Chapter 4: Broken

"Who sent you?" The demand reverberated through the otherwise silent living room, Cyborg and Raven standing still and somber. Hale remained impassive, his weathered and stubble-covered chin making no movement to signal that he was about to speak. Robin looked upon his determined face and sighed wearily.

"Either you talk, or Raven gets her revenge on you for snooping in her room."

"That information is classified."

Robin raised his eyebrow and spoke once more. "So be it."

He then turned to Raven and nodded. Raven removed the hood from her head, revealing her short purple hair and a pair of azure eyes that lay upon an ashen face.

"This is for breaking into my room."

She grinned malevolently as her eyes turned crimson and her blue cloak became bathed in shadow. She seemed to grow taller, and from underneath her cloak, black tendrils seeped through, hugging the floor and heading towards Hale. Hale's eyes widened tremendously. "This is no superhero, this is a demon!" Hale thought to himself as he attempted to evade the tendrils. He leapt on the sofa and propelled himself into the air, the tentacles barely missing his ankles as he tucked his feet in. He landed on the carpeted floor and rolled instinctively to the right, and the tentacles once again missed their mark.

"Stop moving, foolish boy!" Raven growled in a voice that was not her own as more tentacles escaped from beneath her and sped towards Hale. One tentacle found Hale's left ankle and latched on with amazing strength, whipping him off balance and throwing him towards a nearby wall. Another tentacle wound its way around Hale's right leg, and another two grabbed his arms. Hale struggled desperately, but the bonds were like a vice, and no matter how he squirmed he could not free himself. He was being pulled to the ground, dragged towards something so dark light could not illuminate its black recesses.

"No!" Hale yelled as he felt himself move closer towards it, towards what could very well be his sanity's final resting place. Fear gripped him as the black wall approached, and he thrashed like a wild animal, the shadow tendrils never relinquishing. With a final cry, he entered, and he didn't hear Robin's pleads for Raven to stop, only Raven's sadistic laughter.

He saw something in there he wished he never would again. This was no flashback, no memory. He was re-enacting the death of his daughter all over again, and no matter how tightly he tried to shut his eyes, they would not close.

"Daddy look at me! I'm a bird!"

Honey, be careful. These streets are dangerous, don't wander too far!

"I'm not worried! I can fly away from danger!"

I know you can Amy, but stay close. The sooner we leave the better.

"Hey sweetie, come and see my toys. I have plenty over here."

"My daddy says I shouldn't talk to strangers!"

"You're 'daddy' doesn't love you. Now get over here!"

"No! Let me go! DADDY!"

Honey? AMY? Where are you!

I was running, my feet aching with each step I took, and my head throbbed in anger and hopelessness. Where are you? Over and over again, I yelled. Where are you? Where are you?

Where are you…

No… Amy!

I saw them. I saw the monsters that had my baby. My daughter. My angel. They were doing unspeakable things, and in an instant I forgot who I was. Greg Hale, LAPD Police officer, was gone, blinded by rage, by hatred, until he, I, turned into something I wish I never will again. My skin burned, and the alleyway I stood in was illuminated in a brilliant light, my light. The light came from me. I saw these monsters' skin boil and seethe. Their flesh came apart slowly, torturously, peeling apart piece by piece, this was better illuminated with the light that emanated from my body.

Amy… She would still be with me if I hadn't…

She was gone now. Gone thanks to me, and these wretched powers of mine. She died in the same way her tormentors did. She didn't deserve that kind of death. No-one did.

Hale gasped as he was pulled out from his horrifying ordeal. His eyes looked around madly at each of the Titan's faces, until they landed on Raven's. She was crying. Her head was cradled in her delicate palms and her body shuddered with each sob. Tears seeped through her fingers and fell to the ground below, melting away into nothing. Hale's cloud grey eyes regained their focus and composure, but his heart was still beating madly.

"What the HELL was that?" Hale asked angrily, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. No-one answered, and Raven turned and buried her face in Mark's shoulder, who had arrived along with Starfire and Beast-Boy moments ago. Mark was slightly taken aback at this sudden gesture, but he raised his arms and hugged Raven tightly, holding her close as she continued to cry.

The fire was long gone, and all that remained was a small figure, barely recognizable now that his intestines had been shredded to oblivion. His final resting place was a small crater in a once busy street.

"Your time in this world is not yet through, pawn. Your holographic properties will be of some value to me. Rise, Hak'tir'a, for that is your true name. Rise, and obey your true master Chron'ita'r." A red aura enveloped a foreign figure's pale fist, growing in intensity until it submerged all of Psyche's body in crimson. Shattered bone and torn flesh were being resurrected, rejuvenated, and the metallic fragments that lay scattered and broken on the street around him rose and fell into place on Psyche's body.

The figure that had been kneeling moments ago rose to its feet and gazed towards the Titans' Tower.

"Soon, Titans. Very soon."

"It-It was horrible. What they did to the girl… What he did to them… and his daughter…" Raven spoke between sobs. Mark looked at the kneeling figure of Hale with pitying eyes.

"Raven, what happened?" Mark asked cautiously.

Raven shook her head vigorously as she freed herself from Mark's comforting grip.

"I-I have to go." She levitated away and sank through the living room wall, disappearing in an instant. Mark watched her go and sighed inwardly.

"It's happening again. Something is going to happen. Why do I feel like I'm powerless to stop it?"

"Because you are." Mark told himself sadly and slumped into a chair.

"What-What do you want to know?" Hale muttered through clenched teeth, the memory of his loss still burned into his mind. Robin seemed distracted, and didn't hear Hale when he spoke.

"My name is Greg Hale, Agent number 4-0-3 of the National Security Agency's Covert Ops and Experimental Weapons Division. My mission was to find a book entitled Chronicles of Zarlon. Anything else I do not know." He said sadly and with great effort lifted himself up off his knees and stood erect. Robin raised an eyebrow and turned to face the agent.

"Why?" Was all he said.

"I don't know. I'm a grunt. I do my mission, retrieve the package, that's all. My superiors decide what to do with it."

Robin eyed the agent for a moment, trying to determine whether or not he was lying. He quickly abandoned the attempt, as he knew that it would be impossible.

"Why would the NSA, of all agencies, organize an infiltration of our home, just to steal a book? It doesn't make any sense." Robin thought out loud as he paced the room.

"Hale! What the hell is going on?" Hale's microphone crackled to life in his ear, and he heard the voice of his superior.

"Everything's fine and dandy here, sir." Hale said, making no attempt to conceal his voice. Robin turned and gazed at him curiously.

"What did you say?" Robin asked as he walked towards the agent.

"Have you reached the objective or not?"

"That's a negative, sir. I'm just having a chat with Robin."

"What the Hell?" Robin exclaimed to no-one in particular. He hated not knowing everything about a situation, and that is exactly what was happening now.

"You… You what?"

"Sorry sir, gotta run, talk later." Without waiting to hear the cries of protest from his superior Hale unplugged the microphone from his ear and laid it on the table in front of him.

"Who was that?" Robin asked, still fuming in anger.

"That was my superior." Hale replied simply.

Robin slumped slightly and turned to Cyborg.

"Cy, take this guy into the cells and lock him up. We'll keep him there until we find out what exactly is going on."

Cyborg nodded and turned to the agent. For a moment Hale thought about fighting his way out, but he soon realized that fighting was out of the question when it came to the imposing, metallic figure of Cyborg. Hale resigned to his fate and allowed Cyborg to take him to his prison cell.

"Is this even legal?" Hale asked him, but he received no reply.