Clang!

Clang!


Clang!

One metal foot after another, Mister Freeze marches up to a final stretch of metal doors marked 'Compartment F'. He comes to an iron stop. His red eyes narrow as he studies the lengths and breadths of the doorframe.

"… … …."

He brings his other hand to his ice pistol. He turns a knob on it, intensifying the frequency. Clik-k-k-k-k. He shifts. He steps back. He aims the weapon and…

Pauses.

"… … ….?" He glances over his shoulder. A start—And he suddenly spins with a metal forearm raised in time to block a shot of lead. CLANG!

Hull curses, aiming a smoking shotgun barrel. Pulsade poses besides him with wrists strobing a blinding brightness.

"Bugger all.. … …He's like a walking tank!"

"Yeah, with it's air conditioner on the fritz."

"Okay, Michael. No more words from you for the rest of the night."

"Feh."

"You two.. …. …Former H.I.V.E. students… …," Mister Freeze's pale brow furrows. A beat. He cranes his domed head. He frowns and glares fixedly at them. "Amy. You've done something with her, haven't you?"

"What bloody difference should it make to you?" Pulsade sneers. "She was our mate long before you ever coddled her into becoming your 'pet', Fries!"

Freeze hisses electronically: "I nursed her back to health. She is like a daughter to me…"

"Tsk tsk…," Hull smirks down the barrel of his shotgun. "Snowman's got a warm spot!"

Cl-Clak! The Gothamite aims the ice gun directly at him. "You would do well to shed any attachment you may have to warmth…..NOW." He pulls at the trigger.

Hull and Pulsade flinch—

Sw-Sw-Sw-Sw-SWISH-CLANK!

"AUGH!" Mister Freeze stumbles back as his pistol is knocked clean from his metallic grip. He tilts his domed head up and glares.

Through a broken ceiling panel, Robin slithers down, lands in a crouch, and whips out two more birdarangs. These, however, blink with threatening explosive charges. "This is the farthest the march of winter goes, Fries."

"The Batman's protégé….," Mister Freeze slurs. "I would have expected no less."

Robin stands up, glaring. With both birdarangs trained on Freeze, he glances over at the two rogues. "Where's Fraust?"

"Simon has her in good hands," Pulsade says.

Hull adds: "Well, relatively speaking—" Pulsade smacks him. "Ow!"

"… … …," Robin takes a deep breath and bravely drones: "I'm going to have to ask you three to back away from the door."

Mister Freeze's fists tighten.

"Bullocks!" Pulsade hisses. "We came this far to do no less a good deed than you, Bugger Wonder! These might seem like regular hostages to you. But to the likes of Michael, Simon, Amy and I—they're brothers and sisters! This is bloody personal!"

"I can't risk letting any terrorist get their hands on—"

"Terrorist?" Hull cackles with a psychotic grin. "Dude, before you start cashing checks that your ass can't catch—Give your short-term memory a little once-over and remind yourself just how kindly we worked alongside you and your nerdy pals up till now! Wouldn't you call that genuine, all-American boy scout treatment? Or did your brain and your prostate switch places overnight?"

"I did the unorthodox thing of enlisting the help of you thugs for one reason alone," Robin points. "I knew the sight of your infiltration would set off the impulsive alarms in this 'Booker's' psychotic brain, and he'd forego good strategy by leaving a vulnerable hole wide enough for us to march through. And that's exactly what we did."

Pulsade's eyemask narrows. ".. ….you mean to say you were using us?"

"Whatever the case….," Robin raises the birdarangs higher. "I need you to back off. Now."

"Why of all the bloody—"

Ch-Chtung! Hull trains his shotgun on the Boy Wonder. "Flick your right arm just once, bird boy, and I'll shoot off your one and only love-partner for good!"

"Make your move—"

"Children.. …. …lest we forget.. …."

Robin, Hull, and Pulsade look the Gothamite's way.

Mr. Freeze calmly—coldly—gestures towards the metal doors. "As thunderous as this whole affair is, there are less fortunate souls to assist beyond this barrier," his knowing eyes squint in a crimson glint. "Is life so ironic that I serve as the only benevolent individual amidst this standoff?"

"… …. ….," Pulsade bites her lip.

Hull exhales and fingers the hilt of his shotgun.

Robin clenches his fingers around his birdarangs and sighs: "Not on my damned watch.. …" He nods at the rogues.

Pulsade nods back.

Mr. Freeze swivels about…

And all four face the doors as one.

Birdarangs, light beams, ice gun, and shotgun aimed at ready….

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

Flaar pants… …

And pants… …

And pants… ….

Below him, bruised and singed in a few places, lies Starfire in a heap of mangled metal and debris. A green glow sizzles in a circle and smoke rises from her extremities. She moans and stirs slightly before falling unconscious.

Flaar clenches his teeth and forms two fists. He shudders slightly, for a reason he cannot ascertain. He forces his eyes shut and tightens his fingers till his palms bleed. A beat…two. And he exhales in a hiccup, then looks weakly down at the wounded, wilted Tamaranian girl.

"…. …… ….." Starfire is still. Barely breathing.

Flaar builds up a wave of heat. He bites back whatever hesitancy there may be, raises his hands, and hotly aims down at her—

ZZZZZZZTT-TTT!.!.!.!

POW!

"OOOF!" Flaar is struck square-center by a bolt of electricity. He sails back ten feet and slams hard into the wall of the utility room. WHANG! He slumps down to his knees, wincing.

"S-Star!" Static runs in, panting. He kneels down by her side and cradles her upper body across his knees, checking her vital signs. "J-Jesus! Hang in there.. …."

"Nnngh…," Flaar winces and slowly gets up. "You again. I'm going to—"

"Shut your stinkin' face, ya brat!" Static howls.

Flaar actually jumps back.

Static sneers, holding Starfire close as he glares at her. "You have no god damn clue about anything in the world, do you? Did they blind you to that, punk? You're so full of all this 'pain and rage' emo-crud that you can blast the Hell out of somebody who didn't mean you nothin' but good and think it's all hunky-dorey, well you're one shitty specimen, pal! Didn't it get through your thick skull that all she wanted to do was help you?"

"… .. ….," Flaar blinks.

"And don't you look all confused and bushy-eyed, you piece of filth!" Static glances over Starfire's bruises while muttering. "She went on a quest.. … …She all but turned her back on what her teammates were doing…. …She enlisted me and the help of a criminal... ...She all-but-sacrificed her good-standing as a HERO to see you rescued from this ugly-ass dung-heap and how do you repay her?"

Flaar shudders…

Static slowly lays Starfire down. He stands up menacingly and faces Flaar from across the room. "Take a good look at her. You're both the same blood, dumbass! The same skin. The same hair. The same eyes and powers and all that crap! You were given all the signs of good will and what did you do? Not what a man would do, I tell ya that! Just a dog.. … a trained animal who dives in balls-first at the ring of a bell!"

ZZZZT!

Static charges his fists with a circulating fury. "Starfire may have wanted to treat you like a young man. But that's not what I'm gonna do to you, fart-stain! You're nothing but a lost, self-loathing little kid! And one that's due for one Hell of a spanking! So help me God….—"

"She… ….Sh-She only wanted to know my name… …"

Static pauses, squinting through his goggles.

Flaar is murmuring. He is looking at his own hands. At the emerald plasma rolling off his fingers. ".. …. ..I kept pummeling her… .. …and all sh-she wanted from me was a n-name.. … …."

Static waits. Static listens.

Flaar's lips quiver. A tear rolls out from his eye.. ..but immediately evaporates from the heat. "… … …N-Nova'm… … …" He looks up, shivering. "… .. …'N-Nova'm' was what.. … …people once called me.. … …kind people… … …" He gulps a lump in his throat and looks at the ruins and debris around him. ".. ….G-God.. …what am I d-doing here… .. …?"

Static takes a deep breath. Lips pursing, he takes a step forward and raises a hand to speak—

ZAAAAAA-AAAAA-AAAAAAAAP! A crimson, Xenothium ray blasts into him.

"AAAAAAAAUGH!" Static convulses, shudders, and falls down to the floor in a smoking heap. "Nnnngh…. …" THWUMP!

Flaar gasps. He spins around and looks.

Professor Chang—bruised and battered—stands limply in a caved-in portion of the ceiling, flanked by Mammoth and a few conscious guards in tattered battle-armor.

"Flaar. Booker's precious 'castle' here is finished. Mammoth's taking us back to HQ. If you know what's good for you… ….heheh…you'll join us, no?"

"… .. ….. ….," Flaar bites his lip. He looks over his shoulder. He glances at Static.. … …then longingly at Starfire. "…. … …."

"Flaar?"

The alien boy shudders. He shrugs his shoulders, sighs, and spins round. "I'm coming.. …" He runs and joins Mammoth's side. Professor Chang and the guards escort them away and towards the surface.

Leaving the two unconscious Titans behind…

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

Thwish-Thwish-Thwish—THWISH!

CRACK!

SHATTTTTER!

The window flies into a myriad of shards.

Gripping Myrkblade, I vault through the frame and into the torture room.

In the bright, blinding light of the place…

I run across the metal floor…

And up to the wall against which the petite figure of Red X is suspended.

"Nnnngh.. …." The pale, skull-like mask twitches and reels. The black body and gloves shudder.

I wince at the sight.

Torture.. …

Never fun.. … …

No matter the thief or saint… …

I reach up towards him and try to 'yank' him down.

But he's held taut by the wires.

Speaking of which—

Zzzzt!

OW!

I gasp and leap back, wincing at the sensation. I stick a finger into my mouth, wave it around, and look up at the hanging 'crucifix' of a rogue.

"Mmmf.. …wh-whoever you are.. … …try being a little less stupid… …"

I fight the urge to frown.

CHIIIING!

I point Myrkblade towards him.

He somehow manages to twitch. "Oboy."

I hold a breath, cover my sword with smoke, and pump the spectral powers of balance through my blade as I swing high---SLASH!—low—SL-SLASH!—and along the sides. SLASSSSH!

A few jolts. A tiny spark or two.

And….

CH-CHTTTNG!

Red X is murkily cut loose from the wires. He falls freely—

Th-Thap! I catch him in half-an-open arm. I shudder a bit under his weight, but manage to safely carry him away a decent distance from his spot of misery.

I lay him on the ground. He coughs and moans, stirring all over.

I pant… …nervous.

My God.

He must have been in that horrid spot for days!

Who knows what they've been doing to him—Oh Lord, he's gotta be d-dying!

I… …I-I have to check on his vital signs n'stuff.

I try to feel for a pulse. I lean my ear to his chest. I squeeze his wrist.

Nothing.

Not even a pulse.

That damned suit of Robin's….!

I bite my lip.

Only one thing to do… …

I reach a pair of hands to the edge of his mask—

"Don't even think about it," he drones. "Not as if you can."

I pause for a moment.

"… …. …"

I frown.

No.

No, I have to do this.. …

I reach the edges of his mask.

And I pull.

The white 'skull' plate on the youngster's head won't budge.

So I concentrate.

I slither a current of murk out from my fingers and under the grooves in his mask.

Click!

There we go.. …

And now… …

I remove Red X's mask… …

… ….and I do a double-take.

My black eyes twitch, the widen at the sight….

The sight of nothing.

There is nobody—No face—Nothing under the mask. Just a hollow suit with empty space inside where the 'skull' plate was.

My jaw drops.

What the.. ….?

A beat.

"…. … ….Told you not to look."

I gasp wildly at the electronic voice—

WHAP! A red-blurring fist slams across my cheek.

I roll wildly across the floor and to a painful stop amidst glass shards.

The Red X suit pops the mask back on and hops up to its feet with as ever the agile grace I've seen from the rogue.

CHIIING! Red X produces a tentacle of red from its forearm and salutes me with the other wrist. "Seen too much, kid. But now you see it---"

FWOOOOSH!

He swings away on the red cord.

"—Now you don't!"

I cough, wheeze…and sit up. Eyes tearing from the blow to the cheek as I rub my face and look towards where he.. …it… …the frickin' Red X suit has just escaped.

What in the world is going on there?

I saw nobody!

Was that.. …. ….Was that… .. …?

"Snkkkt-Hahahaha….Kaff-KAFF-Ha ha ha ha!"

I freeze. For that is not Red X's droning voice.

"Makes so much sense now…. …A hollow shell… … ..A subconscious subroutine of artificial intelligence mimicry—Snkkkt-Hahahahaha-Kaff-KAFF!"

It takes me a few seconds, but I hobble up to my feet, catch my breath, and blur up through the window and back into the laboratory.. …

Where the old man in the metal mech-brace is stirring and laughing with blood trailing from his lips. With every laugh he.. .. …'deteriorates'. And the faux, young exterior once granting him an aesthetic visage melts away into wrinkles as he coughs and wheezes the agonized evening away.

"He had nothing.. …N-NOTHING….snkkkt—Kaff-Kaff! Jusssst—snkkkt—an empty shell hungering for more and more Xenothium. A shadow of its former user. No body.. …no flesh.. …no—snkkkt—KAFF.. …No inclination towards the Experiment whatsoever! Nnngh….damn you, Chang. You cheated usssss—snkkkt-KAFF! KAFF! You cheated me… …"

I look down at him. I look around for traces of Red X. In the meantime, my bruises are subconsciously frothing with flickering puffs of smoke and obsidian.

And instantly-the aging psychopath sees it. His gray eyes bulge as he reels madly on the floor. "SNkkkt-No…N-N-No… ..It… ..It can't be that simple! Snkkkt-Hahahahaha-Kaff-KAFF! The Titan.. …the kid.. …the bl-blasted Black Eyes….snkkkt-Heheheh.. …Ohhhhhh I was…I was….I was diggg-ggggiiiing-snnnkkt—in the wrong SPOT! Heheheh-KAFF! HACKKKT-snkkkt…." The wrinkles swim over his face like a whirlpool as the metal brace begins to short circuit and the life is drained from the torturer's flesh. "… …such a waste… …the wrong children.. ….Oh! Oh my Headmistressss-snkkt-Kaff! KAFF!… …I've failed you…snkkt….you and the Obsidian Trinity. The wrong childrennn… ….such a waste… ..s-such a waste of blood.. …. ..w-waste of blood… …..w-waste… … …" And he exhales as his eyes roll back for the last time.

I stare at him.

Breathless.

I look towards the wires where Red X--.. …where the suit was situated.

"… … …"

I then look towards the extinguished life of a villain before me.

"… .. …."

And for some reason I look at my own hand, and its puffs of murk flickering out of each finger like a subconscious fountain.

Waste of blood.

I form a lump in my throat.

Obsidian Trinity.

I look at him once more.

Experiment… …. ….

I shudder all over. I hug myself. I want to hear Bard's voice. I want to see Fei-yan's smile. I want to turn off the light and turn over in the covers and die for a few hours.

Anything…

Anything but this haunting.. … ..haunting feeling.

What's going on here?.?.?

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

CRKKK-KKKK-KKKKK!

The door to Compartment F turns to frozen ice.

Then—

SHATTTTER!

Robin and Pulsade leap through, ready for combat.

Mister Freeze and Hull take up the rear.

But all too soon…

Silence ensues.

Eight.. ….Ten.. …a dozen….fifteen…..two dozen students of both young and younger ages huddle all across the claustrophobic living quarters assigned to them. Some are in raggedy garb. Others are in junior-grade henchperson armor. A good number cling to each other. The rest stand alone and in trepidation at the sight of the four intruders.

A beat.

Robin slowly steps in. He looks at them all. He takes a breath: "Nobody be afraid. We're here to rescue you."

A girl in yellow armor gulps, takes a look at the bunch, and mutters: "All of y-you?"

Robin turns and looks at the two rogues and Gothamite, then back at the girl. He nods with a soft smile. "Yes. All of us."

Breaths of relief.

A few sobs.

Muttering and murmuring voices.

Pulsade walks through and takes a silent headcount, using a bright finger as a laser pointer.

Hull leans on his shotgun, eyeing the entire room suspiciously.

Robin marches around, being approached by little ones with wide eyes of desperate hope and trust. He pats the shoulders of a few of them and strafes across the room, getting a good look at the crowd. "… …a few trips will do it. But we can get them all out under guard from the rest of the H.I.V.E. officials if we work together. Now, let's devise a plan—"

"This isn't all of them," Mister Freeze drones.

Hull looks up.

Pulsade hangs her head.

Robin looks curiously at Freeze…then at Pulsade. "… …Pulsade?"

"…. …," the British Blonde glances sadly up. She looks hesitantly towards a black, metal door towards the side of the compartment.

Robin turns to look at it. He glances at a random kid. He points at the door and asks: "What's behind that?"

The kid merely bites his lip and steps back. A few seconds later, tears well up in his eyes. He clenches his palms over his face.

A teenager limps up and shudders: "Mr. Titan….. …Don't bother…."

Robin cocks his head to the side and looks at her strangely. "What do you mean?"

"It's.. …. ..It's t-too late for them."

"… … …," Robin turns to the door—

But Mr. Freeze is already there. Bleep! SCHWISSSH! He marches in.

Robin rushes to the door. Hull and Pulsade slowly follow.

Soon, all four walk out into a wide, dark room with obsidian metal paneling and a green, bubbling glow reflecting off their pallid faces as three sets of eyes/eyemasks grow wide.

Pulsade sharply gasps, a hand over her lips.

"Mother of God.. … …," Hull grotesquely shudders.

"… …. …. …." Freeze says nothing. He merely stands still and witnesses.

Robin walks forward. Gazing. Left. Right. At the whole spectacle. The Titan Leader leans against a metal railing, suddenly weak in the knees.

And for a good minute, nobody—neither hero nor villain—says a word.

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

POP!

A metal hatch in the middle of the forest flies open.

Red X kicks the trap door open.

He leaps out.

He blurs in a red streak and leaps/teleports from branch to branch till he perches on one trunk in the middle of the moonlit canopy.

He pauses.

He flexes a black, gloved hand before his hollow mask.

"…. …. … …. …"

He glances towards the stars.

"Red… …. …Flame… …. …Black… … …Smoke… …."

A beat.

"… …heheh.. …a little funky, but I think I'm starting to catch on."

He flexes his limbs.

"Thank you very much, Booker. This is about more than just Xenothium. I know that now."

Crickets.

Wind and chill.

"… … ..but I must learn more."

SWOOOOSH!

He leaps down and blurs across the countryside in a scarlet streak.