Chapter Eight
The alarm went off in the tower. Dick sighed, putting down the sword that he had been halfway through making. It was going to be only a single molecule thick, but denser than any metal in existence so that it wouldn't break. That way, it could easily cut through just about any defense. He was oing to give it to Damian, whose physical abilities were not yet great enough that he could equal most of the rest of the team. Dick was waiting until he was sure that Damian wouldn't become too much of a loose cannon.
The same could be said of Jason. Dick didn't fully trust him yet. He was willing to give Jason a chance. But he wasn't ready to fully let down his guard. He looked through his mind to see who the villain was, and saw that it was Brother Blood. Dick cursed under his breath. Blood was sure to have a few more tricks up his sleeve. Immediately, Robin evolved a new power… Making himself immune to telepathy and telekinesis.
"Titans! Go!" Nightwing shouted, putting on his own mask, and hurrying out, jumping on his motorcycle.
"It's Brother Blood!" Nightwing said through the telepathic link that he had created via the communicators.
"As long as we stay within 5,000 feet of each other, we'll all be immune to his telepathy and telekinesis." Nightwing said.
"I gave myself immunity, and the telepathic communicators will extend that to others within the link within a certain distance. I think that it could go as far as 7,500 feet, but I'm certain of it within 5,000 feet. That's almost a mile, so there's no need to get further away than that. Okay?"
The other Titans noted their agreement as they closed in from different directions on Brother Blood. Nightwing could sense Cyborg's personal investment in this. He singled out Cyborg's signal.
"Cyborg… I know you have a personal stake in this, and rightly so. He stole your technology. But we need you not to lose your temper with him. Stay calm and you have the upper hand. He's counting on you getting angry. Don't give him the satisfaction. Don't give him that advantage."
I hear ya, Nightwing. Cyborg replied. After a while, they reached Blood, who was robbing a bank. He had been held up by people who inadvertently distracted him and the tellers.
There were crying children and scared adults. Nightwing stopped the others, telling them to hide themselves in various spots around the bank. He was going to go in alone. Although Cyborg protested at first, Nightwing said that he might be able to disable Blood's teleportation ability. As he said that, he created a bio-electrical field around himself that would disable teleportation while he was within it.
"Blood! Drop the bags and put your hands up!" Nightwing shouted. Brother Blood turned around, smirking confidently.
"Ah, Robin… So good to see you again… Or, I would say that if you hadn't put me in jail when last we met!" He said, his smile fading, replaced by controlled rage.
"Well, what can I say? You were controlling people's minds, trying to steal Cyborg's secrets. You had to be stopped." Nightwing said with a smirk. Brother Blood sneered at his flippant attitude.
"I will not take lip from a 14 year old upstart! You will respect your elders!" He shouted, trying to teleport to attack Nightwing from behind, but simply flickering and staying in the same place. His eyes widened.
"What have you done?" Blood demanded. "Created some sonic disruption machine to prevent teleportation?" He asked. Regardless, he focused mentally, trying to invade Nightwing's mind. Immediately, he seemed to get in, but found nothing.
"Unfortunately, you can't invade my mind. Oh, sure, you can get in. But you won't find anything of value." Nightwing said, rushing in rapidly, and grabbing Brother Blood, tapping into his teleportation and moving them out. The one exception to his anti-teleportation was that he could still teleport himself. He teleported them onto the roof, where the rest of the Titans surrounded him. Blood merely smirked, clapping.
"I see your team… Your… Family if you will, has grown. Do you see this, Master?" He asked, seeming to get the response he was expecting, because he smirked proudly. "I've only come to send you a message. Please take a moment and listen to my Master." Blood said. Nightwing thought it was odd that Brother Blood was speaking so deferentially about anyone. Blood had never been the type to serve.
"Hello, Robin… Ah, but I see there are three generations of Robins here. Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and… Mhmhmhm… How quaint… Little Damian Wayne, the pampered son of Talia and Batman. I see that even Batman got tired of your insufferable arrogance…" Slade said. Nightwing suddenly went rigid, his shoulders going tense and his body shaking with barely suppressed rage.
"Slade! Did you plan this!?" Nightwing demanded. Slade said nothing for a minute, allowing Nightwing to draw his own conclusion.
"Yes. I… Rewarded Brother Blood with enhanced abilities in exchange for his loyalty on a temporary basis. I knew that if it came to it, I could always subdue him or simply absorb him. Still, he makes a useful if… Slightly unpredictable subordinate."
"What is it you're planning!" Nightwing demanded angrily.
"Well… Nightwing…" He said, surprising Dick with his knowledge of his new name. He had barely had that name for three days, and hadn't identified himself as such to any villains. "Where would the fun… The surprise be… If I just told you my plan? Surely you know me better than that by now?" Slade asked, his low, gravelly voice resonating through Nightwing's mind.
To Nightwing, Slade's voice smelled like a well-oiled machine. It looked like a perfectly executed orchestra piece. No matter which sense or combination of senses Robin applied to Slade's voice, it was always perfectly ordered and controlled. Perhaps this was just a result of his interactions with Slade, and his knowledge that Slade accepted no less than the best from his subordinates or from himself.
"How do you know Nightwing's new name?" Damian asked, actually using Dick's new alias, despite claiming that it was "a tad pretentious".
"How indeed?" Slade asked, seeming like he was smiling through his mask.
"Oh, how are you getting on with the Titans, Miss Markov? Well? I'm so glad… You deserve no less." He said, and despite his mocking voice, his voice tasted like he meant it, to Nightwing, anyway.
"Well… I really must be going, now… Enjoy your city… While you can, that is." Slade said mysteriously, indicating somehow, perhaps telepathically, to Brother Blood that they were done. Blood seemed to use a mechanism that allowed him to bypass Nightwing's anti-teleportation field, and teleported back into the bank, took the bags of money, and escaped without a trace.
"That was weird. What do you think he meant… While we can?" Beast Boy asked. Damian sneered.
"I don't know. But knowing Slade Wilson, it can't be good." Damian growled. "He killed my grandfather out of jealousy… Grandfather chose me instead of Slade to be his successor, and Slade couldn't accept that. Mother saved me by bringing me to Father's house."
"We have to prepare for the worst. I've set up microscopic cameras all around the city. They're no bigger than a single cell, and can capture both picture and sound. They're specifically created to capture criminals in the act and alert Titan Tower to the crime. I could send them to look for Slade's hideout. I suspect he's done something similar, sent microscopic spy cameras to watch us. That's how he knows so much about us, things he couldn't possibly know.
Terra felt that it was highly possible. Between getting information on the Teen Titans and testing Nightwing, as he was so wont to do, Slade might readily tap Titans Tower. Like Slade's other goals, tapping Titans Tower might not necessarily have straightforward reasons. Terra had learned more than perhaps she cared to know about Slade in her time serving him. He was brilliant, and his ability to manipulate others and to plot was second almost to none.
"Excuse me a bit…" Nightwing said, getting up and heading out the door. He needed to collect some biomass, and he knew exactly where to go. He dropped down into the sewer, and sent out a powerful telepathic order to the rats and other vermin to report to him. He then made a seat out of the remaining biomass he had and waited. After about ten minutes, all the rats that he could sense were in front of him.
He sent out tendrils, created out of his arms and absorbed all but fifty of the rats, leaving 25 males and 25 females. Recently, Jump City had been having a problem with rats. Nightwing could tell that they weren't ordinary rats. They were giving him far more biomass than a typical rat would. He also absorbed insects and other pests in the sewer.
The rats that were still there, he infected with a biomass generation command. They would continue to produce large amounts of biomass that he could absorb at his leisure. That way, all the rats would now be biomass factories.
Last check, rats were projected to outnumber the humans in Jump City four to one. Some scientists speculated that mutagenic substances may have ended up in the sewers and fundamentally changed the rats. It's unknown if that was true, but what was known was that the rats had become a real problem that Nightwing had fixed to a degree. Furthermore, he made it so the rats grew to adulthood quicker, and were less virile in terms of reproducing.
He then reached out his tendrils into the water, making them as thin as possible and absorbed as many dead vermin in the sewer as possible. Finally, he sighed, and climbed back up out of the sewer. He already felt much better. He enhanced himself further, finding that it was easier to do now. Suddenly, he heard a voice in his head, and saw a flashing image of Slade.
Very clever, Nightwing. Came a low, gravelly voice. Nightwing looked around, and suddenly, he saw a flashing image of Slade behind him. Nightwing gasped and attacked immediately, hitting only air. After a moment, he took a deep breath, centering himself, slowing his breathing and heart rate and used his echolocation and Synesthesia to check whether his vision was accurate. When he had reassured himself that he hadn't really seen Slade, he stood and headed back to the Tower.
Very well done, Nightwing… I couldn't have done it better myself Slade said. Nightwing looked around, not seeing anyone, much less Slade.
You needn't keep looking around. I'll always be with you, Nightwing. You can't escape me. Slade said, seeming very smug.
"What have you done to me! Did Mod plant something in me when he infected me? Or did my looking through Terra's mind put it in me?"
Both likely culprits. But I leave such discoveries to you. After all, what fun is life if you aren't allowed to learn for yourself? Slade asked. Nightwing growled, shutting off his telepathic link, seeing if that would work. Suddenly, he no longer felt Slade.
He was sure that with time, Slade would be able to reestablish a mental connection. However, he evolved a new power. He made himself immune to telepathy, and evolved backlash for any who tried to establish a link without Nightwing's permission. Anyone who did would be severely electrocuted. They wouldn't die, but it would hurt, and would make them think twice before trying again. He had already made a remote telepathic link with all the people he was willing to communicate with.
They all existed in Titans Tower, and maybe in some of the other Titans' Towers. If he came across other Titans, he would grant them permission in the same way. He leapt on his motorcycle. He had been fixing it up, making it exponentially faster and making it able to defy gravity via certain biomechanical components of the cycle. He wasn't done yet, either. He planned on making the cycle even faster and giving it combat options such as pacification guns.
The guns wouldn't kill, but they would subdue opponents quickly with pulses and hypersonic waves that were above the audible sound range, but able to quickly cause immense pain and ringing in a person's head that would immediately subdue them. He had already perfected the sound waves, but he needed to make it so that it could target a particular individual. Otherwise, he'd put his entire team out for the count.
