When the World's Finest go missing, it is up to the Teen Titans to figure out who stole them. Based on an Edgar Allan Poe short story. COMPLETE

Chapter One: Work and Play

The figure was tall. The figure was menacing. The figure had eyes full of intelligence, yet radiated an aura of purest and righteous rage. The figure surveyed the ruin around him: the stalactites crumbled upon the shattered ground, the sparking of electronics, the hissing of gas mains, the roar of hellfire. The figure looked upon it all. And scowled.

The lair of the Batman was aflame.

The figure flipped his tattered, bloodstained cape over his shoulder, ignored the arc of agony coursing through his collapsed shoulder blades. He ignored the red liquid flowing from gaping wounds, the crackling sound of charred flesh flaking away…the labored breathing of the old man in his arms.

"Alfred…." the Batman moaned sadly. He didn't know who had done it. He didn't know how. But this new enigmatic foe had conquered the Batman.

He moved sluggishly—dying by inches, life measured in minutes—toward the one communication terminal still undamaged. He laid Alfred's battered body against a stalagmite, careful not to jar any broken bones in the frail Englishman. Then he slapped a button marked "recording."

"Computer," he groaned, pausing to cough up a gob of blood. "Send a coded message to the Justice League …new…enemy," Batman stopped, for his well-trained senses—uncannily fine even in his wounded state—heard the subtle movement of gravel behind him.

He spun to face his foe, the one who destroyed the Batcave and the Batman. And he gasped in recognition.

Then blackness.

Beast Boy was sweating bullets. The tension was on. This was the big moment. The final battle. He assumed a fighting stance, purely aggressive, purely a warrior. He would not lose. And he made his move….

Across the Teen Titan's massive, wall-sized TV screen flashed the words, "Astaroth Wins."

Beast Boy's mouth dropped in abject shock even as Cyborg whooped and guffawed in ecstasy. "Schooled you, B.B.!" the machine-man gloated merrily. "No one—and I mean no one—beats Astaroth when I'm at the controls. Ha, ha!" He punched the air in victory.

"No way you could have did that counter," the green-furred Titan argued.

"You just saw it, dude!" Cyborg countered. "I win! That's two weeks chores you owe me. Boo yah!"

Starfire, floating behind the couch the two gamers were sitting on, rested her elbows along one of the cushions and asked, "The concept of gambling is quite familiar to me, but I didn't know Earth cultures condoned it so…flagrantly."

Raven, sitting on the farthest and loneliest end of the couch, looked up from her book and dryly commented, "They don't. Those two are just being immature. And loud."

The Tamaranian girl floated over to the dark-haired magus and peeked at the book title. It was a most curious tome, leather-bound and very, very old. "The…'Purloined Letter and Other Stories?' What is…purloined? Is that a manner of cooking?"

Raven closed the book and briefly considered simply leaving the bubbly girl's company. She didn't particularly like people asking her questions when she was reading. Reading was a way to relax, to clear the mind by filling it. Interruptions in such exercises were…trying, even for one of Raven's discipline. Yet, Raven decided to indulge the girl's curiosity, if only to educate her.

The magus raised the book and pointed at the title. "Purloined means to steal. It's an antiquated word, so no wonder you haven't heard it before." Raven was well aware that Starfire's grasp of the English tongue was based mostly on highly formalized modern grammar and the occasional street slang. "'The Purloined Letter' is a short story by Edgar Allan Poe, a writer of the nineteenth century, who was known for his dark poetry. But his short stories were also very highly-regarded, especially 'The Purloined Letter.'"

The door to the living room slid open with a hiss and Robin walked in. He had apparently heard Raven talking about the book, for he said, "It's the first true detective story and it redefined the mystery genre. It's now a regular in college anthologies and high school curriculums all over the world."

Starfire's expression was one of amazement and she regarded the book with newfound respect. "It must have been a milestone in your literature," she said. "My people regard the arts very highly. I must read this story some day, if I may." She looked pleadingly at Raven, who allowed a small smile to curl his small lips. The dark-haired magus nodded her assent.

Then Raven turned to Robin, tilting her head curiously. "I didn't know you read Poe."

The masked youth shrugged. "Batman's butler read it to him when he was just a boy and tried to teach him the impact Poe had on fiction and literature in general. Batman made me read it when I first started working with him. I guess all good detectives have to read it eventually."

Raven looked at him with an even more curious expression. Her haunting eyes tried to bore a hole into him. Though surprised at the sudden shift, Robin didn't let his uneasiness show. His face was a guarded mask, set and smooth. Raven asked, "You don't read for fun, do you?"

When Robin replied, it was low, with a hardened edge. "Not in the slightest. I read for work." The flinty demeanor faded away in an instant when he said in a louder voice, "By the way, guys—good news. I cracked that downtown bomber case. I already sent the culprit's name and description to the authorities. They've got enough on him to send him away for five to twenty."

Cyborg whooped again and Beast Boy shouted, "All right!"

Starfire clapped her hands, saying, "How wonderful. Now the shopping district is safe again. Now it won't explode anymore!"

Raven, as her wont, said nothing. But she was still giving Robin that strange look. Theyoung detectiveignored it and went to a computer terminal along the wall. His fingers danced across the keys.

Over the past month, he and the Titans had stopped several smalltime gangs, halted a major robbery, and, now, divined the identity of a mysterious downtown bomber. The Titans did the methodical detective work, ran the punishing chases, and fought the adrenaline-pumping fistfights. But once a case was solved, they always took the time to relax. Beast Boy and Cyborg had their games, Raven her books, Starfire her desire to learn about Earth…the Titans were always eager to put aside their responsibilities as heroes and just cool down.

All except one.

Not five minutes after solving a case, Robin was once again looking for a new mystery to crack. The Titan database and crime alarm systems were very sophisticated—they were assured to be, because it was Robin who built them, programmed them, and set them up. His remote eyes and ears were everywhere in the city, over the city, under the city. They were always scanning for a new evildoer, a new crime or theft, a new villain.

Raven regarded her leader with worry, though she hid it well behind her stony features. Over the months that the Titans had worked together, she had noticed Robin's obsession with crimefighting. To put it bluntly, the Boy Wonder was a workaholic. He was good at what he did, but he rarely rested. The times Raven had seen him playing a video game with Beast Boy or Cyborg had dwindled rapidly in recent months. He rarely left his study, where she knew he poured over case files and clues.

She wondered when he last slept.

But it was not her place to judge him or his methods. He was a skilled leader—a great leader. He was quick on his feet and quick of wits. He was a detective and a strategist. Those few times he had been deprived of his utility belt were times that Raven had witnessed his remarkable resourcefulness. Though not blessed with superpowers, he had outfought those who were more times than anyone could count. Indeed, of all the Teen Titans, Robin seemed the most likely to be unbeatable.

But knowing that didn't make her worry abate. Robin left the living room to shut himself in his study again. Sighing, Raven buried her nose in her book. The words danced across the pages like little imps. They wouldn't make sense. She growled in frustration and slammed the tome shut, drawing a surprised squeal from Starfire. The dark-haired magus ignored the Tamaranian and walked out of the room in silence.