Unsuspected Heroes

An alternative look at the Prophecies Universe

A/N: As bloody as the swordfights have been up to this point (hey, that's what happens when one uses blades), I feel that I should warn all you readers that things are going to get even more 'messy' from now on. Speaking flat out, this means deaths. Lives and what you may have thought of as plotlines cut short.

Sweet Azar… Raven, normally a fairly graceful person, staggered backwards upon walking into the common room. She had been disturbed by a commotion while meditating in her room and come to investigate. Who could be so brutal?

Red X's body lay in a crimson pool, decorated by numerous lacerations that still leaked blood, though it was certainly not due to any activity of the thief's heart. He was uncompromisingly dead, pinned to the floor by a blunt-edged saber which had once been white through his heart. "A color guard saber…" She shook her head. Surely that boy couldn't have done this. Sighing, she closed the death-dulled blue eyes of Red X's finally-unmasked visage, and shuddered at the look of sheer horror that was engraved on the dead thief's face.

It reminded her of the aftermath of Trigon's attack on Azarath.

As brutal as what had happened to X, the other bodies in the room were worse. Upon the capture and medical treatment of Jinx in Titan's Tower, the city had insisted on having a crack squad of the JCPD's Metahuman Control Unit present to provide security on any breakout attempts the pink-haired girl would make. None of the Titans found it likely that she would even take up crime again after what Ker had done to her with that blade, but they humored the city, so long as the black and white armored cops stayed inconspicuous. In fact, Cyborg had gotten into a poker group with a few of them.

Raven rather doubted that Cyborg would be playing cards with them anytime soon. It seemed that the squad had decided to take advantage of the common room while the Titans were out…and were simply caught at the wrong place at the wrong time.

'Butchered' was the only word applicable.

Corpses missing limbs, heads, a few split in half…the grisly remains only heightened her memories of the graveyard that Azarath had become. The worst was one who had a gaping wound across his torso, a slash that had opened him up, but not cut through, leaving shredded internal organs on display. That brought back even more bad memories.

Of course, it wasn't Trigon who did it. That much was obvious. No demonic aura on the wounds, for one. And there was one corpse who was untouched outside of a dime-sized hole burnt through the helmet. Trigon would have never done something like that. No, he or any of his minions would have desecrated them all. Nor would they have given the cops time to fire back, she mused, noting numerous scorch marks on the walls.

"It's almost as if this was simply the most effective mode of fighting for them…" That brought up memories of Ker's definition of 'fights'. She clutched her pendant. It couldn't be Ker. It just couldn't.

But…it could be someone who shared his philosophy on fighting…

"So that's the story," finished Raven over the T-com. "I think I may have a lead on tracking down whoever did it. Raven out."

"No, wait!" commanded Robin, to no avail. Raven's image had already winked out. "Dammit. She's being way too impetuous."

"That's not like her at all," observed Beast Boy.

"Well, it's not like she's been living her usual life lately," pointed out Cyborg.

"True enough," agreed Robin, "But we've still got the problem that someone is out there, ready to slaughter, and Raven's plowing full steam ahead."

"Well then, we must assist our friend!" insisted Starfire. There was no dissent.

"Demon blood isn't poisonous, is it?" asked Ker as he spat out a mouthful of the aforementioned.

"Depends on the type," grunted Templar. "RAAH!" The armored warrior's longsword bit deeply into the flesh of a red-skinned demon, freeing another rush of the black ichor. "Nothing in the books about these being like that."

Ker rolled his eyes as he thrust both his blades out at a pair of demons charging at either of his sides, impaling them both. "Naze," he muttered sardonically as he twisted his swords and went into a spin that ripped them out of his opponents, leaving them to fall spewing to the ground. "Because I'd certainly hate to be spending a night on a cult that summoned competent servants."

Templar yanked his blade free and rolled to the side to avoid a club. "Oh, come on, Kenkaku, they aren't that bad of fighters for hellspawn. Besides, there are certainly enough of them." He came to his feet and shoulder-blocked another one while stabbing his sword through another beast's gut.

"Pfeh." Two simultaneous silver arcs freed sprays of ebon gore from the throats of yet two more of the demons facing Ker. He vaulted them, stabbing his blades into either shoulder of another, twisting himself through the air in an acrobatic trick that shredded the demon's torso below him. A whirling series of blocks, counters, and disarms started as his feet hit the ground, precise as any form. "You can't be serious. Just because something is strong…"

"Doesn't mean that it doesn't have skill. I know, I know." Templar swept his leg through his shoulder-blocked opponent's, dropping it to the ground, where he finished it with an economical throat stab that doubled as defense against an axe swing that he deflected high, letting him work an open cut across the belly of the demon in. "All I'm saying is, God has given us an enemy that he finds us worthy of."

"Fates above! I told you to shut up about religion!" Ker broke free of the crowd of summoned demons and skidded across the floor to where a VERY unholy altar was set up. A slash of Kanesada broke the runes upon it and elicited a wail of anguish from the cult's high priest. Raising a sacrificial dagger, he charged at Ker…only to slump to the ground as a fist full of sword hilt smashed into his nose, breaking it.

The pony-tailed swordsman flicked the blood off of his blades and sheathed them. According to the research they had done, the ability of the summoned demons to exist on this plane was directly related to the state the altar was in. Sure enough, Templar came wading out of a sea of the demonic bodies, wiping down his sword with a cloth. "So, where are the cultists?"

Ker quirked an eyebrow, then nodded. "That's right. You were still tied up with freeing the sacrifices when the spell went active, weren't you?" He shrugged back at the piles of demons. "Each of the cultists was to be a gateway and vessel for the soldier that came to our plane. I imagine that Mr. Happy-Stabby here would have become gateway for a lesser demon lord."

"Fitting, I suppose. To be committed to something so evil, and be consumed by it…"

"They're not so different than you, Templar. Now, get the leader and drop him off at the nearest police station." Ker grimaced as he looked at the runes adorning the walls…along with the very familiar kanji. "I've got some research to do."

About an hour later, Ker walked out of the temple to find Templar waiting for him. "Well, it looks like this was a group of scouts. Some big demon lord is likely to be pissed at us. Scath. You know of one by that name?"

"No…but it does sound familiar. By the way…your girlfriend called."

"Well, I guess we'll need to do some research…wait. Did you say my girlfriend called?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I haven't even told you her NAME."

"Come on Kenkaku…I know you're from Jump City. How many female half-demons are you going to find there? Besides, why else would Raven be calling for a largely unknown swordsman? By the way, wasn't her hair supposed to be purple?"

"Naturally…sure. What did she have to say?"

"She asked if there was anyone you knew of that had the same philosophy on fighting as you did. Seems there's some trouble back in your hometown."

"Kuso."