A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. I've got a lot of testing going on in school right now. :/
Thanks to all those who reviewed, favorited, and alerted; you guys make my day.~
Ch. 3: Puzzle Piece
"You're sure the signal came from here?"
"Yeah, you find anything?"
"A moldy can. I think it used to contain beans, but the wrapper's kind of flaked off, so it's hard to tell." Nightwing could almost see Oracle rolling her eyes in response.
"Try to focus."
"I am" he replied, gazing around at the abandoned construction site. He absently dropped the moldy can as he walked toward the center of the site.
"Oh, and Nightwing?"
"Hm?"
"Try not to step on this communicator."
"Hardy har har. I'll do my best."
The communication was disconnected, allowing Nightwing to put his full attention to the task at hand. He doubted he would find any evidence of Red Robin here, however. If this enemy could disable his communicator and hack into Oracle's system,- something they had yet to find any proof of –then he was probably capable of rerouting the origin of a signal. Nightwing grimaced, not appreciating being sent on a wild goose chase.
He looked for the smallest detail, something that didn't belong. If Red Robin had been here, then he probably would've left some clue. Of course, it was also possible that the enemy had been here with just the phone and not Tim.
Nightwing sighed and rubbed his face. He needed sleep and this whole thing was too complicated. He walked up and laid a hand down on a rusted steel pillar. Maybe it was just the usual bat paranoia getting the best of him. Maybe he was the only one with something to worry about. Maybe the disappearances of the others had nothing to do with the attack on his apartment. Maybe the only one connected to it was Tim, since the enemy had used his phone.
His communicator elicited a high-pitched beep, the same one it had earlier. Nightwing let out a curse and once again yanked it from his ear. He was about to crush it, when a possibility came to his mind.
The last time his communicator had made that noise was when that piece of paper had been shot at him. Maybe…
He leaped behind a beam to avoid a blast that was suddenly shot at him. He was under attack. He peeked around the beam to try to get an idea of what he was up against. The first thing his eyes landed on was the spot where he had previously been standing. It was now occupied by a scorched, two feet deep hole. He then looked up to see if he could get a glimpse of his opponent.
He actually wasn't all that surprised by what he saw.
A robot hovered in the air. Its shape reminded Nightwing of an egg and it had an extension on either side that he guessed were supposed to act like arms. In the middle was a circle that was slightly darker than the rest of it, probably where the blast came from. Near the top of it were two more, smaller circles, most likely the eyes.
"No use hiding. I am aware of your presence" the voice was similar to what he had heard over the phone, but not quite the same.
"Who made you?" Nightwing called. Might as well give it a shot. Silence followed his question. Figured he couldn't get stuck with a chatty robot.
"Prepare to join your colleagues."
Nightwing's eyes widened as the circle in the center of the robot began to light up. He leaped out of the way just before the blast hit the beam he had been hiding behind. He used his hands to absorb the impact of his dive. He hit the ground and transitioned into a somersault to minimize the impact further. He instantly came to a halt in a kneeling position, eyes narrowed and ready for action.
There was a loud creak and he watched as the skeleton of a building began to tilt. A second later, the structure collapsed, causing Nightwing to once again leap out of the way. A cloud of dirt and dust consumed the area. He looked around, searching to see if the robot was still there, but the cloud of dust was too thick. He'd have to wait for it to settle.
Something hard hit him in the back with a thunk and he fell forward. Mid-fall, he turned around, throwing a wingding(?) at the robot. There was a clang as it bounced right off the hulking piece of metal.
Well, crap.
The dust cleared just in time for him to dodge yet another blast from the robot. So, obviously, this method wasn't going to work out. What would then?
The robot charged at him, abruptly changing tactics. Nightwing quickly took out his escrima sticks and crossed them. The robot hit them head on, forcing him back a few feet. His body stayed stiff and rigid as he fought against the strength of the robot. He looked into its "eyes."
"What do you want?" he hissed, frustrated. Surprisingly, the robot answered him.
"Elimination of sub-group 'Batman.'"
A light below caught Nightwing's eye and he knew the robot was loading its blaster. He quickly moved his escrima sticks, causing the robot to fall forward. He put a hand on the robot and pushed off, leaping over it. Not a second later, the blast came, erupting from the robot. It was larger than the previous blasts, probably due to the fact that the robot had taken the time to charge it. The ground shook and another dust cloud formed. Nightwing tumbled to the ground. He shot to his feet and took a brief moment to inspect himself. He concluded that, besides a few bumps and bruises, all he really needed was a shower and a decent night's sleep. He looked up to where he had last seen the robot. As the dust cleared, the overgrown toaster finally came into view. It was where he left it. Sparks crackled from it. Obviously, the blast had taken a toll on the robot as well. Since it had fallen forward, its blast had hit the ground.
Nightwing decided to use the robot's current condition to his advantage. He ran forward, before leaping into the air. He slammed the ends of his escrima sticks down on the robot. His sticks hit the sutures between the metal plates that made up the outside of the robot. They penetrated, smashing down on gears and wires. A moment later, the robot shut down and fell to the ground. Nightwing took his escrima sticks out and place them back in the holders on his back. He then got off the robot and let out a breath. Ok, so, now that that was taken care of, he could take the robot to the cave, hop in the shower, and take a quick nap. Then-
Beep… beep… beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beepbeepbeepbeeeeeeeep.
His eyes widened. Uh oh…
He jumped out of the way just before the robot exploded. He laid on the ground face-down, hands over his head, as a few pieces of shrapnel and a moldy can went flying. Once it was safe, he stood up and walked over to where the robot once was. He kicked the rubble and sighed.
Figures. So much for trying to get some information out of the thing.
The pieces of the robot that were left were charred and black, obviously useless when it came to getting data out of them. He sighed and picked up a piece anyway. Maybe if he could find out what it was made of, it could lead him to the maker.
He took out his grappling hook and shot it out.
The cave was surprisingly quiet when there was no typing or training going on. Dick yawned, having just woken up from a nap about five minutes ago. His hair held only a slight dampness from the shower he had taken half an hour before that.
"Do you need anything, Master Dick?" Alfred questioned as he walked up to the young man. Dick shook his head after a moment.
"No thanks, Al. is the computer done with the analysis?"
"Yes, sir," he said as both he and Dick walked up to the screen, "It appears to have no exact match, but it does fit the plans for an experimental metal Wayne Tech is planning."
Dick raised his eyebrows. "Really?"
The old butler just nodded in response as he folded Dick's freshly cleaned costume.
Dick stared up at the large computer screen, its contents confirming what Alfred had said. So, another technology of Bruce's had been corrupted? His brows furrowed and he ran a hand through his hair before turning to Alfred.
"It doesn't make any sense. The batcomputer says they've barely begun the process, and I'm pretty sure Bruce would know if his own experiment was already finished."
Alfred gave the slightest of shrugs before turning to Dick. "Perhaps, sir, you should ask whoever happens to be in charge of the experiment."
Dick nodded. His eyes fell on the suit. "Who would get better answers? Dick Grayson or Nightwing?" He pondered the thought.
"I believe both would receive the same answers," Alfred replied, before grabbing the folded costume and handing it to Dick, "but Nightwing is more capable of asking the right questions."
Dick smiled gratefully and took the costume, before walking off to change.
A/N:... It's called a wingding, right? Anywho, I'm probably going to stop handwriting this soon. Handwriting it in my notebook makes it seem longer than it actually is. :/ Anyways, that's it for now. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed. ^^ Again, any advice is welcomed. Review please! ;D