"So, now what?"

Every person in that abandoned hall wondered who the hell she was, since she wasn't common to any of them in the slightest of ways. He just needed a couple of minutes of their time to reassess their situation and thread the Meta into the fabric of inevitability. The Riddler, Harley Quinn, Two Face, The Penguin and the new face by the name of the Arkham Knight acting as Scarecrow's voice and actions. They had all been sitting around a conference table when she walked in, Knight's words introducing her to the villainous group, and the first person to retaliate was Dent who had drawn out his gun and pointed it at her.

"Who the hell are you?" Two-Face asked, walking up towards her before shoving the nuzzle up her chin.

"What you feel when you die," she answered back calmly, her voice riddled with her alluring British accent before moving away from him and bowing her head in respect. "Well, hello...I am Alias. I also have a part in this theatrical story, but mine is worth the Bat."

"And what makes yer think that?" The Penguin questioned her, a noticeable frown on his face, and Alias turned her head towards him. She didn't think he'd be so vertically challenged in person.

"There are some things you wouldn't understand, Cobblepot. Arkham was a bit too quiet to my liking as you were all personally recruited by Scarecrow to aid the advancement of Operation Saviour in Gotham―"

"I like you," a high-pitched voice cut her off, and the Meta glanced at the blonde with the two-tone attire and cocked a brow. "The way you carry yourself...you're even easy on the eyes."

"Thank you Quinn...but like everyone else in this room, I have a part to play. Oh, and Dent?" The half-scarred man snarled as he glanced in her direction, unexpecting a spin-kick to the face and let out a pained grunt as he was thrown off his feet. Alias slowly dropped her leg, fixed her hair and walked up to the fallen man. "This will be the last time you point a gun at me. You hold your status as a Gotham thug, I'm sure, but that doesn't mean you test the life of someone trained to kill you." The Arkham Knight crossed his arms, that was an impressive kick. The Riddler suppressed a laugh of mockery as Harley shared a surprised pout, pressing her hands on the table to catch a glimpse of Dent recovering on the floor.

Dent brought a hand to his face and felt blood ooze out of his nose, his hasty breaths becoming louder as rage fuelled his next actions and words; he pulled himself off the floor and balled her silk cardigan in one shaking fist. "You fucking bitch―!"

"Go on," she grinned. "Flip your coin. Let's see who gets to kill who." A hand curled around Dent's wrist and Alias glared up at the Knight, the armoured man throwing off the hand that gripped her cardigan and she let out an exasperated sigh as she flattened out the new creases. "Now that I've got almost everyone's attention, it seems like Scarecrow has assigned for each of you to wreck an aspect of chaos to either plunge this city into havoc or distract Batman from Operation Saviour." She crossed her arms as she swayed to the end on the table, stopping beside the Knight. "Considering everything is going to plan, having someone like me will greatly boost morale amongst the militia. Everyone here has some sort of vendetta on the Bat, I have a target on him."

"Oh look," Nigma spoke up his time with his usually cheery voice. "Another walking disappointment. What would make us think you can kill the Bat?"

"Yeah!" Harley exclaimed. "You look too pretty to kill someone like Bats. You think you can take him?" Alias moved her weight to her other foot as she stared at the frames by the table, and casually flicked her hand in the air as if she was throwing something. And throw something she did indeed. Harley let out a squeal as a broadsword made out of violet ice was stabbed through the table, Nigma's brows rising in surprise as he witnessed her actual abilities.

"He thinks he's immortal. He forgets that underneath all that black, is a man dressed up as a bat. If I can kill you, I can kill him. It's simple, really. Besides I'm being paid. No money, no mark."

"Yer one scary woman, yer know that," Penguin mumbled, his mouth occupied by the half-burnt cigar and Alias smiled.

"Oh, I can assure you Cobblepot, this was nothing. If we're on the same page, then it's best we do everything to make Halloween come alive." She spun on her toes and began to walk to the doors she entered from and stopped just before she reached for the handle. "And Knight? I've been assigned to your unit. Crane's orders."


Alias walked through the streets of Miagani with Rex a mere couple of steps in front of her, already taken care of three targets in the space of 15 minutes. Five minutes to hear them ramble on about a life the two didn't care about, have them try to defend themselves and miss the opportunity to say their last words. The last target found out about the assassinations and took cover in Gotham Casino, which wasn't very smart in Alias's opinion. But, no, she was astonished by Rex's skill as a trained fighter and as a Meta. It shocked her when he brought out some sort of energy sword that burned blue and sliced through matter at will; if she had to guess, the energy that emanated from it was capable of destroying the bonds between molecules. It shocked her when he moved through space and time. It shocked her even more when he pulled her through a wall, a solid surface, when she wasn't in cover. Even now, she still couldn't get over that last one. Phasing through a wall felt incredibly...dense. There wasn't any other way to describe it. Just, dense.

Rex booted open the doors and had his sword by his side, cautiously stepping into the casino with the Meta Mercenary gazing up at the silver chandeliers. "Pretty," she lowly commented as she admired the interior design of the establishment, red carpets that stretched up the staircase, black-leather loveseats that were placed in the reception's perimeter and paintings that varied in canvas size. As they walked past the reception booth and up the stairs to the casino, Alias's senses heightened as she picked up more than one heat signature. She felt several, but one was different than the others and on the rooftop of the building. "Rex, wait."

Rex stopped and peered off his shoulder, her hand squeezing his bicep in reassurance before letting go, and watched as she moved in front of him. She examined the sea of casino slots, tables and bars and brought the hazy mist to her eyes. "Our target isn't alone but neither are we. You deal with these guys and I'll entertain whoever's trying to steal our mark. Good luck." After exchanging pats on each other's back, she caught a glimpse of Rex pooling electricity into his hands just as she launched herself to the ceiling windows with a glacier, and used an arm to shield her face from the fragments. She landed softly yet the figure heard her and turned to examine her, and she widened her eyes as the mist faded. "The bird. I wondered why you were so calm."

He smirked and reached for his escrima sticks, "I would've noticed someone like you in a city like this."

"Well, I can't say the same for you." She shrugged lightly and put one foot back, Nightwing's eyes looking down to see what she was doing. "I did." She fired into a sprint straight towards him and just as he prepared to block her, a leap in the air and a flipping axe-kick was enough for Nightwing to realise she wasn't a regular thug. He dodged by cover-rolling backwards and blocked two more strikes before deciding to grab her attacking arm. She hissed as the submission hold was tightened, her arm folded against an escrima stick and she was pressured on to one knee. "Not too bad. I was sloppy, my mistake."

"What are you doing here?" He asked her sternly, and she chuckled under her breath.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I kinda would."

"If you're going to interrogate me, could you move it along?"

Nightwing ignored her, "Who do you work for?"

"Not Dent, after he put a gun to my chin I don't think I'll work for him any time soon. Penguin sounds inviting, although having two British people together becomes less threatening. Nigma would probably annoy me with 'riddle me this' all the time. Now Crane…" she laughed. "Crane's the man these days. Then again, you get what you paid for." She left her afterimage as an ice sculpture and Nightwing was too slow to move his hands away, Alias a couple steps away from him and dusting her clothes off. "Nobody's ever got me in a lock like that."

"You're a Meta," he scoffed. "Of course you are."

"Not obvious for you? I don't like using my powers to win my fights because I could. But I do love challenges." She waved a hand and the ice around his limbs shattered on command, the vigilante regaining his composure and twirling his escrima sticks. The sounds of gunfire and yelling brought her attention to the ceiling window and she crossed her arms. "Not sure what you'll accomplish, but I have a target. If you want to be able to walk away, I suggest you stand down."

"Target? You're a suspect, so...yeah, I don't have it in me to do that." She shrugged as she flicked her wrists and ice gauntlets materialised gracefully, surrounded in silvery winds.

"Suit yourself. Violence is my second option if flattery doesn't work."

"That was flattery? You gotta try better than that."

"Is that right? You should've just broken my arm." The mist appeared and she flash-stepped towards him, landing a left cross to the centre of his chest and lunging forward for another. He backflipped from the swing, threw a smoke pellet and used his grappling hook. Although the smoke didn't obscure her vision in the slightest she was oblivious to whatever shot out at her but, when she felt it clamp onto her half-hoodie and yank her towards Nightwing, she figured out her situation. Just before she was knocked back by a clothesline, Alias met his outstretched arm instead and performed a one-arm shoulder throw. He grunted as his back smacked onto the floor but didn't stay too long as she punched down where his head was, but realised it was a setup for her aerial combo; just as he was getting up she stepped onto his knee and chest but the last hit was avoided by rolling out of the way.

They were at it for a while, shots connecting and throws initiated, and the thoughts that were running through his mind was how; how was she matching him, how was she countering his moves? It was unbelievable that a Meta who manipulated ice could be so good at hand-to-hand combat, so there must've been something more about her that he's slightly afraid to know.

Nightwing bared his teeth and managed to deflect her fourth strike and went to flip over her, but never thought her body would move faster than his. In his mid-flip she swivelled her body and punched his midsection with enough force she created a shockwave, and he was thrown across the entire rooftop. She waited for him to stand and when she did she sighed as she sauntered towards him, slapping away his batarangs and blurred behind him. Alias knew he wouldn't be fast enough for this as she knocked the back of his knee and forced him onto the floor, coiled an arm around his neck and the other manipulated his limb. "Wrist lock," she commented casually. "Highly effective as a pain compliance technique. Do you understand the situation you're in, right?"

Then she let out an exhausted exhale. "Wow. You should be really proud of yourself, nobody's ever worn me out before. An actual workout." She exhaled again and tightened the lock on his wrist, which made Nightwing flinch in response. "Aren't you lucky to have a guardian angel. If it wasn't for him, you would've been dead the second I saw you."

"...him?" The vigilante grunted and Alias nodded in return.

"Him. Now I hear you're flexible. How flexible are you?" She slowly twisted the joint and felt his muscle clench against her but stopped just before she popped it out of place. Her gauntlet abruptly hummed and she released the hold on Nightwing to step away from him. "Rex ex machina," she shrugged as her ice weapons shattered by will. "You're not my main priority nor my mark. I know I'll be seeing you later, was it Richard Grayson?"

Nightwing widened his eyes, "Who the...hell are you?"

"Why don't you ask Batman," her brow cocked as she jogged and leapt into the shattered glass ceiling, the gauntlet beeping faster this time. She reached down for the assault of an already-dead henchman, checked the mag and, as the mist was still up, looked around for Rex's heat signature. Upstairs, he was upstairs. Combing her hair back, she made her way to the first level and darted through the sea of tables and almost instantly ducked when a brute wielding a machine gun slammed into the large room she was in.

"He didn't work alone," someone spoke from behind the brute and out flooded several more henchmen, one with some sort of detection gear on his back. They were probably expecting Batman or the bird whose wrist she almost snapped. She smiled, that's a shame. She didn't have time to take them out silently one by one so moved swiftly among them until she was in a good position, and stood up from her cover.

It was quick, too quick. Before the brute could turn towards her she had frozen him entirely and gripped the rifle properly to waste four more henchmen. The other two began registering what was happening before their eyes and stayed together, covering each other's back and shouting warnings at one another. She found it cute that they could actually survive this and broke cover again, and in the sudden intensity of the moment one henchmen raised their iron sights and fired.

Alias smirked and vanished mid-step before him, and he felt the pressure of his ally on his back as he staggered forward; she had materialised in front of his comrade, used him as a step-up stool and flipped over the pair of them. Only right before she landed she pushed them back with her feet and seamlessly cover-rolled backwards to her feet, the pair of henchmen skewered by the ice sculpture she created, and she threw the gun she was wielding on the floor. "Never a fan," she spoke to herself as she moved towards the back room, gesturing her hand so the sculpture collapsed. She fixed her clothes and booted the door open, her body moving on its own as she dived forward from multiple rounds and rebounded off the desk, grabbed the target's head and used her ongoing momentum to slam his face onto the desk.

"And that," she pointed down at him. "Was for not coming out and letting my comrade kill you. Unfortunately for you, I'll have to do it instead." In both hands shimmered an ice sword and she kicked him over so that he was now on his back and stabbed his palms in place. He let out a blood-curdling scream as red streamed out in pools but Alias didn't react, letting go of the hilts and rushed over to a barely conscious Rex who smiled weakly up at her.

"I don't see any marks," she said in a surprised tone, her hazy eyes darting around examining his body. She hummed in confusion when his hand cupped her face, and she held it without hesitation. "Don't worry, we'll get out of here." He shook his head and pointed behind her, and that was when she felt another heat signature emanating behind her. She stood up and spun on her heels, only to be bombarded with several psychic blasts that knocked her off-balance. Nothing but pain, nothing but white. "What the…"

"I can already smell your fear, frozen maiden…" the voice called out to her and her eyes dotted around the room. "It's almost addicting. Tell me, Alias: what are you afraid of?" Mixed emotions that weren't her own flooded her body in violent waves and she stepped back, the reality before her melting away into nothingness to reveal a woman of her height standing metres before her. When she took a closer inspection, she realised it was her but something was wrong. Dark bruises decorated her ankles and wrists and cuts in the form of tally scores spanned her arms and legs. What was she looking at? A past she couldn't even remember? "Oh, yourself. I never would've known. But then again, I'm not surprised. Go on, have a taste of your own demon."

The woman lifted her head and Alias gasped at the deep red stitches that kept her eyes shut. What the hell was she witnessing? Surely that didn't happen to her, surely...they didn't sew her eyes shut. That would be inhumane. The Meta was frozen in her place and reacted when her counterpart threw her hands out and icy winds slammed into her body, screaming in agony as it licked against her skin with the intensity of sub-zero temperature and that of the sun. It burned her skin, peeled the clothes off her body and burnt her hair to ash. The pain, the heat, the cold, it all felt so real. So real she thought she would be trapped in this oblivion forever.

There.

She briefly shut her eyes and found them, hiding in the depths of the dark behind her lids and didn't waste another moment as the side of her fist forcefully met his face. He gagged and she panted, the weight vanishing from her shoulders, with the blade she took from one of the henchmen stabbed through the bridge of his nose and into his skull.

"Another Meta? But how did I…" She widened her eyes. "It was you, wasn't it Rex?" He stumbled into her line of sight and tapped his nose as a gesture of secrecy, a tired grin on his face. The enemy Meta's nerves had moved his hand to the knife in his face and stepped back before striking the floor hard, their target now whimpering in fear and extreme pain.

"You're a psychic? No way. That's...that's so cool. Does anybody know?" Rex shook his head several times and she smiled at this response, for it to subtly drop as the man pinned to the floor begged and pleaded for his life to end. With a sigh, Alias snapped her palm and a knife completely silenced him; it had nipped at the linen of his crotch and it took the rest of his willpower not to move. "Shout at me again, and I swear the next one won't miss. As I was saying...so why not? Telepathy is an incredible power. Oh wait, that's why you don't want to tell anybody. Does the Knight know?" He shook his head again. "You should let him know. But thank you for protecting my mind, not a big fan of mind-control."

I know.

She blinked. That was...that was her voice. That was said in her voice. But she didn't have the thought processes ready to say something like that. Her eyes peered at green orbs and he winked as he reached behind him, bringing out his energy sword.

I get to kill him. I wasn't aware that he would have a Meta as a last-resort bodyguard. I apologize for my sloppiness.

"It's okay, I'll give you this kill." She didn't turn when he brushed past her and instead flicked her hair back with both hands, nothing but crushed bones and more of the man's cries staining the air. That feeling again. That feeling of helplessness. It was festering. As much as she didn't want it to. She almost felt pity for herself.

Almost.