A/N: Thanks again, for the kind reviews. I'm sorry if you find this one a bit long; I wanted to get as much in as possible. If you have any questions about any of the chapters, don't be afraid to ask in a review. I don't have much to say here, other than I hope the chapter speaks for itself, and that you enjoy it. Adieu for now.

--

The wind whispered soft words of warning under the amber sky. I shivered, and rubbed my left arm. I was nowhere.

The city square, normally a bustling, active hubbub around the late afternoon now lay desolate and silent. Not a soul lay in sight, except for a single statue carved in a most peculiar fashion near a café. I walked up to it, intrigued. It was a woman, her eyes filled with horror, her mouth yawning in an eternal scream. In her arms she grasped a young babe, pressing him against her chest. Stone tears rolled down the lad's cheeks, and he gripped his mother's shirt in fear. Both held each other in vain hope that they could somehow shield themselves from whatever it was that was terrorizing them.

Then I realized that they weren't statues. They were humans.

"So this is another way the incubuses kill. Through scaring their victims to death," I murmured, touching the mother's hand. Her skin felt like icy marble. I sighed, and summoned a checkered tablecloth from inside the café. I gently placed the tablecloth over the mother and son, feeling it was the best I could do for now. Until I could reverse all the monstrosities that I had unleashed.

I stepped away from them, and observed my surroundings. Despite the eerie silence, and the morbid scenario behind me, all was…normal. No dark matter seeping out from alleyways and plaguing the streets, no red-eyed bogeymen threatening to cleanly dismember me. As I said before, I was nowhere. It was as if Rage had evaporated into thin air. Even the monotonous throbbing in my head, which had only increased as I had gotten here, had vanished. Thank Azar for small favors.

Then a thought occurred to me. As real and psychopathic Rage may be, she was still only a sentiment, an emotion. My emotion. This, theoretically, would mean we should remain mentally and spiritually 'connected'. If I meditated hard enough, I could probably still contact her, and in doing so, figure out where she was. Brilliant.

I levitated several meters into the air, and crossed my legs in a lotus position. I breathed in deeply, exhaled. I raised the tips of my fingers to my temple, and muttered, "Azarath…Metrion…Zynthos…"

Then my stomach lurched. And for a second, I think I ceased to exist.

I felt my soul self streak down abandoned city streets, dash around curbs and finally slip into a moss-covered gutter. Once inside the city sewage system I traveled through slime dripping walls and rusted pipes, a stench of rotting organic material infiltrating my nostrils. Then I paused for a split-second as the pipe I was traveling in opened up into a huge, almost vacuous space half-filled with sewage. I plunged into the revolting cesspool and swam until the bottom, where a small hatch lay. It sprang open without me even having to command it. I felt myself get swiftly sucked in, and then found myself in blackness. Out of the dark four crimson eyes flew open, and Rage's leering, haunting voice whispered,

"Found me."

My eyes burst open with a start, and I almost toppled out of the air as my thoughts swam in rampant circles in my head. I steadied myself, and found that I was gulping for air, gasps escaping from my throat. I placed an ashen hand on my heart – it had been a long time since I had felt it beat so hard.

I floated to the ground, and placed a hand on the concrete. Rage's words echoed in my ears…they disturbed me. It was as if she was expecting me…better yet, waiting for me. Joy. She probably had this planned out all along. I couldn't wait to see what surprise she had for me.

Using my psychokinetic abilities, I pried open a sewer hole which lead down to the under-city pipes. I peered down into the dank atmosphere, seeing nothing but darkness, yet feeling it just as much. Guess there was only one way to find out.

--

Victor Stone's dark eyes cracked open slowly. Everything was blurry, and he felt deeply sedated…he couldn't remember where he was or what had happened to him…come to think of it, he couldn't remember much at all.

He felt different. For some reason, he felt more…human. Slowly, almost painstakingly, he lifted his left hand. In the bright light that blinded him from above, he could barely make out the silhouette of a large, weathered, human hand. "Human…" Victor thought. The word was alien to him. He slowly reached up his right hand to feel his left, as if to make sure of something. Human flesh encasing coarse bones. "Flesh…" That thought was alien to him too.

He began to sit up, but felt something tugging at his head. He reached up to feel something large and metallic covering his skull, sharp needles piercing several points of his cranium. Suddenly someone came rushing up to him, a professional yet maternal voice hushing at him to "Lay down honey, we're not quite done with the experiment yet. We still need to introduce several new bits of data into your head, and it will take at least another half-hour. Just keep still."

"Experiment…wait, what experiment… I'm a human being…experiments are things you do with guinea pigs or something…why isn't some critter being injected in the head with info?"

"Mom…" Victor croaked out weakly. His head hurt; it felt like he a thousand bolts of information surged into his brain every second. Names of people who he had never heard of, dates of things he had never cared to learn about, equations, formulas, theories, hypotheses, philosophies, the largest square pandigital number, the scientific name for a platypus.

"9,814,072,356; Ornithorhynchus anatinus."

"…" He needed an aspirin the size of Mount Rushmore. Which was carved in the Black Hills of South Dakota between the years of 1927 to 1941 with an average of 4.666666667 years between the carving of each face, rounded to the nearest one thousand millionth.

"I need to get out of here."

Victor slowly got up, and began to pull out every needle that stood connected to his head, one by one. He ignored the pain, and his parent's sudden gasps.

"Victor!" yelled his father, dropping his clipboard and racing to restrain his son. He tried to lay him down, but the young Stone began struggling viciously, still trying to pluck out the remaining needles. "Son, calm down! We're…still…not…done with…the experiment…! Martha, get the sedatives!"

Victor's eyes widened in horror as those last words left his father's lips. Didn't they understand he was their son, not some test subject? With a roar he pushed past his father, pain racking his body as the final needles ripped themselves from his head. He straggled drunkenly towards the large, metal door that led out of his parent's laboratory, only to find it bolted and locked. He slumped against it, sinking to the floor, his sense of reality slowly slipping from him. He heard his mother's footsteps and the hiss of the syringe as it spilled out new sedative. He stumbled on his hands and knees to a corner, pressing his back against it in terror. Somewhere he heard his father's voice command, "Victor, son, we don't want to hurt you…we just need to finish this last experiment…"

"No…no…mreom, nooooww…" he slurred, clawing the bleached wall, hoping to somehow scratch through the uneven stucco. He felt his mother whisper calmly, "Now Victor, just relax…" No, he couldn't relax. There was a game this afternoon, he needed to be there, the boys were counting on him…he was the damn MVP. This was the final match; he couldn't just stand them up…

"NOOOOO!" He cried, shoving his mom into the wall, trying to escape from this hell-house. But it was too late; he felt the prick of the needle as his father injected him with the mind-dozing serum. He felt his reality sliding, the walls closing in, Lincoln's marble face dancing in front of his eyes, and someone carrying him back to the examiner's chair, someone placing that wretched device back on his head. Needles clink in, data flows again. Names, dates, numbers, equations, formulas…

He hated them. He hated those people he called his parents. Those people who saw him as nothing but a chance to use a human subject for their ridiculous artificial human intelligence enhancing projects. He didn't care if he was stupid, he just wanted to be normal, to be able to make Saturday afternoon games and then celebrate victories with the boy's at Pop's later. He hated his parents. He wasn't their son, he was their lab rat.

He wished they would just die.

--

Rage let her hand drop from Cyborg's forehead, feeling rejuvenated. Despite this young man's seemingly calm exterior, he held a lot of resentment inside, a lot of rage. Perfect. Rage fed off rage, became stronger the more fury it was given. She had already finished sucking the remaining vehemence from the other two Titans – young, angst-ravaged adolescents were always the best fountain of rabid emotions. Especially ones with shredded, murky pasts – it was a feast. Raven was really such a bore, always controlling her feelings, always making sure every sentiment remained in check. She was so restrained; no wonder after one simple argument she broke.

"The straw that broke the camel's back, or rather the monkey that plucked the Raven featherless. I really must thank that brainless fool when my incubuses finally catch him." Rage thought to herself.

She checked the large, elaborately designed pentagram on the ground for the last time. Every incantation was complete, every intricate symbol revised. Nothing could be mal-drawn, lest everything go awry. She knew that the only way to completely separate herself from Raven was through this ritual, for although now she could wreck plenty of havoc and destruction, she still had a weakness, she could still be subdued. However, once she broke free, no one would be able to subdue her.

Not even Raven, the one who had created her.

An incubus perked up his ragged ears and growled softly, his beady eyes focused on the small hatch that led into the large room on the ceiling. The hatch slowly began to twist, then exploded abruptly, and a black shadow darted into the room. Despite the fact that the hole remained open, not a drop of water fell inside.

"Speak of the demon." Rage smiled maliciously.

--

The darkness melted away from me, revealing myself completely. About a dozen incubuses surrounded the circular room I was in, growling and snarling softly, but they did not move to attack. I bore my violet eyes into Rage's flaming ones, and then spotted the large design on the ground. I raised my eyes up in mild surprise.

"You're trying to Separate yourself from me."

"Indeed, Raven."

"That way I won't be able to defeat you. You'll be invincible."

"Nothing passes you, does it child?"

"I'm not a child. And I'm not going to allow you to do this."

Suddenly my eyes caught the three bodies suspended in the air, monstrous serpentine-shaped incubuses entwined around them, their sharp fangs sunk deep into their necks. I froze, my irises shrunken, raw dread trickling down my back. "Friends…"

I turned to Rage, my face livid. "What have you done to them?" I spat out to her, black orbs already forming around my hands.

Rage's face for once showed no expression. Only her eyes were visible from the insides of her hood, as she rasped out slowly. "Right now they are reliving every moment that caused them anger, fury. Rather interesting stories too. Cyborg resents the treatment his family gave him as a child; Starfire feels inside pain and suffering in the fact that her sister surpasses her in everything she does; Robin will never forget the hate he feels for Slade and the bandits who killed his family as a child. With these feelings, I feed. I get stronger."

She rose into the air, outstretching her arms. "Unfortunately I never got around to meeting that snot-colored friend of yours – Beast Boy is his name, correct? Or Gar – as you so lovingly call him."

Her eyes narrowed to slits, and a large, fanged grin spread out across her face as she mused, "I wonder what causes him most internal anguish. His dog-bitten past – or your cold and reclusive treatment of him."

I felt my heartstrings twinge. Rage's words were like poison-tipped arrows; they sank into my soul and burned me from inside. My hands were trembling, yet I knew the chaos that would ensue should I loose control. Instead I retained an icily passive face as I spoke in an almost distanced voice.

"I never wanted to hurt Beast Boy. I just wanted to protect him from evil that was slowly sprouting in me."

I raised my hands and my eyes clouded with a murky blackness.

"Namely you!"

Two large blasts of dark energy exploded from my hands, aimed directly at Rage. Rage raised her gnarled fingers, and then shot her own blood-burnt energy back at me. The two blasts collided, one straining against the other, nothing but a test of sheer willpower. I felt all the anger Rage had collected push back at me, all the resentment, the hatred, the fury. I couldn't fight against it. Rage cackled, her energy finally consuming all of mine and catching me square in my chest. It flung me into a wall of the room, forming a deep crack in its surface as I crashed against it.

I collapsed to the floor, motionless.

Rage laughed again, a hollow, satanic laugh. "Don't you understand, child? You cannot defeat me. How can you defeat something that is in equal power to yourself, if not greater? It is just like fighting against a mirror. I know how you think; I know all your weaknesses. You cannot hope to win."

I slowly raised my head, forcing myself to stand up despite the large, throbbing bruises newly formed on my body. "Then I guess I'm going to have to break my mirror," I breathed.

I darted into the air, and raised my hands again.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zynthos!"

Several pieces of scrap metal shot themselves at Rage, their sharp edges pointed directly at her chest. Rage simply deflected them by creating a temporary shield out of her magick.

"Humph, please tell me you can do better than tha-"

Rage's words died on her lips as black blood escaped from them. She looked down to see one carefully twisted piece of metal suddenly protruding out of her stomach. Blood dripped down her legs and dissolved before they touched the ground. She scowled and slowly began wrenching the object from her body. "Wretched brat…" she muttered furiously.

While I knew that this would do nothing to her, it bought me some time. I rushed to my friends, intent on saving them from the incubuses coiled around them.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zynthos!" I cried, directing my destructive powers towards the leviathans. They hissed as they evaporated into wisps of smoke. I pulled them down to the ground, quickly checking their vitals.

I reached for Starfire first, and choked back a gasp. This wasn't the Starfire I knew; her normally warm and lush face was pale and blood-drained, her vivid eyes of emerald were now a sickly moss color. I softly touched her neck, begging to Azar that there would be a pulse, even if it were faint. Her skin felt like marble. I waited, waited yet…

Nothing.

A vision passed through my head; the mother's face, the child's tears.

No. Starfire couldn't be dead. Not the joyful, rambunctious alien girl who called me her 'friend', even if I often acted far from it. The girl who would occasionally join me during morning meditation, and then speak to me about her birthplace of Tamaran. The Titan who let me be as I am, and accept me for it.

How could I have let her die?

I rushed towards the other Titans; Robin, Cyborg. I felt for pulses, begging, hoping, praying to Azar that they were safe, alive.

Nothing, nothing. Not a beat, not a breath, not a stir. Both of my teammates…my friends…were dead.

It was my entire fault.

I gently slipped my hand out from under Robin's head, carefully closing his still wide-opened eyes. My own eyes blinked back acid tears. I heard footsteps behind me, the clatter of my crude steel weapon as it was thrown aside, a voice I will always and forever hate.

"They're dead. You came too late, Raven."

I snapped my head to Rage, who was standing a few meters away from me. I couldn't feel anything, except for one, silent emotion that kept throbbing, gnawing, worming its way out of my soul. Rage.

I didn't say a word as I shot up into the air, black energy crackling around my body. I couldn't. I had never felt such a rush of emotions at once, yet feel so numb at the same time. The energy only intensified as I barely breathed out last words.

"You…I will destroy you…Rage."

"I think I've already destroyed you, Raven." Rage sneered from under her hood.

I hovered in the air, yet my eyes didn't cloud as I readied myself to attack. Instead they mimicked Rage's, flaring crimson. I think I might've seen a flicker of apprehension on Rage's face.

I spurted towards her, throwing blast after blast of psychokinetic energy. She darted and veered, creating simple shields to protect herself, yet I didn't give her a chance to fire back. We dashed around the confinements of the room, I relentless in my pursuit of her. I wanted her obliterated. I wanted her to pay for my friend's murder.

Rage shrieked in anguish as one of my blasts shot her down, right in the center of her pentagram. I threw a look at the scrap metal scattered around the room, quickly using my magick to melt them all and reconstruct them into crude spikes. My eyes turned to slits as I eyed Rage, lying on the ground, spitting out blood. I gestured my arm to the spikes, and they rose at my command.

"This ends now," I whispered to myself. "Azarath, Metrion, ZYNTHOS!"

Rage only had a second to register as seven or so steel pikes rained down on her, impaling her through her arms and leg, one making its way through the chest-wound she already sustained. She remained motionless as I flew down to her, yet a coy smile played on her lips.

"Very good Raven, very clever. But do you honestly think my death will make up for the death of your –"

"SHUT UP!"

I trembled slightly as my hands hovered over Rage's pinned body. "I'm not going to listen to you again. After this, I won't have to."

"Creature of Azarath, son of my breath,

Death to birth and birth to death

Hold all evil safe at bay,

Day to night and night to day."

I waited for the feeling of my soul self seeping out from my body, then I could finish the incantation to finally annihilate Rage. Yet nothing happened. I gazed curiously at my hands, and repeated the spell. Again, my soul self remained in my body. Rage began to snicker, a soft giggle slowly making its way up to a maniac's howl. I stared at her as without warning the splinters dislodged themselves from her body, rocketing up into the air and toppling to the ground behind me. Rage stood up, and forcibly removed the one that had lodged itself into her chest wound. She flipped it in her hand, and said in a slow susurrus,

"You forget, that once in the circle of Separation, any supernatural power or incantation is useless. Or did the Monks of Azarath forget to teach you that?"

I almost didn't feel the force of the stake as it tore through my shoulder's flesh and bone, shredding muscle and extruding out the other side. My nerves somehow had managed to shut themselves off completely. All I could feel was the torrent of blood that trickled down my hand, dripping down the tips of my fingers. Every drop echoed in my head.

Rage still held on to the other side of the stake, and sneered as she pulled it out of my shoulder. I couldn't think, couldn't breath. All I felt was the faint sense of unsettlement.

Rage changed something and a supersonic pealreverberated around the walls of the chamber. The ground below me pulsed once and melted away.

The last thing I saw was Rage's vibrant eyes. And I was falling, falling, falling.

--

Ah, one last thing – I changed the chapter title for chapter two…I didn't really like it, it doesn't really fit the nature of the story. …Dunno if you even noticed it, or even cared, hah.