07:07 AM

Nightwing seemed more subdued than before. But more than that, something had obviously happened between him and Superboy down there, something they had failed to resolve. Miss Martian and Kid Flash could both feel it, like tension in the air, but somehow different. Nightwing avoided looking at any of them, and Superboy appeared to have withdrawn into himself.

Though sunrise had come, it was masked by a heavy curtain of gray storm clouds. The team had made barely any progress. Nightwing had given no directions, leaving Miss Martian to sweep the city below in a grid pattern, on the off chance that she might by some miracle spot Robin. She wanted to ask Nightwing where he expected them to go from here, but some instinct bade her keep silent.

Kid Flash, as impulsive as he was, somehow sensed that now was the time to be quiet. That no questions would be answered now, he would have to wait, suffering his curiosity and impatience without open comment.

At long last, it was Superboy who looked up, staring out the view screen for several moments before turning abruptly to Nightwing. His expression frightened Miss Martian, and for a second she actually thought he might attempt to attack Nightwing. But instead, he merely sat calmly and made a simple, but very clear demand of their leader.

"Let's beat him to wherever he's going. The only way we'll catch him is if we're properly prepared," the words were spoken crisply, with an authority that shocked both Miss Martian and Kid Flash.

They gaped openly at Superboy. He was given to making brazen demands, and time had not tempered his aggression, though experience had made him somewhat wiser. But it had been a long time since he had taken that tone with Nightwing. Not so long as they both must have thought, for he had spoken that way to Nightwing privately on more than one occasion

Turning to Nightwing, they received another shock when he dipped his head mildly and delivered a mental instruction to Miss Martian, giving her speed and direction, and the indication that there would be more information to follow. Miss Martian uneasily complied. Somehow, in the space of half an hour, the balance of power within the team had shifted drastically, as it had not done in over five years.

"Tell me what you know," Superboy again addressed Nightwing "is this as far as it goes, or can we expect more changes to come?,"

"You can expect it to get a lot worse," Nightwing replied.

"Worse?. How could it possibly get worse?. I could barely hold him, even before the Kryptonite hit me," Superboy said.

"Pretty soon, you won't be able to hold onto him at all,"

Nightwing opened the holographic display on his computer and began to compose something. He worked for several minutes in silence, pausing now and then to tell Miss Martian to alter her course. When he was finished, he enlarged the image he had drawn.

"I don't know how accurate this is," he admitted "but it's what I've seen in my head,"

"That doesn't look good," Kid Flash commented after a moment of awed, or horrified, silence.

"Is that what it looks like?," Superboy asked.

"The past always returns," Nightwing said.

"Very zen," Kid Flash told him "but usually they don't mean it returns... like this,"

"But... why turn him into that?. What possible reason could their be for it?," Miss Martian asked.

"Resurrect one of the most intelligent, most powerful creatures in Earth history?. Why not?,"

"But not exactly as it was," Superboy observed.

"No. Even this animal was no match for a Kryptonian, even if it had Robin's knowledge and experience," Nightwing said "people always feel a certain need to improve on what already exists and fix what was never broken,"

"And revive things which should stay dead," Kid Flash muttered.

"Yeah, that too," Nightwing agreed.

"So you think this is what he's becoming?," Superboy asked.

"Or his perception of it right now," Nightwing said.

A black thought had come to Nightwing. It was quite possible that what he had depicted was far less than what would actually be. For now his mind was aflame with alternate images, shadows and shapes, chaotic at best, but all were bringers of violence. Fang of the wolf, claw of the cat, skin of the snake, disease of the rat and wings of the bat. They were beginning to mingle with the image he had first drawn, yet formed no coherent shape. But one thing was certain, when he was finished changing, Robin would not longer be recognizable as human.

The only thing he knew for sure was how the final change would take place. It wouldn't be a gradual shift, as Robin's behavior had been. The beast he had become would shed its skin like a reptile, becoming outwardly as monstrous as he had already become inside.

"What do you think of our chances at taking him alive?," Superboy asked.

"At the moment, extremely low," Nightwing answered honestly "if we're to do anything other than kill him, something will have to change drastically,"

He half closed his eyes at saying this, a cold dread seeping through his veins that he was unaccustomed to feeling. It was a bitter pill for him to swallow, far bitterer than that of his inability to remain objective and on top of the situation.

"Is there no way we can trap him?," Miss Martian asked.

Nightwing and Superboy exchanged a significant look. Though they had related their first adventure together before, only those who had been present truly understood. In the midst of danger, Nightwing, then Robin, had not been afraid he would be unable to escape, but that he would not be able to do it in the time Batman would want him to.

"This is Robin we're talking about," Superboy answered for Nightwing "if he doesn't want to be caught, he won't be caught. Either he lets us catch him, or we kill him. Those are the options,"

Nightwing didn't quite nod, but close enough for the other two to realize he agreed with that assessment. Those trained by Batman were ninjas, master illusionists and skilled escape artists, plus the modern tech twist of being expert hackers. There was nothing they could not get into, no place they could not escape from, or at least close enough to accomplish a set goal. And this was a former Batman sidekick on something much stronger than steroids.

By nine o'clock, the team had left the stormy cities near Gotham far behind. They might have traveled faster had they actually known their destination, but instead they adopted a slow, lurching pace as Nightwing gave directions at apparent random, seeming less sure of himself each time.

He sat in his seat quietly, hunched over like an old man, a distant and foreboding look clouding his young features. His demeanor suggested more than a lack of confidence, but a certain inability to even deal with the reality that faced him. It was more than unsettling to see him this way. Nightwing, who had from day one faced all challenges with a mix of supreme, almost arrogant, confidence and eagerness that suggested a taste for danger and thrill for the unexpected, had never been one to shrink from the world before him.

Even if he believed the world he'd once known was gone forever, that all whom he cared about were dead, Nightwing had still shown defiance in the face of defeat. His skill meant he was likely to survive for some time to come, but the warrior blood that ran in his veins would not permit him to leave the life behind. There was no doubt in anyone's mind but that someday this game would kill him. Perhaps not now, or even ten years from now, but someday.

And yet he was now withdrawn, as if this one thing were simply too much for him. The death of the previous Robin had not affected him so, nor even the death of his best friend, the original Kid Flash. He had reacted adversely, but there was always the promise that he would recover.

Below the ship stretched miles of sand dunes, and a harsh wind was whipping them into a frenzy of dusty tornadoes. Nightwing indicated that they were close, but looking out the windows showed only more sand. Shouldn't there be some kind of structure somewhere in this wasteland?. Why send Robin all the way out here?.

As they slid over a large dune, a small bunker at last came into view and they let out a collective breath. A building made sense. Although none of them felt particularly eager to fight in this sandstorm. They would be rendered practically blind, even with goggles on. This was exactly the sort of turf Nightwing and Robin thrived on. Uneven footing, blinded by sand and deafened by wind. They would have the advantage. They looked to Nightwing, who stared vacantly out at the roaring sand. It seemed unlikely that he would be of any use in the coming battle.

"Let's get down there and do some investigating," Superboy said. "Miss Martian, stay with the ship and watch our backs. Radios probably won't work in this mess, so we'll use the telepathic mind link. Kid Flash, Nightwing, come with me,"

At his words, Nightwing roused himself. He blinked and looked around as if noticing the ship and his friends for the first time. Shaking himself, Nightwing arose and followed Superboy out of the ship.

Down on the ground, the weather was worse than it had looked from above. Stinging sand whipped around Superboy's face, and the wind blew. Though he was strong enough to stand against it, the wind also shifted the sand underfoot, and he nearly fell as the universe suddenly seemed to rearrange itself. In spite of his superior vision, he could barely make out the form of Kid Flash huddling near him, half flattened by the fierce storm.

Kid Flash was fast, not strong, and the wind buffeted against his small frame unmercifully. His one advantage was his goggles, which kept the sand out of his eyes, but did little to clear his vision. He tried leaning into the wind, but in the end the only thing that kept him upright and moving forward was keeping the powerful Superboy between himself and the blasting hurricane level gale.

Superboy could not even see Nightwing, and called out mentally to check his position. It turned out that Nightwing was just to his right, about five feet away. Nightwing drifted over at his call until he was less than a foot away. Superboy could just barely make him out.

When he asked Miss Martian, it became uncomfortably apparent that she could not see them at all beneath the whirling sandstorm. Superboy thought to bring her down with them, because she was clearly of no use as a look out, but he decided it might be best to keep their flanks covered in any case.

Guided by Nightwing's compass, they located the door of the bunker and moved gratefully into the meager shelter provided by its recessed door. Kid Flash was coughing and Superboy wondered if he would really be able to make it back to where they'd left the ship, especially considering the probable fight they would be having beforehand. They hadn't dared put the ship any closer, even cloaked it could be discovered.

At Superboy's signal, Nightwing crouched down beside the panel next to the door and set to work on it. With skilled fingers, he quickly disabled the locking mechanism and the door slide open with a heavy groan that made them all cringe.

Peering inside, they saw nothing but a darkened hallway. There was no light in the building and the air that blew out was warm and smelled musty, as if it had been abandoned for years.

Nightwing, sounding heavy hearted, gave voice to the realization that had struck him half an hour ago, but that he had not wanted to believe.

"We're too late, he's already gone,"

When Nightwing said that Robin was gone, there was more than one meaning to his words. It was obvious that the place was dark and empty of life. Less obvious was a dark lump leaning against one wall of the hallway. Upon closer inspection, Superboy and Kid Flash came to the same horrifying realization that Nightwing had when he first laid eyes on it.

It was Robin's suit, as well as a disgustingly damp pile of skin and hair. Now, a few feet into the tunnel-like hall, Superboy's eyes were adjusting to the darkness. Up ahead there was another mass on the floor, this one larger than the first. Uneasily, he crossed over to it.

It was a human body, or at least what was left of it. Flesh ripped to literal shredded pieces, bones crushed by some tremendously powerful blow, the mangled corpse lay in a puddle of its own bodily fluid, eyes and gaping mouth glazed and twisted first with utter terror, and then death inside the utterly smashed skull and heavily lacerated skin, cut down to the shattered bone.

Superboy was no stranger to violence, or even to death, but even in his world there were generally rules. A torn throat, a bullet to the head, death being the end. Something had killed this person, then continued pounding and tearing at the body until there was nothing left but a shapeless lump on the floor sitting in a pool of blood.

He turned away abruptly and caught Kid Flash by the shoulder before the younger boy could go see what had turned his stomach so. Nightwing did not approach the body, yet seemed fully aware of what it was, and how it had come to be killed.

"Those were claw marks, teeth marks," Superboy murmured aloud, barely believing it "no weapon killed him. Something, something living did that. Crushed the life out of him with its bare hands,"

Nightwing did not look surprised, but nodded silently with a sort of saddened resignation.

"Everyone in the building is dead," Nightwing told him "all of them,"

"I thought you said someone was controlling him?," Superboy snapped, feeling helpless, which made him angry "so why is that man dead?,"

"There is no prison which can hold him now," came the quiet reply "not even one of the mind,"

"So where will he go?," Superboy asked, still finding it hard to believe that Robin had beat them here, and that he had turned into some kind of beast, and that he'd actually killed someone.

"Where do you think?," Nightwing asked, his tone harsh and his expression cold "a predator seeks a hunting ground. Robin, or what's left of him, already has one,"

"He's going to Gotham," Kid Flash breathed in disbelief.

"We were practically there!," Superboy shouted, furious at no one in particular because there was no one he could truly blame, not even Nightwing or himself "we could have been there, waiting for him. We'll never find him in Gotham, at least not before the media gets wind of it. And that won't happen until he kills someone else,"

"Someone innocent," Kid Flash added nervously.

"We have no choice," Superboy said fiercely, though inside he was more wounded than angry "we will find him, and then we will kill him,"