Freedom.
Raven walked silently down an equally silent corridor, her padded feet emitting no sound as they struck the carpeted floor in a rhythmic fashion, one after the other.
It was a steady pace, one that she kept as she approached the living room of the tower.
She was met with a strange sight as soon as Raven entered the room. Furniture was overturned and placed at in a circular shape around the central area, as if to guard against unknown adversaries. Other then that however, everything seemed perfectly intact, which only added to the eccentricity of the layout.
Her robe billowed softly behind her as she walked, and fell still when she arrived at the kitchen area. Stainless steel cutlery and porcelain crockery littered the bench-tops and sink, and countless cupboards lined the walls above and around her.
Raven approached a small column of drawers, and she pulled open the second from last.
There, lying atop various cooking utensils and what appeared to be a century old can opener, were four long and ultimately deadly kitchen knives, their serrated edges glistening in what little moonlight managed to enter through the towering windows.
She encased them in obsidian energy and levitated them around her body as she simply grinned malevolently, her eyes slowly flooding crimson.
"Fuck! Did you see that?"
Crow whirled to face Bart, who looked as if he had just seen a ghost.
"See what?"
Bart didn't answer straight away, instead opting to strain his eyes further as he peered through his night vision goggles at a lime-green world.
Crow followed his gaze, but he was unable to spot anything out of place.
Bart still gazed, and he strained his ears as well.
Then he heard it, and it chilled him to the core.
"Hsssssssssss…"
A primal hiss, something that should not even exist. It sounded like something was breathing, but that thing should not be alive.
"Hsssssssssss…"
There it was again, closer this time, deadlier.
"Holy shit! Did you hear that?"
Crow was the one who didn't reply this time, signaling the fact that yes, he had indeed heard it.
"Hsssssssssss…"
Louder. Closer. Deadlier.
It could hear their heart pumping madly from within their chest, covered only in one layer of skin and some clothing.
Bart still gazed through his goggles, when he finally saw it. It was only for a split second, and then it was gone.
Bart raised his gun and fired it into the shadows, holding the trigger until the gun ran completely dry.
The hissing was no more.
Bart walked cautiously down the corridor, examining every inch of the hallway.
"Don't get too far, we have to move."
He continued to walk, and eventually turned a corner.
He saw nothing.
He turned back to his team-mates, but instead of Crow, all he saw was a prehistoric horror, covered in sickening green scales with an obscenely long tail and raptor talons that supported its lizard-like bulk.
It was a velociraptor, a perfect killing machine that should have been wiped out in the Cretacious era. Everything Bart saw simply defied logic.
Then again, the only thing Bart saw was the inside of its jaw, so it didn't really matter whether he thought it to be illogical.
Twenty-one down, four to go…
Cyborg was witnessing the aftermath of a vicious battle. Four soldiers, three wearing mercenary gear and the fourth a strange karate outfit, lay dead on the floor, their blood pooling out beneath their wounds.
"Two of them dead by metal impalement at the base of the skull." Cyborg listed emotionlessly.
"One dead via impalement through the chest cavity, below the heart."
"One dead via two bullet wounds in the back…wait."
Cyborg knelt down beside the karate-outfit-wearing individual and examined him more thoroughly.
"Correction: One critically wounded via two bullet wounds in the back."
Cyborg stated, scooping up the limp form of The Panther effortlessly and taking him to the infirmary.
"Master. The Panther has failed his mission."
Cold. Dark. Metal.
"He is dead then?"
A figure nodded. "Yes master."
Cyborg lay The Panther on the cold operating table on his stomach and proceeded to remove the two projectiles that were lodged in his back.
"Strange." Cyborg muttered to himself as he scanned The Panther once again.
Picking up a scalpel, Cyborg made an incision just behind the ear of The Panther and removed a small, gray chip that was lodged between his ear lobe and skull.
"Very strange." He finished, holding the chip up in the light of his torch.
He took the chip and placed it upon a bench-top, where he could examine it more thoroughly.
"Extremely strange."
Pieces of a much larger puzzle then Cyborg originally suspected were starting to fall into place.
The first thing that came across his mind was pain. It was agonizing. It originated from the centre of his back and made its way up and down his spine like an electric current, torturing his body and mind.
The Panther gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.
I should be dead. Why am I not dead?
A small moan of pain escaped his lips as he slowly sat up and swung his legs over the operating table he lay upon. He was in the infirmary, lying atop the same metal bed he wished he never would have to see again. He shuddered slightly and hopped off, only for his knees to buckle under the weight of his body, causing him to fall on his chest.
I can't feel my legs…
He rolled onto his back and, ignoring the overwhelming pain that wracked his body, forced himself to sit upright.
A tingling sensation crept up the back of his ear and skull, and he stroked the tender spot lightly with his fingers. It was the exact same spot where…
…I don't believe it…
It was the same spot where his tracking and body-monitoring chip was implanted so many years ago. The chip that had stripped him of his life, his freedom, and forced him to work like a slave and fight like a dog.
Now it was gone, he could feel it, sense it.
I have been granted my humanity…
But at what cost? He could no longer feel his legs, he should be dead, yet he was still breathing, still thinking, still reasoning.
He rubbed his legs vigorously, trying desperately to regain movement, and get blood flowing again. It could have been perceived as a futile attempt, but The Panther silently thanked the Gods as he slowly felt his legs warming up, and the all-too-familiar feeling of pins and needles creep up his legs.
After a few minutes of restless rubbing, The Panther finally regained full control of his feet and knees, and shakily stood erect, using the operating table as support.
He took a few uneasy steps towards the exit, holding onto anything sturdy enough to support him. It was as if he was learning to walk all over again, but this time at an accelerated rate. He extended his hand and gripped the doorknob tightly, swinging the wooden door open roughly. He cringed at the amount of noise he made, but he realized now that he was beyond caring.
He was nearly free, nearly home.
He proceeded down the corridor, each step he took more steady and confident then the last, until before long he was speeding down the hall in full stride, not a care in the world as to how much noise he made.
He was almost there, almost free, he could taste it.
Then he slowed down. He stopped, as a confusing set of emotions welled up beneath him. He felt something tugging at his gut, telling him to stop, and of all things, turn back.
Why?
He failed to comprehend this new feeling. It was one of guilt.
The Teen Titans may be capable, but the new threat of the SEAL's was even more pressing then the mercenaries. They knew what they were doing, and the Titans had no idea.
Why should I help them?
They need your help. Go back, help them defeat their enemy, then you can leave.
But freedom…
Go. Back.
It was his first choice. His first choice as a free man, and he savored every second of it.
SEAL six saw his objective.
The mercenaries –what remained of them- had stopped momentarily to do a head count. Once they realized that Bart was missing, they spared no-one in attempting to find him.
You lag behind, you are left behind.
SEAL six crept up silently behind the team of rag-tag soldiers, with the two satchel charges in hand.
I can't believe he talked me into this…
"Dammit Fischer…" SEAL six muttered beneath his breath as he closed the distance between him and them.
It would only take one mercenary to turn around…
No. Don't think like that. He crept closer…
All the SEAL members were reunited, sans SEAL six, who was away completing a mission of utmost importance.
They were clustered in the living area, where the mercenaries had set up earlier this night.
Fischer stood in the centre of the room, clutching his weapon loosely in his hands as he addressed the rest of his team.
"It seems the Teen Titans have split up in order to eliminate us. Therefore we need to push them back together, preferably to their sleeping area, as there is no retreat from there. We can then pin them and kill them without much hassle. Understood?"
There was a ripple of head shaking throughout the squadron as everyone nodded.
"Excellent. We stick together until I give the signal to split. Move out."
The SEAL team slowly filtered out from the living room and crept into the pitch black of the Tower's corridors, guns in hand.
They walked in silence, the only barely audible sound was the slight scuffle of their feet, but even that was lost beneath their heavy breathing.
Fischer abruptly raised an arm and the team stopped immediately. He pointed to a minor discrepancy in the shadows and flicked his night vision goggles on. It was a dark lump that rapidly approached the team, but its arms were raised in a gesture of peace.
Fischer lowered his weapon and noticed that it was actually SEAL six returning from his mission, and he exhaled a slight puff of air in relief.
"Mission accomplished."
Fischer nodded and motioned for SEAL six to join the rest of the crew.
Six accepted without hesitation.
They walked for a few more moments, until Fischer ordered them to stop once again. He held up two fingers and pointed to the corridor that veered to the left, and held up three fingers and did the same towards the right. Two members broke from the group and disappeared to the left, and another two to the right. That left SEAL six and Fischer once more by themselves as they continued directly forward.
Raven had been wandering, patrolling, even, the corridors for a while now, and she had lost count of the time. She had simply levitated the three knives she had pilfered from the kitchen draw and they circled her menacingly, as if they were guard dogs protecting their precious master.
"Spotted the girl named Raven. Awaiting orders to fire at will."
There was static, before Fischer spoke the two deadly words.
"Permission granted."
SEAL two didn't need to be told twice. He raised his gun and squeezed the trigger, sending forth a torrential volley of bullets.
Raven's eyes widened, and she barely had enough time to erect an energy shield to protect her before the bullets popped harmlessly on the obsidian glass wall. Her eyes cracked and sparked with energy and she sent forth all three of the knives towards her assailant.
They sped swiftly, cutting through the air like… well, like knives. They danced in midair, and this time it was SEAL two's turn to be surprised as he released his gun and fell to the ground, the knives narrowly missing his helmeted skull. Raven lowered her shield, as the bullets had now ceased momentarily and focused all her energy on her flying weapons, causing them to halt their current trajectory and spin madly before coming straight back for him. SEAL two withdrew his own knife and parried with the kitchen knives, deflecting them as they stabbed and swiped.
It was a strange sight, Raven with her arm held out straight and her eyes glowing black and white, whilst an elite SEAL member parried with three kitchen knives that seemed to have a mind of their own.
He was doing an admirable job however, swerving and dodging the lunges before finally spinning and delivering a vicious swipe upwards that managed to shatter one of the knives.
He was also doing a great job in distracting Raven as his teammate crept silently to the right of her and leveled his weapon at her exposed side.
He pressed the trigger of his own gun, but thanks to Raven's lightning quick reflexes, she used her right hand to erect another shield on her side. But now she was focusing her energy on two fronts, and it drained her rapidly. The knives were losing their ferocity, and both SEAL members could see that. Their strikes were less coordinated and passionate, and SEAL two took this lull in energy to shatter the final two kitchen knives with his combat knife.
He raised his M4 Carbine and squeezed the trigger yet again, and Raven was forced to create another shield.
With both her arms out and blocking bullets from both weapons, she was forced to take a few steps back, causing her shields to falter momentarily as she did so. The pressure of each round was overwhelming, and each blow yielded another step backwards.
Cyborg proceeded back towards the infirmary, a clean scalpel in hand.
"What the…" He dropped the scalpel and raised his sonic cannon as he observed his surroundings.
"Permission granted."
The first thing Cyborg felt was a slight tingling sensation, replaced by a more rapid tickling feeling. What he was feeling were bullets from each of the SEAL members' guns. The pressure slowly built, but Cyborg was unfazed, instead he fired his cannon in retaliation as he took a step backwards.
The bullets ceased for a moment, and Cyborg noticed a small cylindrical canister slowly flying towards his general direction.
Cyborg's human eye widened as his robotic mind analyzed and recognized the canister as a fragmentation grenade.
His first instinct was run.
He listened to that impulse, and retreated quickly as the bomb detonated and sent pieces of shrapnel in all directions. Most of the pieces bounced harmlessly off his titanium reinforced bulk, but a few managed to squirm their way into his exposed skin.
Cyborg roared in pain but he slowed his pace and retreated whilst firing his sonic cannon back behind him.
Another grenade caused him to curse profusely and flee the scene in rage.
"Sir? It seems that the leader and the alien are sticking together, but the Beast-Boy is still unaccounted for."
Fischer gritted his teeth. This was a tough call.
"Ok. You go and find the animal kid. I'll take care of these two."
SEAL six nodded and shuffled off.
Fischer raised his M4, brought it up to his face and peered down the aiming reticule. He proceeded cautiously down the corridor, its distinct lack of windows providing no moonlight to betray his cover.
Then he saw them.
"Starfire, we really should split up. We'll be more useful to the others that way, and-."
Robin flicked his head up and turned slightly to the left and right.
He then slowly turned and stared directly at Fischer's hiding place, and Fischer's heart stopped.
"Starfire." He began, not taking his eyes off Fischer's concealed mass. "There is a soldier hiding in those shadows were I'm staring right now. He has night vision goggles on, so on the count of three, I want you to charge up the brightest Starbolt you can possibly do, understood?"
Starfire gulped before nodding tentatively.
"One…"
Robin shuffled and changed his position slightly.
"Two…"
He bent his knees and narrowed his eyes, and all Fischer could do was watch as this strange child kept altering his stance.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say he was getting ready for a fight, but he can't see me…"
"Three!"
And all of Fischer's world was utter agony.
Starfire had ignited a massive Starbolt, pumping as much energy as she could into it and holding her hand high as she did so.
Fischer's retinas burned painfully and he tore his goggles off in a tortured yell. He rubbed his eyes madly, trying to refocus and see clearly, but all he could see where strange, multi-coloured spots.
He fired his gun insanely, raining bullets upon everything he aimed at as he spun. This prevented Robin from approaching and finishing off the soldier, so instead he and Starfire retreated to a safe distance.
SEAL six saw the green boy walking casually past a decapitated mercenary, grinning slightly.
He raised his gun and aimed at Beast Boy, tracking his movements before finally releasing the safety and firing at him.
Beast-Boy ducked and spun, trying to get a good view of his assailant. All he saw was darkness and a slight flash after each bullet fired.
Beast-Boy called upon his gorilla form again and lumbered towards SEAL six, totally disregarding the fact that he had been shot seven times in the chest. He swung, but six was too quick, and he rolled out of the way before withdrawing his knife and stabbing Beast-Boy's massive green fist.
Beast-Boy roared in anger and lumbered back before swinging again, but six dodged once more and this time clutched his hair arm as Beast-Boy withdrew it upwards. Using this motion SEAL six spun in midair over Beast-Boy's head and embedded his dagger in Beast-Boy's back, narrowly missing his spine.
Beast-Boy roared again, but this time it was a more pained roar, one that echoed agony as well as hate.
He lumbered away, before turning into a dragonfly and buzzing off, his wounds nonexistent.
Detonation in… (14) minutes and (13) seconds…