A strange music filled the air. Tim felt his mind swim, and the world started going fuzzy around him. He fought the disorienting effect as hard as he could, but he knew he was losing. No. Tim thought. I can't let this happen! Suddenly the world snapped back into focus. He realized the sounds of his Enya CD were playing loudly into his ears, covering the Piper's music almost entirely.

Saved by the smooth songs of Enya. Tim thought with a slight grin. Laugh it up, Conner.

Tim quickly wormed the backpack straps onto his shoulders, careful not to dislodge the ear phones from his ears. All around him, the students were standing like statues, all of their attention focused entirely on the stage. Tim turned and watched the Piper. He was weaving slightly, and his fingers danced almost faster than the eye could follow up and down his strange looking flute.

Then, in an eerie unison, all of the students turned to face the teachers, still grouped in front of the stage and at the front of the auditorium for the most part. For the first time, Tim noticed that the adults seemed to be unaffected by the Piper's music.

Tim turned around to look at Jen, but she, too, was staring at the nearest teacher. Her face was expressionless, but there was an odd intensity to her gaze. It sent a shiver down Tim's spine. "Jen!" he whispered, not wanting to draw attention to himself from the Piper. "Snap out of it!" He took her shoulders and shook them. She didn't even look in his direction. He cupped his hands over her ears tightly and tried to block out as much as the music as he possibly could. Slowly, her eyes began to flutter. She shook her head as if coming out of a dream.

"What… What happened?" she said. "What are you doing?" At least, that's what it looked to Tim like she said. She grabbed Tim's hands and started trying to pry them from her ears. Tim shook his head vigorously, and then took her hands and placed them over her ears, pushing them hard to her head. He mouthed, "Don't let go."

Without warning, the student body started moving. Like a flock of birds or a school of fish, they moved as if they were all part of one body. As they approached the teachers, however, they started splitting into gangs. Tim watched these things, realizing that there was no way he would be able to snap all of the students out of their "spell" without getting noticed by the Piper and that there was a very good chance that Jen would join them as soon as he released his hold on her ears. On top of all that, beneath all of his concerns, he knew that acting at all in public was putting his persona as Robin on the line, as well as that of Batman and the others.

A scream rang out, loud enough for Tim to hear it even over his blaring headset. The students were attacking the teachers.

The deliberation was over. Tim Drake didn't hide behind Robin's mask when people's lives were in danger. Whatever the consequences, he knew that he had to help. He again mouthed to Jen, whose face had turned as white as a sheet, "Stay back," he said. She shook her head "No," but Tim was already gone.

As if launched into the air by a catapult, Tim leapt toward the stage. He knew he couldn't make it, but he jumped as far as he could. He landed on top of several students, dropping them to the ground. The students around him didn't even react to his presence. I need to take these students down as quickly and painlessly as possible. Tim thought. As much as these people don't like me, it isn't their fault they're acting like this.

The real solution, Tim realized, was taking down the man on the stage. Once that happened, hopefully the teenagers would return to normal. As the teachers screams of panic began to echo through the auditorium, Tim remembered what he'd overheard the teachers talking about earlier. He also remembered what they'd said about the screaming stopping suddenly and the terrible silence afterwards, and a chill ran down his back.

He decided then and there that the first order of duty was to get the teachers to safety. Then he could worry about the Piper.

The students were easy targets at first. Their attention fully focused on the adults in the room, Tim would drop student after student with as non-violent moves as he could. A chop to the neck here, a kick to the back of the knee there. Before long, however, the students began turning their attention to him. As Tim tried to pry his shoulder through a pair of students to reach one of the felled teachers, he felt a hand grasp his wrist. Then another hand grabbed his arm. In a matter of seconds, he was being held by a half-dozen students.

Tim knew that yelling was useless. They wouldn't hear what he said. If he was going to save the teachers, he was going to have to hurt a few students. I hope you don't remember this tomorrow, Tim thought. With a swift pull, he yanked his right arm free. He boxed the largest boys' ear, and kicked a tall boy in the chest, sending him reeling. With both arms free, he grabbed another boys' arm with both hands and pulled him around in front of himself, using him as a human shield to knock back the students surrounding him.

With an instant of breathing room, Tim leapt into the air and landed next to a pair of teachers who were cowering in fear. He sent a cheerleader reeling with a punch to the face, and followed his punch with an elbow to a snot-nosed bespectacled boy's throat.

Arms and legs worked in perfect symphony, sending students reeling and clearing an ever larger circle around the teachers. "Gather the teachers together!" Tim yelled as he fought. Chancing a glance towards the stage, Tim saw the Piper, continuing to play and dance as if nothing was wrong. He could have sworn the strange man's lips were curled into a smile around his flute. Sicko, Tim thought.

Suddenly, the students stopped fighting. They all stood like statues, once again. Tim stepped back, still crouched in a fighting stance, and did his best to assess the situation. He couldn't hear what the teachers were saying. His eyes darted across the walls, and an idea struck him. "Get into the locker room," he yelled and pointed towards the men's locker room that was on the right side of the stage. The door could be locked from the inside, and none of the students would have a key. He could keep the teachers safe in there. The teachers hesitated, still frightened. "Move!"

He started pushing the elderly and middle-aged men and women, now battered and bruised by the brutal attack at the students' hands, towards the locker room. Once again, a hand grabbed Tim's shoulder from behind. Tim turned as quick as lightning, swinging his fist as he turned. He stopped his hand just before is smacked into Jen's face. She ducked (though it would have been too late) and screamed.

"Jen?" Tim said, yelling because he was still wearing the headphones. "Are you okay?" He looked around. The rest of the students were still standing like statues. Then, Tim noticed the bits of cloth sticking out of Jen's ears. Good girl, Tim thought. "C'mon!" he yelled. He took Jen's wrist and pulled her inside the locker room, and slammed the door behind them.