Five children stand in the shadows of the gently rocking cabin. Rusted metal floor and walls stretch around them. And as their bodies bob up and down in the uncontrollable imbalance, they remain ever still. Ever resolute.

Ever quiet.. …Like a damned village.

With a leg propped up on a wooden crate, the tallest-and-thinnest of the group stands. His pale jumpsuit is a silvery-reflective ghost sheet that matches the snow-white sheen of his skin. His hair is a wispy-ivory puff of follicle 'smoke'. Black tattoo designs swirl up and form rings just beneath two glaring, bulbous eyes of pure insanity. He grins a Cheshire nightmare as he flexes his fingers, produces puffs of white-hot-mist, and glares across the cabin with quiet, psychotic glee.

To his left poutingly stands a young girl with emerald green hair. She is dressed in blue so dark, it's almost black as it hugs her shapely figure in a two-piece mesh of sparsely armored spandex. She bears a frown—a look of being endlessly disgruntled. Red and orange arteries visibly end in green bulbs at her temples, elbows, midriff—and other exposed bits of skin like a venus fly trap about to explode. She flares her nostrils and waits, waits, waits—as if impatient for the world to end.

In the center of the group stands a petite young boy who—in spite of his youth and shortness—possesses a fiery countenance capable of tossing over a mountain. He wears a dark-purple suit entrenched about a nimble frame of amber-orange skin. Fiery tufts of hair trail down his tight forehead in a series of furious braids. His eyebrows are shaved… …butcheringly, and far higher upon his forehead than is otherwise considered 'normal'. He too looks hormonally pissed off at the world as he waits.. …waits… …waits….

Next is a young lady with long, dark-gray flowing hair. Like a stormcloud descending from her gentle head. Her bodysuit is a sleek, reflective gray. And so is the cape that drapes gracefully over her shoulder. Metal bits glitter along the hem and appear to be encrusting the edges of her eyes like a silver mine is bursting slowly out from inside her lithe frame. A pair of clunky 'discs' form huge bracelets to her thin wrists, like broken handcuffs. She is silent as a corpse's breath. Waiting with ease….

Finally—far off from the rest of the ominous group—a young girl sits on a lone crate and nervously hugs herself. Her short, short blonde hair hugs a shivering skull that is sheen all over with frost and cold steam. Every breath.. … ..every jittery movement from the blue-clad femme causes mist to rise up into the air, as if a human-shaped statuette of dry ice. She glances over with nervous blue eyes and waits.. ….waits… …waits….

For the 'caretaker' of the boat to speak.

Whurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr—A long, robot arm inserts the haphazard red crystal into a huge metal vessel emitting clouds of steam and exhaust. HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssss. A red glow pulses as the crystal enters the cauldron. Sparks shower down from random, robotic joints.

The frozen girl flinches.

The red-braided boy does nothing.

The young man of ivory chuckles insanely…

Hisssssssssssssssss… … … The red glow dims, settles, and bleeds a low crimson into the shadows of the bobbing cabin. This gives way to the silhouette of a hobbling hump of a man who waddles his way into the midst of the scientific scene.

"Mmmmmm… ….pure, natural Xenothium. The strongest, densest sample of the compound in the world. Eheheheheh.. …'perfection'. That's what it is, you children have no idea. You think you're here for a simple week of 'Juvenile Villain Preschool'—BAH! I only have you here because I need you. And your boss—ahem---your new boss is needing a new A-plus student. And I happen to be in the league of fetching that very same rogue for her…. …"

"For a walking, frozen catfish…," the ivory boy's eyes flare as his smiling teeth show. "… ..you sure are full of hot air…"

"Mmmm… …Watch your tongue, young Acyd. Your instructors gave me permission to fry your internal organs the first second I felt inclined to reward you for your jocularity—Eheheheheh—"

"Buffoon," the girl with green hair growls, rolling her eyes.

"Eh?" Professor Chang looks over, his red goggles glinting in the sparse light from a nearby porthole.

"He's 'Miist'," the veiny girl points with a red-orange fingernail. "I'm 'Acyd'."

"Pffft… …Whatever the blasted difference may be! You are all like mouseketeers with superpowers and rehab trouble. Eheheheheh… …gotta write that one down.. …"

"You do that, old man," the ivory boy happily sneers with a grin. "I'll read it in your diary after I've killed you in your sleep."

"Save the double-crossing for after you do your duties and I do mine… …. …eheheheh.. …is that clear, boy?"

'Miist' merely chuckles, scratches at the squiggly black tattoos under his ivory eyes, and continues playing with puffs of white hot smoke at the ends of his fingers.

"Professor Chang," the short amber-skinned teen with red braids speaks up. His voice is betrayingly strong. Fierce. Forceful. He glares emerald eyes with every sentence and phrase: "When our trainer Booker told us that this mission was going to deal with stolen samples of Xenothium, everyone of us at H.I.V.E. assumed we would be combating the Titans. Tell me….tell us… …" the young man leans forward. "How long do we have to wait for the inevitable?"

"Not that awfully long, young master—'Flaar', is it?"

"… .. …"

"Eheheheheh…but of course," Chang half-bows with steam emanating from his bodily equipment. "Mmm—but the Titanssss…. …No, they are not the 'inevitable'."

"But they intercepted the criminals who procured you that sample from the museum.. …," the young lady in metallic-gray drones. Calmly concerned. "Knowing the detective skills of the Titans in defeating Monsieur Mallah and the brain, there's every bit of concern that they will be upon us in a matter of hours."

"No one is more aware of the loss suffered by the Brain than I, young lady," Chang momentarily frowns. He points a gloved finger. "The only reason I'm dealing with you pathetic delinquents of disorderrrrrr.. …. …issss that I owe your instructor Booker for freeing me from that awful prison. Believe me…." He grits his uneven teeth. "… …once you share a confined cell with the 'Ding Dong Daddy'.. … ..you start to contemplate desperate things… …."

"But Polaar is onto something," Acyd gestures towards the lady in flowing gray. "If we're going to defeat the Titans, then we had better go on the offensive!" She punches her fist and a splurt of acid exits her fingertips and burns at the rusted floor. "Before they so much as get near your precious Xenothium, we should fight straight to their heart and melt them from the inside out!"

"Talkiiiiiiing my language…," Miist coos…

"Children… … ..heheheheheh.. ….children… … …," Chang paces leisurely around the red-pulsating cauldron where the Xenothium crystal is being 'cooked'. "When Booker's boss sent you here after ensuring my liberation.. .. ..he had no intention of you destroying the Titans. But rather to hold them back…"

The blonde girl of ice merely trembles….

'Flaar', the redhead squints his eyes. "You mean Booker expects us to sacrifice ourselves on your pathetic account?"

"Not sacrifice.. …," Chang holds a finger up. "Delay. Like I said.. …" And as Chang begins to grin, the device where the crystal is located starts to glow brighter and brighter with crimson fury. "… …I have a prodigal son to summon. And once he comes to the call of our mutually envied 'treasure'… … …you'll all have a new Inductee for your precious Neo H.I.V.E. … …. …An Inductee who will help you wipe out those pesky Titans one day or another, whether or not he desires to. Eheheheheheh…."

The five 'meta-students' watch with mixed curiosity and apprehension as the chuckling mad scientist's project starts to glow and strobe and glow and strobe and—

VROMMMMMM!.!.!

The boat rocks ever furiously….

-T-T-T-T-T-T-

"… …. …." The thug walks down Main Street. "… …." The thug glances left.

Citizens on the sidewalk blink. Staring in the morning light. Speechless.

"… …. …" The bruised thug glances silently to his right.

School children. Joggers with their dogs. Hot dog vendors and taxi cab drivers. All staring.

"… … …" The thug looks straight forward. And then the thug frowns. The thug grits his teeth and fights back a pulsating redness to his temples. The thug is pissed because he's wearing a collar. "This is humiliating as SHIT."

"Hey!" Bard frowns. He yanks back on the length of chain in his hand and kicks the thug square in the butt. "Keep walking and watch the gutter language in front of public… …." Bard mutters. "… …shithead."

I smile nervously. I gulp, and fight back a furious sweatdrop as I glance all around us. We've been following Robin's orders---in that we've been taking the captured thug in chains to the police HQ… …. …literally. For the last hour and a half, we've been walking the helpless crook down into the center of Jump City with Bard's last-minute invention of restraint: a length of metal leash and a titanium collar. The poor dog himself stumbles a few feet ahead of us in open sight of everyone as we traverse Main Street towards our destination. His hands and feet are also chained together, and he can't resist the occasional curse word of anger and embarrassment slipping through his lips like a case of the runs in reverse.

"You ever heard of fair and balanced punishment or whatshit---" WHAP! "AUGH!"

"Reckon you heard what I said, punk?.?.?" Bard cackles. "Don't be a smarty-pants. You wanna talk about your rights to fair punishment? After breaking into a museum and nearly blowin' a hole in my 'lil buddy Noir's forehead, you're lucky I don't plum strip you and hang you upside down from a flagpole! Hah! There's ONE morning routine that'll send even the firemen jumping back into bed!"

"That's just what I always hate about you 'noble vigilantes'," the crook seethes out loud. "You think you can play God with petty criminals. Well, as soon as I'm out of prison I'm gonna—" CLONG! The thug is suddenly shoved straight into a lamppost. "AUGH! DAMMIT! WHAT THE HELL--?.!"

"SHHH---Better watch where you walk, buckaroo," Bard suppresses a smirk and adjusts his hat in one hand. "And look both ways too!"

"Nnnnghh…grrghhh…mmmgnnnghh…why I oughta—"

"And don't be pullin' none of that Cool Hand Luke bunk on us neither! We're good rookies—learning from Robin's example! So don't think we won't be rough on ya if you try something funny!"

"Heh…How could you two POSSIBLY hurt my ego more.. …?"

Bard grins. "Glad to hear we're on the same page…"

I cough…cough…

The cowboy glances at me over his shoulder as he leads the thug along.

I hand-sign furiously.

"You kiddin'?" Bard whispers back at me. "This jerk's getting just what he deserves!"

I bite my lip….

"Besides…," the poncho'd Titan pal of mine mutters in a less-than-happy voice. "Robin and company stole off with the T-Car, and there's no way in frozen heck I'm lettin' this guy ride side-saddle with me on MY steel horse."

I smile nervously. I hand-sign something else…

"Pffft! Of course Cyborg will let me drive the T-Car someday! You think I'm that off-kilter?"

I raise an eyebrow and smirk knowingly…

"Well nuts to you," he half-sticks his tongue out. "Besides, what you got to lay claim to? Wait till you get your permit, Noirry-boy."

I groan mentally and slump along with him like I'm in chains myself.

"When the Hell are we gonna get there?" The thug moans. "I'd rather do twenty-to-life than endure any more of this crap!"

"Speak, and you shall receive… …for once at least," Bard half bows and motions towards the entrance of.. .. … …a grandiose, marble building façade with statues of 'Justice' and 'Enforcement'.

The Jump City Police Department (JCPD).

Wow.. …. …it's bigger than I thought.

Bard whistles long and hard. "Now that's a woodshed!"

"… … …" The collar'd thug glares.

"… … …" So do I.

"…. …. …" Bard sweatdrops. "All right. I reckon that's pushin' it for one day."

"Brother, for once you're right."

"WHO ASKED YOU?" Bard frowns at the thug.

"Certainly not your gay-ass lover there!" the thug smirks and nods at me. "What's got him so quiet? His mouth sore from spending the night with you?"

I gasp… …and try to hide it.

"… … …" Bard stares. "… … .. …" Quietly, he turns to me. "Say Noir, why don't you grab us both a couple of drinks from the soda fountain across the way? I'm thirstin' like there's the whole of Arizona between my tonsils."

I nod nervously, hide my blushing, and walk away on uneven feet.

Alone with the cowboy Titan, the thug chuckles…..almost with relief. "Heh, you're cool after all, kid. After that wisecrack of mine, I could have sworn you were gonna tear my ass a new one! Heh heh heh."

"Heh heh heh…," Bard dryly chuckles with a plastic smile. He suddenly lifts his heavy leather boot. "You reckon?"

WHAP! He kick-shoves the chained crook straight into the revolving door.

"AUGH!" FW-FWUMP! "DAH!" FWAP-FWAP-fWAP! "SH-SHIT! DAMN! AUGH!" WHUD! WH-WHUD! CL-CLANK! THUDDD! "OOF!" The crook finally ragdolls his way through the spinning door and collapses on the marble floor of the Police Department's spacious, first-floor atrium.

Bard dusts off his hands, straightens his hat, and nods to the wind. "Yeah… …you 'reckon' all right." He walks reverse through the revolving door, raising his hands and smirking at the crowd. "Nothing to see here, folks! Cowboy business. Get back to your…. …'urbaning'. Much obliged."

He enters through the revolving door. And the clusters of curious people start to part ways.

"J-Just who is that, anyways?"

"A new Titan?"

"I dunno, but suddenly want to whip out my Hank Williams CD…."