Chapter 2: Awakening

-(Michael)-

At first, awareness only took notice of a faint light, blunted from behind loose flaps of skin. Memories assaulted a drowsy mind, still fighting to keep shut away the outside world. Emotions welled up within, but were pushed away. Sadness, shock, rage, all locked away until later. The mind knew that now was not the time to deal with these.

Signals reached nearly numb limbs, assessing damage. Electricity coursed across sore nerves, causing achy muscles to tense up. Blood began pumping harder through the body as more and more awoke. Finally, with a grunt of effort, previously concealed eyes surfaced from behind the eyelids. The light, although harsh to the still-pained body of Michael, was actually very dim. Artificial in origin, the light revealed a room suited for medical purposes.

And is obviously being used for that right now... Michael thought dryly. Waves of nausea rippled throughout his body as he attempted to sit up. After three tries, he was able to prop himself up against the back of the bed using his pillow. From his new vantage point, IVs became visible leading into a bandaged left arm. Reaching up with his right, Michael felt around the pounding area of his head and found bandages covering the top right side of his head. Tiny spots of dried blood caked a small part of the bandage, and upon placing pressure, Michael found that the bleeding had stopped in that particular injury.

A blue light began blinking on the console next to his bed, and a slightly yellow-tinged clear liquid flooded through the IVs. Strength slowly began to build up inside his body. Ugh... I guess it's lunchtime for me...

Looking over himself again, Michael spotted the familiar scars on his body. Course lines dotted his upper arms, as well as across his chest. Now indecipherable, they had once displayed runes.

Michael's now alert brain turned form inside to out, and sensed someone coming. A door whooshed open from the right side of the patient's bed, letting Cyborg through. Michael's eyes perked farther open with interest. Random images flooded his mind, but he still had no clue as to how he had gotten here. Seeing Cyborg simply confused him more.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, man" Cyborg greeted. Michael stared in reply. "You were out for three days. Had a concussion or two."

"What... What happened" Michael asked, unconsciously brushing the side of his head.

"You took a hit to the head from that Cainis guy. Hit you pretty hard. Don't know how, but you cracked the concrete when you hit." Apparently, Cyborg must have misunderstood.

"Cainis? Who... What are you talking about"

Cyborg's face fell. "Oh. So you don't remember, huh" Taking the question as rhetorical, Michael remained silent.

"Well... We... The Teen Titans and I... were sent out to stop Red X from robbin' some military research base. But before we could get to him, some kinda earthquake hit the place that we just happened to be, and that guy Cainis appeared.

"We started fighting him and all, but then... Well, Beast Boy got knocked into the street. Right in front of... your... car..." Cyborg stopped as realization dawned on Michael.

Everything came back, a now complete vision hitting him all at once. The screeching tires, the wolf in the road that suddenly turned into a person, then the bright flash... It was all too much. Tears filled the fully widened eyes of the now-orphaned teen. Numb fingers made a deathgrip upon the soft mattress as mild tremors shook through his body.

Cyborg, not knowing what to say, just stood silently, nervously glancing around. Michael lay there fighting for composure through his struggling sobs. After three minutes, Michael's shoulders slumped. "Where am I" he asked hoarsely.

"In the Titan Tower. Robin said you can stay as long as you need. He... has a couple questions for you."

Looking up to reply, Michael noticed a girl standing just outside the doorway, wearing a dark blue robe. How long has she been there? Michael thought to himself. Shaking his head, Michael replied to Cyborg. "I... I can answer the questions."

Cyborg grinned slightly, but shook his head. "Naw, not right now. You should get some rest. You came outta that fight pretty good, but you still got banged up. We'll check back with you in a couple hours."

Wiping away a tear, Michael repositioned himself on the bed in answer. Pulling the thin hospital style blanket up, he turned away from Cyborg and the world. Dreamless sleep quickly took him.

-(Raven)-

"Poor guy... Wish there was somethin' I coulda said." Cyborg turned slowly from the door to the computer console, resetting it to alert him once more when the teen woke up again. "I really don't want to have to do that again..." Raven followed him down the hall out of the medical portion of the Tower. "He was really ready to answer those questions, wasn't he"

"Sounded more like he just wanted his mind off what happened" Raven answered distractedly.

"He seemed ready to me."

"Maybe."

The two reached the elevator. Without another word, Raven turned down another hallway into her room, leaving a puzzled Cyborg behind. Once through her door, she walked towards the book podium in the center of her room. As usual when she was researching, books covered the floor, piled in twos and threes around the podium. One book lay open upon the top of the podium, a feather left as a bookmark on the open page.

Turning the page, Raven renewed her search. Ever since the burn had healed two days ago, she had been poring over her books, searching for the reason why the name Cainis sounded so familiar. She had searched completely through her books on sorcerers, had exhausted her supply of books on medieval wizards, and was now looking through a reference book on demons (a/n: because you just know it would be in her personal library). Nothing had yet come up, but the nagging feeling stayed with her. Not to mention the endless questions of where Michael had gotten the scars on his arms and chest.

Robin, she knew, was also researching this new threat. But instead of looking to the past, he was trying to pinpoint exactly where the man was. His usual fervor was present, as he was rarely seen outside his room. He had actually told off Starfire at one point, causing Raven to have to take the time to calm her friend down and reassure her that Robin was just under a lot of stress. I'm going to force one of them to kiss the other one of these days. It used to get on her nerves at all times when the two would flirt, but now Raven just found it annoying that they wouldn't tell each other how they felt. Robin's always just too busy, though, and Starfire is just too... Starfire. There really weren't words to describe the degree of Starfire's innocence, but at least it came across as refreshing once in a while.

Raven's thoughts silenced, though, as she turned the page once more. Hm... Success.

-(Robin)-

A faint metal rapping on the door prompted Robin away from his computer. After carefully closing down his work, he called for the visitors to come in. The door, as usual an automated sliding one, whooshed open. Cyborg came through first, followed slowly by Michael, supported by a crutch. His bandages, freshly changed, showed no sign of the blood loss of three days past. Hobbling slowly towards the chair occupying the space next to the computer desk, Michael nodded his head in greeting.

As soon as his guest was seated, Cyborg waved and said"Don't push him too hard. He just got to walkin' a few minutes ago." After Robin nodded, Cyborg took his leave. After a moment of awkward silence, Michael spoke.

"Were there any remains" Robin stared at the floor for a moment more, then looked up and answered.

"Not much, I'm afraid. If you want, I can have some kind of service scheduled."

"Please" Michael said. The two began another staring match with the floor.

"So..." Michael began"I hear you had something to ask me"

"Yeah, I do. You don't have to answer anything now, but I would like to know at some point."

"Yeah" Impatience could be detected in his voice, and the way he rubbed his head indicated he probably had a headache.

"Well... first off I'd like to ask you if you have any information on this Cainis guy" After the stretch of silence, Robin was down to business.

"I don't think I've ever seen him before. The name sounds... vaguely familiar." Michael looked down to think. "Has he been seen since... When was it again"

"Three days ago? Haven't heard a whisper about him. Wherever he went, he covered his tracks very well."

"Really? Nothing? I would have thought someone like that would have immediately started killing people. He didn't seem to care at all about my church that was almost hit."

"I've been thinking the same thing. But that leads me to my next question. What exactly is it that you can do" A quizzical look passed over Michael's features, then one of reluctance.

"What I can do... Well, like you saw, I have some semblence of telekinesis. Technically... I'm not supposed to use it without permission. I believe that it is based somewhere within the frontal lobe. At least, thats the part that I feel the strain the most when I use this power."

"What about the sword? Cyborg found that it had some... weird powers, to say the least."

Despite his current downtrodden mood, Michael grinned. "He didn't try to use it, did he"

"Yes, he did. Or at least he tried. He said that the thing weighed in at about seven pounds when we carried it in your bag, but when he tried to pick it up and use it, it registered to something like seven hundred pounds." Michael's grin widened.

"I expect that happened. The sword only allows... certain people to handle it for it's intended purpose." When Robin simply stared expectantly, Michael continued. "It only allows believers in Christ handle it."

Well, that's certainly not what I expected, Robin thought to himself. He knew his eyes probably registered the shock he was feeling, which explained the way Michael sat back in his chair, arms crossed. He was most likely expecting disbelief towards his comment.

So he did the opposite. "Alright. I've heard stranger. Where did you get the sword"

Surprise was definately evident on Michael's face, but it quickly subsided. "That... I'd rather not tell. Not now. I will say, though, that it is blessed." Michael sighed, but again continued when Robin was silent. "It will not kill if the user does not wish it to, and it is light as a feather to a believer."

"Hmmm..." Robin sat back, this time in deep thought. This guy was definately out of the ordinary. Even after the last questions, Robin didn't really know much about him. Of course, that did also hold true with what he knew of Raven, or of Beast Boy's past, which wasn't much at all. "Well, I guess that's all I have to ask you right now. Because of the situation, I'm going to let you stay here in the tower. Also, I wanted to know if maybe you'd want to go with us on a mission at some point."

Michael grinned sadly. "Now why would you let me do that"

"Do you know who Raven is"

Michael sat forward again, forehead scrunching in thought. "The girl with the blue cloak"

Robin nodded. "Her powers allow her to feel the aura of a person. She said that she felt a strange power about you. Because of your help with the Cainis situation, I thought it would be appropriate to... see what you can do. That is, of course, only if you want to."

Sitting back once more, Michael nodded slowly. A tinge of sorrow touched his thoughtful expression, and Robin felt a pang of sympathy for him. "Alright. I'll do it. But obviously... well, not at the moment." The sad smile reappeared.

"I could have guessed that" Robin said, grinning. "But, hey. If you ever need to talk about anything, I'm sure any of the Titans would have no problem with listening. Have you met all of us yet."

"I think so, except for Raven."

"Well, I guess that's it then. If you want to talk about anything, I have a few minutes right now. Otherwise..."

Michael stood up as quickly as his injuries would allow him. "No, I'll be fine right now. I need to deal with this in my own way. Thanks, though... for the offer. I might take you up on that later."

Robin smiled. "I guess I'll see you later, then. Get some rest. You look like you could use it."

Michael took the joke in stride, grinning one final time. A thought occured to Robin. "Have you met Starfire yet"

Michael turned back to Robin. "Yeah. A bit too cheery for me right now, but at least just meeting her was... uplifting."

Robin chuckled softly. "I thought it might be. Get well."

"I will."

-(Raven)-

A demon, hmm? Raven hovered gently over the floor, meditating on her newly found information. The name fits... means "of sin", or at least something close to that. Memory jogged by the information supplied in the reference, Raven tried to conjure up the image of him in her mind.

Along with inheriting some of her fathers powers, Raven had also been cursed with a few of his memories. Mostly vague and cluttered, these memories were more of a burden than were normally any assistance, except for now. Her father had born witness to the capture of this demon by a lesser archangel, named Mikale, or Milande, or something. The archangel had imprisoned the demon within a gold embossed statuette, and sealed it with a cross. Some prophecy or such had come out of the whole event, saying that it would be freed and imprisoned again, to the betterment of the world. And how many of these prophecies ever come to point?

Concentrating, Raven began the arduous task of locating Cainis. Using the faint memory of the event from Trigon, she tried to pinpoint his aura over the crowd of souls inhabiting Jump City. The world spun around her as time became irrelevant. Visions flew past her eyelids, glimpses of the past, present, and future. Focusing more, suppressing her emotions, all but eliminating her self, Raven found the images flowing at a much slower rate. Using all the power her physical mind could muster, Raven filtered out all images not pretaining to her search. Soon, Raven had locked down the general location of Cainis. Warehouses stood tall around the black-cloaked figure of the evil entity, shadows falling and all but covering the lifeless bodies of several victims. Blood stained a sword stuck into the ground next to Cainis.

Eyes snapping open, Raven wasted no time in landing to walk. Flying through her door, pausing only for a moment in surprise of the time (it was now quite late) Raven headed straight for Robin's room. Her thoughts were dashed, though, when the alarm suddenly went off.

-(Michael)-

Sleep. Recover. Fight. Pray. These thoughts fired continuously on through Michael's brain. Depression threatened to consume him, darken and squander his soul. Bouts of violent thought broke up the monotony of sorrow. Then, at the end of the cycle, a strange peace would preside over him. An empty, blank nothingness. A place of reflection and prayer.

Having been through this cycle at least twice, Michael had finally decided to get up and do something. Walking (or at least limping) to the weight room with his bag, Michael took his shirt off and relieved himself of the bandage wrapping his arm. Freshly healed skin covered a shallow scar down the side of his arm, continuing up to his shoulder and coming to an end at the base of the neck. Next came the bandage around his head. Looking into a wall-length mirror, he examined the damage. Some missing hair that had begun to grow back, but otherwise he was no worse for the wear.

Smiling sadly, Michael sat down and began again to pray. His murmured speech seemed to reach all corners of the room, ricocheting and echoing faintly along the walls. After several minutes, he again stood. Extracting his sword from his now-weathered leather bag, he gracefully swung the blade around through the air. Eyes closed, he let go and allowed himself to move freely without sight. Although crowded, not one piece of equipment was harmed. Sometimes millimeters away, the razor-sharp blade never so much as scratched the floor. Minutes passed as sore muscles ebbing with pain stretched themselves and tendons loosened. Warmth flooded his heart as he let God embrace his body. After seven minutes, Michael stopped and sat. Setting his sword down, he touched the now glowing emerald-green stone in the center of the chain-hilt.

Michael knew that he had to fight against the depression that threatened to overwhelm him every moment. He had known sorrow before, had had friends die. Always, his faith gave him the strength to move on. It would now, as well, but he knew it would take time. Besides, he had other things to think about. Such as stopping Cainis from what he was prophesized to try.

Picking the weapon back up, Michael again practiced his sword.

-(Red X)-

Watching the newcomer, Red X's interest grew by the second. His swordsmanship was excellent, concentration flawless. And even overlooking those traits, there was the fact that after only 3 days, he was already nearly healed. Red X's right hand reached up to his left ribs, where one had in fact been broken.

Smiling underneath his mask, the egotistical thief began to pace in his newly-built lair. Coming to a rest on a stone-carved chair marked with red Xs, Red X began to plot. It seemed that this new team member had witnessed his parents' death. This could most definitely be used to my advantage...

Suddenly, and without any warning at all, the sword slipped from Michael's hand. The sword quickly made up the distance from floor-level to the camera. Static filled the screen. Frowning, Red X set the computer unit to monitor all the other two cameras he had been able to hack into. Although not in that exact room, Red X could wait until Michael moved into a room with a camera to observe him.

-(Michael)-

Standing there with his hands still in the position where the sword had left them, Michael blinked at the cleanly-sliced camera. Looking nervously left, then right, he walked over to the corner of the room. The sword was at least thirty feet into the air, embedded deep into the wall. Oh, this'll be fun to explain. 'Well, I was hobbling along through the weight room, and I accidentally chucked the sword at the camera.' Wow. They'll believe that one... Thoughts of I'm screwed and Wonder where they keep the plaster? flew through his mind as he crouched down for a jump impossible for a normal human being. Gathering into him the power siphoned from the sword, he leapt a clean 35 feet into the air, bumped his head on the ceiling, and grabbed the swords handle on the way down. Eyes still spinning, he tried to imagine what it would be like if any of the Titans happened to walk in right at that moment.

Simply hanging there with nothing to do, Michael's thoughts wandered. In his mind, the picture formed of the origin of his powers.

(a/n: Warning: long and involved flashback. Do not read without sufficient snacks and/or flames)

He looked into the mirror. A young man of 14 stared back with empty eyes. Black was the most prominent color of choice for his wardrobe, and he was covered in it today. Turning the water in the sink off, Michael walked out of the bathroom and into his High School. Whenever he glanced at someone, he saw more than their physical being. He saw their soul. He had ever since he had joined the Cult. They had taught him to use a talent rare in humans- the power to manipulate the environment with but a thought.

Ever since he had joined, his mission had always been to turn humanity away from God. He was desperate to succeed, to be accepted. But there was always the quiet nagging within him, the little voice in his ear that said"Turn away."

(a/n: Okay, so not that long. But now you have snacks!)

A single tear slid down Michael's cheek. With a mighty tug, he pulled the sword out of the wall. Landing heavily on his feet and one arm, Michael retrieved the sheath.

He never used his power where others could see it. He quietly stole away weaker Christians, turning them away from the truth. A burning sense of malice always churned within him. He wanted more. More would make them accept him for who he was.

Reapplying the bandages, he began anew his facade of injury. Hopefully, Cyborg wouldn't scan him until it was the right time, when Michael knew he was ready. He'd have to trust God on that one.

Not necessarily of the Cult, Kayt had seemed perfect from the beginning. She was wiccan, and not one of much power. Michael chose to be with her. He lead her ever closer to the Cult, hoping to one day persuade her to join. At the same time, he enjoyed the sin she represented. She was a symbol of his free being. She was lost.

Tears poured slowly down his face now, but his expression was stony. The memory had to run it's course. That was part of his healing process.

Eventually, Michael was given a sword. It glowed with a very dull crimson light, that ebony blade. It held a blackened ruby in it's hilt. It was called Cressinal by some ancient and evil language that the Cult studied.

The masters of the Cult knew that a great battle was coming. They were preparing their students for this. But Michael never was a part of it. The night before this battle, Kayt left him, searching for a new flavor. His already waning soul crushed, he again felt lost and confused, dejected. He drove Cressinal into the wall of his room in anger and sadness. He was seconds from suicide when he spotted the book.

Lying perfectly upon the ruined pages of his other books, torn apart in his rage, was the one that told the Truth. All anger, all sadness, all negative emotion stopped as if damned inside him. His breath caught within him. "Are you ready to learn" a voice asked. Spinning around, Michael saw the being that helped to change his life that night. An angel stood in front of him, bathed in a steady flow of bright, yet soft, light. His robes bulged with light armor beneath, and a golden bladed sword extended from his gauntlets.

"What... What do you want me to... to do" Michael asked the angel. Golden red locks of hair fluttered to an invisible wind.

"Ciedere."

Puzzlement played across Michael's face. He wiped the tears from his face, and suddenly it hit him, as if he suddenly understood this new language.

Ciedere.

Believe.

Wiping his eyes, Michael lifted himself from the padded weight-lifting bench. Smiling without a trace of sorrow for the first time in three days, Michael enjoyed the joy that night had allowed him. Leaving the room in a confident gait, Michael bumped straight into Cyborg.

"Hey! Feelin' a bit better, are we" Michael's face paled considerably.

Well, so much for keeping my recovery a secret...