chain, and tossed the stop sign into the spokes of Rancid's rear wheels.

SW-SW-SW-SWISH-CLANK!

"Frag it!"

SCREEEECH!

The gears shattered and the bike dragged into fifty-miles-per-hour.

I landed from my leap, grinded my feet into the ground, anchored myself, and pulled back at the same chain once there was some slack. "!" I mutely snarled through clenched teeth.

YANK!

SWOOOOSH! Rancid was pulled of his bike as I yanked him over my head, past me, and into the rear window of a minivan. CRACK!

"OOF!" THWUMP! He collapsed on the ground.

I twirled Myrkblade. I severed the chain around my leg. SNKK! I took a breath and blurred at him.

He stood up, grabbed the slack of what was left of the chain, and hoisted up.

WHPPP!

A few links jerked up from under my smoking feet.

"!" I was tossed up into the air.

"HA!" a bruised Rancid whipped out his luger and aimed at me. BANG!

I uprighted myself in mid-air with a swing of Myrkblade. CLANG!

The bullet deflected off my sword and knocked the gun out of his grasp.

"Yeowch!"

"!" I landed in a nimble crouch, my weapon raised.

"Nnnnghh!" Rancid twirled the shattered chains above his head, grunted, and tossed them at me.

WHPPP!

I ducked my head.

SWOOOSH-CRACK!

A storefront's window behind me shattered.

Rancid took a breath and swung again.

I side-jumped left.

WHPPP!

THWACK!

A crater formed in the asphalt where I previously stood.

"Mush! Mush! Heheheh!" Rancid twirled the chain and flung it again.

WHPPPP!

CRUNCH! The chains embedded into a Volkswagen Bug behind me.

I took a deep breath and stabbed the chain into the aluminum body of the car with Myrkblade. Sticking it tight.

"Nnngh….Nnnnghhh!" Rancid tugged in vain to yank the chain free.

I took a breath. Summoned murk. Jumped. Landed weightlessly on the taut chain. And blurred down the metal links and leapt off with a jump-kick across Rancid's cheek.

THWACK!

"AAAUGH!" he flew back and landed across the sidewalk.

I landed behind him, twirled Myrkblade, and stabbed down.

He rolled to the side-

CLANK!

My sword struck something. Something bright and cylindrical. Something that hissed and glowed brightly from my cracking impact.

SHHHHHHHH!

I sweatdropped.

"Wuh oh….okay, shinobi. What the fudge did you do!" Rancid growled.

I tried to wrench Myrkblade out from the cylinder.

The energy core started to glow brighter and brighter.

The air grew cold and the surrounding concrete vibrated.

SHHHHHHHHHHH!

Oh damn……

My black eyes instinctively flinched and curved in pain from the intensity of light.

Brighter and brighter.

Louder and louder.

Colder and colder.

Like I was being sucked into some infinitesimal nub that made my bones bend into my soul…

"Get away from my BOUNTY!" Rancid's foot came at me.

I gasped and ducked away—

CRACK!

Myrkblade came free.

A bright energy surged out…and consumed Rancid.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" he screamed.

I shaded my eyes against the thunder and lightning.

Somewhere in the stabbing brightness, I could have sworn I saw the faint outlines of what looked like two ectoplasmic beings with trailing wings like labcoats spiraling into the screaming face of Rancid and dissolving into white glass.

And at some point, Rancid fell.

And at some point, I too fell.

But I didn't stop falling.

Not until a good eternity of piercing through the green walls that mirror the edges of our universes.

Something hideously cold and familiar.

Like the taste of amniotic fluid that we all must know as infants but somehow forget about.

It was the all too ironic sensation of obliteration and being born again.

Somewhere beyond the veil.

And I was gone.