53. One Hand Clapping

"Are you trying to tell us…," Beast Boy stammered, "…that all this time, Noir has been in secret correspondence with Slade??"

"I had Cyborg run a diagnostic on the computer network," Robin said, arms folded. "There was a level of encrypted signals recorded in our database. Signals that were sent to an outside source on multiple occasions and then responded to. The digital signature matches with past attempts Terra made to e-mail and communicate with Slade prior to her betrayal. Unless some random stranger is operating the same computer address that Slade once used—which I highly doubt—and Noir's merely sending these messages by 'accident'---"

"Do you actually have any text-based proof of what Noir was specifically sending?!" Beast Boy asked.

Cyborg slowly shook his head. He continued staring at the floor.

"All we know is that he's been sending messages out," Robin said. "These signals are going to the exact, same address as Terra's did. And Noir hasn't—even once—told us about it."

"This is ridiculous!!" Beast Boy jumped out of his seat and shook. "You've got the wrong data!! Cyborg, tell me those were Terra's old messages you were scanning and not Noir's!!"

Slowly, the android Titan looked up. His face was dead. "The date's of the files don't lie, B.B. They've been all happening over the last month. One even happened this morning."

"Well those files are wrong!!" Beast Boy snapped. His voiced echoed alone and sharp over the heads of the Titans in the Main Room. "Do a double-check! Get a second opinion…o-or something!!"

"We scanned over them five times," Robin emphasized. "We're not wrong."

Beast Boy's fists clenched. "Noir is our friend!! Our teammate!! He's not like Terra!! He's not!! He's not another---"

There was a hand on Beast Boy's shoulder.

He gasped and looked up.

Raven stood by him. And she was touching him. Her blue eyes blinked, then grew firm as she addressed everyone as a whole: "Noir is dangerous. I've felt it ever since my emotions returned to normal. After Trigon came out of his body, I caught a glimpse of the boy's mind. There is something very….very dark and bloody about his past. Something he won't tell us. Something even my demon bastard of a father shook and shivered to admit. And just like these messages—which I didn't even know of until now—Noir hasn't told us a single thing about it all. He's been hiding from us something so dark, it would have put Terra to shame when she was working for Slade. I can sense it. I sensed the danger in Terra to begin with. And my fears—our fears---came true. With Noir, it is no different. Only now I have the courage to face the fact that our very own friend—a newcomer in all irony—is a traitor in our midst."

"N-No….," Beast Boy protested, but this time it was a breathy whimper. "He….c-couldn't…."

"We all have to face it…," Cyborg grumbled. "It's happening again. We let our guard down….we got friendly with a newcomer….and we've fallen for the old fall again. Another new Titan. Another betrayal. Simple as that. Friggin' simple as that…"

Beast Boy stared at the floor. He sighed painfully. A tear formed in the corner of his eye.

Starfire looked at everyone. She was silent. Her green eyes wide with indecisive desperation.

Robin turned around and paced in front of the window overlooking the cityscape at night.

Everyone was dead. Dead quiet.

As it had once before, it took a while for the pain to sink in….and throb.

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

Soto was—in quoting Blackfire—a 'creepy, run-down warehouse'. But it had been more or less converted successfully into a bass pounding, light flashing, air heating rave club for the local youth scene of the City. In fact, it was probably the only place in all of the East Coast where high schoolers were not only safe to party on into the techno oblivion of night, but given the approval to. Soto had been the setting for numerous tours and reviews by anti-drug committees and proven statistically before all dubious parents everywhere as being a safe location for their teenage children to hang out. As expected, that innocence took a great deal of the 'fun' out of going to 'Soto' for any random group of late-night socialites. But a spontaneous battle between the Teen Titans and a trio of robot, Centauri probes many months ago completely changed that. It became a place of legend and lore, and soon all the 'phat' DJs were floating on by to sample their latest mixes for the enthusiastic, hormonal populace of the City.

It was not a place I was in the mood of being at.

Regardless, I trudged and snaked and stumbled my way through the raving bodies of sweating, euphoric teenagers all jumping as one. My black eyes squinted under their shades and I gritted my teeth at the random laser or strobe of light that stabbed down from the metal rafters beneath the ceiling. I was not a fan of laser light shows, especially when I was stuck inside an entire freakin' room of it.

Did the Messenger choose this place to purposefully annoy me?!?!

I bumped into a teenager or two.

I straightened my jacket, blushed, and hurried to the far wall of the place and furthest from the center of the hopping crowd as possible.

Some wildly remixed version of a Chemical Brothers track thundered out of the plethora of speakers overhead. Everything was flashing lights and chaos. And I hadn't the first clue what the Messenger looked like or how he was dressed. Heck, it wasn't until just a few minutes ago that I found out over the phone what sex he was. So what was I to look for?? It's one thing trying to find a needle in a haystack. It's even worse to try and find an invisible needle inside a haystack constantly jumping, shifting, and morphing to a relentless, techno beat.

I shuffled over towards a wooden crate. Actually, a pile of wooden crates. The whole 'warehouse' look had been preserved….I guess.

I leaned against the boxes, folded my arms, and stared out at the raving mass through my shades. My heart beat steadily…hard.

Where was he??

The throbbing of the bass through the floor shook up my legs and numbed me.

I sighed while waiting for something or someone I didn't know.

……and my mind drifted to the thought of my friends.

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

"I remember when we first confronted Terra after her personal revelation as being Slade's apprentice….," Starfire spoke gently into the air of the Main Room, "…in the middle of combat, she said that I was 'always easy to fool'. And I was so shocked that those words….would come out of her mouth in such a manner. My heart was ripped apart from the inside out. And what is worse, I did not feel betrayed. I felt guilty. I felt like I only had myself to blame for arriving at such a point of pain and hurt. Yes, I had trusted Terra. I had trusted her and loved her with all my heart. And for doing so, I had hurt myself. Deeply. Painfully."

A beat.

Half of the other Titans sighed.

The other half was painfully quiet.

Starfire went on: "When Noir joined us…well…I must admit it, I was fearful. I was so very fearful. I felt that he would do the same that Terra did. But the longer he persisted in being around the Tower….a-and the longer I communed with his presence, I saw only innocence. Or at least what I perceived to be innocence. He never lifted a finger of malice towards any of us. He never acted suspicious. He was just nice, considerate, and……….quiet….."

Silence.

Starfire sighed, her green eyes thinning into sad ovals. "Noir has been….so very nice….so very gentle…..so very friendly…..j-just like Terra."

Beast Boy bit his lip.

Starfire looked up. "Friends…..please tell me….if this fate is true…to what extent goes the level of my naiveté? Am I truly so…easy to full? Like Terra said? Have I treated Noir all this time with unfair benevolence? Have we been treating him unnecessarily kindly??"

"I-I just can't believe it, dude….," Beast Boy shuddered. "Tell me how y'all thought it up. At least do us that favor!"

Cyborg looked at Raven and Robin too.

"I thought it through right before asking Cyborg to scan the computer," Robin said. He pointed at his fingers as he spoke, "Number One. In the time that we've had Noir join our ranks, countless of dramatic events have taken place. Number Two, Noir was a pivotal factor in all of those events. Number three---"

"Wait, what do you mean he was a pivotal factor or whatnot?!" Beast Boy asked, eyes doing loopty-loops.

"Quite simple," Robin said. "Noir was the one who found Control Freak's base for us before doing the criminal in. Noir single-handedly defeated Jinx and retrieved the Khaza Jewell from her during the battle with Killer Moth's swarm and H.I.V.E. at Westhaven. It was Noir who suddenly, magically 'convinced' Robert Glover of the Titans' good intentions while three of us were away, entangled with Overload. When Cyborg's Uncle turned out to be controlled by Anderson, all of us were captured while Noir alone was our sole salvation. Then there was that Hellish week when Viper went on his rampage. Remember how much you, Cyborg, Speedy and I tried tracking the criminal down?! We were unsuccessful until Noir was thrown into the mix at the desalination plant!! Then Noir is the first to outwit Blackfire when she had already trapped the rest of us in suspended animation as a revenge upon her sister. And when Raven's emotions flew into us from Mumbo Jumbo's camera, Trigon just happened to take a liking to Noir. If you ask me, I'd tell you that in every major event, battle, skirmish, adventure we have had…Noir's presence—in some fashion or another—directly determined the outcome of the situation. True, we all brought our enemies to their knees through teamwork. But Noir as always the silver bullet. He was always the wildcard. And fate seemed to hinge on that one wildcard…our mysterious nooby friend. The 'friendly' Titan who never talks and never makes a complaint. But—as it turns out—he's been making correspondence with the devil right behind our very backs."

Everyone looked to the floor. Except Raven. She stared off into space. She always stared off into space. Even back when Terra…..---

"While Viper was out and about…," Robin said, "…we discovered Schauer's message. A message about a conspiracy dealing with an 'Experiment' and a 'Balance of Morals' and the seemingly biological whims of fate and destiny. I think there's something deep going on here, and Slade is playing a part in it. He's playing in some far-out chess game that none of us know we're a part of. His purpose in this game is to change our future….our karma…to his own will, I'm willing to gander. And he has two major pieces that he's moving across this dangerous board. The first is Dagger, the person of name only who is so ambiguous that people on the street who speak of him either get wasted on Dragonflare or disappear altogether. And the second…I'm sadly convinced…is Noir. Slade has tried every angle possible to steal what is precious among us and shove it right back into our face. First….it w-was me. Then he chose to rip our spirit apart with Terra—and to an extent, he succeeded. Now…..now Slade has acquired a third apprentice. And if indeed Noir is that third apprentice….well….even Slade should know that we're not going to fall for that bloody tactic again."

"Then what do we do?" Raven asked. "Obvious things never go by Slade either."

"Right," Robin nodded. "This is far too simple. We've tracked down Noir faster—and relatively sooner—than we were fated to do with Terra. Even if Noir is a traitor…there's more to it. There's more to what Slade's after and what he's trying to do. He never teamed up with a figurehead such as 'Dagger' before when Terra was his apprentice. There's got to be something about his scheme this time. He can't be so dull and repetitive to once again let things boil over and come full circle."

"How do we break the cycle??" Cyborg shrugged. "I mean…w-we can confront Noir with the evidence we've found right away. Make him 'fess up."

"Yes!" Starfire nodded. "And perhaps acquire some answers from Noir concerning his actions as well!"

Robin shook his head. "No. I've got a better idea."

"What could that possibly be?" Beast Boy moaned.

"Slade thinks he can use his third apprentice against us….fine….let's let him," Robin said. He pounded his fist and added with gritted teeth. "But if there's one thing about Noir that hasn't changed, it's that he's our wildcard and ours alone. And if need be, we're going to use him back against Slade."

Raven blinked. "You don't want us to tell Noir of our suspicion…..do you?"

Robin shook his head. "We'll lead Noir on….just like he has lead us on."

"Aw man," Cyborg shook his head. "We can't do that to him!"

"Why not…," Beast Boy muttered. He was frowning at the empty side of the room as he played listlessly with a piece of lint on the couch. "If he and Terra fooled us….we can certainly fool at least one of them back."

Cyborg raised a finger to say something……but didn't.

Starfire hugged herself. "This will be……m-most difficult."

Robin nodded. "I know. We must try and treat Noir like we always have. We must not let him suspect what we've learned. And what we know."

"And exactly what do we plan to do then?" Raven inquired.

"We will bring Noir along in our dealings with Slade," Robin said. "I'll 'brief' all of you—and him—tomorrow like I had originally planned. We need to scour the City for signs of possible explosive-settings and other suspicious, Slade-related activities. I'm going to take the threat he made to us after the fall of the Sakura Scraper seriously."

"And what about Noir?" Cyborg asked.

"He'll be our barometer…," Robin said. "We must keep our eyes pealed. We must never lose sight of Noir. Not once. He won't be the smoking gun of our endeavors this time. For if he so much as tries to be—I have a feeling fate will magically work on his side. And, in turn, Slade will benefit. For things are coming full circle. We may have discovered Noir out, but it was at the last second. Slade was right. The end is coming. The end to all of these haphazard events with all of their wild, dramatic endings and smoking guns. But what Slade doesn't know is that the end is coming to his damn charade with his new apprentice. The smoking gun will smoke no more. For as soon as we spot Noir tipping the pendulum of betrayal over the Cliffside, we will cut…him…off…."

Starfire gasped. "C-Cut??"

Robin sighed, his eyemask lowered. "We will turn Noir in, Star."

"Oh….," she exhaled.

Silence.

"Is everyone in agreement?" Robin asked. It was something he hardly ever asked his teammates. At least so bluntly.

Raven was the first to look up and utter: "Yes."

"Yeah…," Beast Boy.

"Indeed," Starfire.

Cyborg looked up. He frowned. "It's unanimous……."

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

I rubbed my tightly shut eyes.

I put my shades back on and blinked the flashing world back into existence.

The rave house continued to shake and bounce. The bass thundered throughout Soto's foundation. An Oakenfold song reverberated against the walls and bodies.

And I was still alone.

I groaned and tilted my head back against the stack of crates. There was no point in staying if a person I had never seen before was not going to show.

I shifted in my lean against the crate. I sighed.

For some reason….I really didn't want to go back to the Tower….

"Um….e-excuse me, sir??"

I blinked. I tilted my head down.

A meek, toothpick of a girl with dark hair looked at me. Her hands were clutched together and holding a piece of paper. She had a nametag. It read 'Emily'.

A worker of Soto's….

"I-Is your name, Noir?" she asked.

I slowly nodded.

"I was told to give this to you…," she handed me the note.

I regarded it curiously. I hesitantly took it and bowed my head.

"You're welcome," she simpered. She walked away…blushing furiously.

I raised an eyebrow.

The girl was gone.

I shook my head, unfolded the paper, and eagerly read it.

"Not where there're so many people, silly!!! Up here! On the roof!!"

-the Messenger

I did a double-take.

I slowly tilted around and looked straight up at the ceiling.

One of the long stretches of skylight showed a starry sky high above.

There was a lone shadow set against the stars.

A dark 'shadow hand' rose up and waved at me from above the glass skylight.

I took a deep breath.

My appointment……

I slowly looked around to see if anyone was watching, then inconspicuously made my way across the deafening dance hall and towards a stairwell in the corner.

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

The top stairwell door to the Soto Warehouse rooftop creaked open.

A gust of wind flew at my face and kicked at my long black hair as I stared out across the gravel.

A lone, shadowed figure stood above the skylight. He was looking down casually at the rave scene below.

I took a breath. I closed the door behind me and gently walked in the figure's direction.

When I was barely two yards away from him….he finally spoke.

He said: "Answer me this, Noir."

I stopped in my tracks. I squinted.

His shadowed side was still to me. He asked: "What is the sound of one hand clapping?"

"………….," I blinked. I cocked my head to the side.

"What??" his voice uttered. Still as youthful and light as on the phone. "Is that one too tough? To be honest, all koans are. Hell, I don't know if they can even be answered." A beat. He slowly shook his head. "Man….it's awful."

"?????" I gestured curiously.

He shot a hand out and pointed down through the skylight. "They remixed Kraftwerk!! Nobody remixes Kraftwerk and makes some nazi-goose-step-of-a-dance-track out of them!! Kraftwerk is Kraftwerk, man!! Pffft…freakin' philistines of post-industrial rice crispies crap, I swear to God!"

My face looked pained. I bit my lip.

"Ah well…enough of that," he shook his head, smiled brilliantly, and turned to face me. And in turning, his expression met the full shines of the rave's lights from down below us. "How're you doing?"

I squinted through my shades.

He was not much younger than me….or not much older. I couldn't tell which. He was shorter, though. He was very short, in fact. Well, he wasn't stout. He was more 'small' than anything. Petite. Too scrawny to play Hockey and yet too lean to be a jockey. He was Asian…with soft brown, almond eyes under a crown of spiked black hair. The tips of his hairs were highlighted a bright, neon green. And that green matched his sweat jacket. The color of grass…only clean and synthetic. He had his hands buried in a pouch at the base of his sweatjacket, and stretching out under his torso were legs clad in a stone-gray pants that had reflective green bands running down the length of the sides. He looked like a veteran raver somehow in my eyes, beyond the acknowledgement of what he had just spoken to me. Peaking out from the edge of his pouch—around his right arm—was a bulky, black watch of metal. Around his neck hung a necklace with the Yen and the Yang.

There was something so soft and casual about the way he stood…it looked more like he was floating in place. Like a ghost…a very friendly ghost.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips.

"Expecting a girl??" he smirked with an eyebrow raised. "Sorry, not in this lifetime, buddy."

I shook my head. I gestured something in sign language in some half attempt to see if he understood.

Whether or not he did, he didn't let on. Instead he said:

"Pleasure meeting with you, Noir," he nodded from two yards off. "It would be even more pleasurable if things weren't culminating in the way I sense them doing so. Ya know…when in Rome, do as the Romans do….except forget the orgies. It's been a long time since I've seen Trojan man ride around and that could be positively dangerous."

My eyes twitched.

"You still haven't answered my question."

I snapped out of it. I tilted my head to the side and mouthed: 'What???'

"What. Is. The. Sound. Of. One. Hand. Clapping????"

I gestured like mad.

"I know I said there's probably no way to answer something like that….," the Messenger said. He paced around me and waved a finger while talking. "But still…that doesn't mean I don't expect you to try and answer that, my good swordsman. Go on. Give it a shot!"

I sighed. I frowned.

I raised a hand and flimsily flung it around. There was no sound. I rolled my black eyes and shrugged emphatically as if to convey: 'What the hell do you want from me?!'

"Okay….now you're not even trying…," he smirked as he paced around me. My neck turned to follow him. "Granted, human beings cannot naturally comprehend what it means to clap with only one hand instead of two. Why…it defies explination! It bends the mind!! It frustrates us more than a Barbara Streisand marathon and a fridge empty of all Doctor Pepper to drown out the doldrums! And yet…we still ask each other impossible questions like that." He spun to the side, leaned on a radio antenna, and smiled at me. "Why?"

I stared at him.

He shrugged, grinning wide. "Why??"

I looked off into space.

He pointed. "We ask stupid questions like that….questions that could not possibly be answered….because we have faith in there being a higher Truth. A higher Absolute. Something transient and indefinable. Something so far beyond the limits of our reason…we're at a loss to explain it. And still, it exists. Tell me this, Noir, if you can…….do you believe in Something like that?"

I stared at him. On the spot. I slowly….shook my head 'no'.

"Awwwww….that's too bad," he cooed. "But, I guess I can't blame you. What, with being cooped up in that silent little head of yours with nobody close enough to share all of your dark secrets with…it must be sure as Hell hard to believe in much beyond the walls of your skull."

I frowned and folded my arms.

"Touchy subject?" he smirked. "That's a good thing."

I raised an eyebrow.

He twirled about and paced alongside the flashing skylight as he spoke. "At one time, I believed in God. Heck…sometimes I still do. But I'm a lot like you in that department, Noir. I trust that which I see in my eyes and what the things I see tell my heart. Am I on the ball with that, amigo?"

I chose to nod.

"Now….I would have stayed in my dull halo of spiritual numbness for a long, long time…," he went on. "But thankfully, all Hell broke loose in my life." He swiveled about and faced me from the other side of the skylight. Rave scene lights flashed against his Oriental face. "And I found myself…..utterly, hopelessly trapped in a prison I could not escape. And no matter what the details are…what nature of the imprisonment was….there's something which I believe in deeply now. The ultimate prison was myself….and nothing more." He pointed at himself and smiled with his head leaned to the side. "I was eaten down into nothing but this. This hulk of flesh and hair gel you see standing before you. Oh, there were people beyond the 'iron bars'. I shouted and screamed at them to notice me. But everything I did or say fell on blind eyes and deaf ears. Noir, I tell you. It was hell…."

I observed him. Listening. I always listened….

"To make a long story longer….," he resumed pacing around the skylight, "…I was forced to look inward. And in looking inward, I realized that….quite frankly….there is a great deal of futility to the concept of a 'self'. Just what is existence? What is singularity in an infinite domain? What's the point of being alone? Well…quite simple…toss all that down the garbage along with your Hardees' takeout bag!" He walked up to me, took a breath, and smiled forth: "We are not ourselves, but we are selves…."

I looked at him funny.

"Bet you want to go back to the koan, huh?"

I scratched my chin.

"The word 'self' is just that, Noir. A word," he walked over and leaned one foot on the metal frame of the skylight. "It is restricted by our linguistic limitations. It doesn't change. It doesn't evolve. It just sits in its lonely little corner being 'self' for eternity…or until the next fall of the Roman Empire or Ice Age screws the world back into place again." He waved a hand and added: "But the 'self' is a piece of a lot more than just a vocabulary. It's part of a chain. And in this chain…the links are invisible."

I watched him silently.

"Imagine……you have a world," he did a circular frame with two sets of fingers. "A circle, right? Well, I know the globe is a sphere. But see it for once as a three-dimensionally cast circle. A….cut out from a cylinder."

I nodded my head, inhaled, and stared at his hands.

"Now….this is the world as we perceive it, Noir," he said. "One circle. One flat plane of cause and effect and dichotomy. But such has been proven false, hasn't it? Reality—space and time—bends." His fingers closed together and formed two fists as a 'sphere'. "Dimension is relative. It took over seven thousand years of human sperm running around and bumping heads to make Einstein born and have us realize that. Relativity is as real as reality." The Messenger grinned wide and held a sole finger up. "Who's to say that—since we spent so much time realizing how pathetically shallow our primitive concepts of dimension were in the past---the same thing isn't happening now?"

He walked towards me, gesturing with enthusiasm. "The universe…the big bang…the flexing and bending of space and time…that's all well and good. But that's no limit. They used to say the sky's the limit. Some people say the sky's the limit. You know what I say, Noir?"

I mouthed: 'What'

He grinned. "The limit is the limit, and there is no limit…."

A question mark solidified over my head.

He chuckled, spun over towards an A/C unit, and sat casually on it. "Ohhhhhhh the oddest things I've seen. The craziest things I can tell. It truly is a beautiful thing, Life. In all of its tragedies and upsets and victories and triumphs all the same. Chaos sings to me. Can't you hear it as well, Noir?"

I blinked.

"When I was freed from my imprisonment….," he went on. "I found out I could see, visit, and taste so much more than what I was born with. And yet, it was what I was born with. Call it 'satori', call it 'freakishness'. Whatever. But I found that I could cross the threshold. And beyond the threshold is the answer to what the 'self' is. And I no longer see the need for an afterlife, Noir. You know why? Because we are never truly reincarnated. Our 'other lives' are 'living' as we speak! Just not here. And not now. And yet here. And yet now."

I squinted my eyes and rubbed my temple. He was giving me a headache.

"It's so simple, it's complex," the Messenger said. He stood up and sauntered towards me, gesturing. "Take everything you know and don't know about the universe, Noir, and stack it up with everything you know and don't know about the universe…..only, infinity-fold."

I glared at him, confused. Then my black eyes widened under the shades. I mouthed something.

The Asian boy nodded. "Alternate universes….they are. We are. Or 'It Is', if you prefer."

I stared down at our feet. I exhaled sharply and pondered…..

"At first glance…the idea of multiple 'yous' and 'mes' makes life feel a bit….thin. And stale. Does it not?" the Messenger asked with a lean of his head. He smiled. "It's like a ton of people you can't even see are crowding in on your act!"

I gulped.

"But then….you realize….o-once you've seen enough….that multiple dimensions only means multiple friends," he grinned wide.

I pointed at him curiously.

"Isn't it obvious?" he cackled. "I'm the last thing you'll ever find indicative of your reality!! Pfft…where I come from, people prefer standard uniforms over the colorful spandex."

I raised an eyebrow.

"And you're also wondering why I'm so bent on being 'here', of all the infinite realities assumed to exist beyond the thresholds of our perception…."

I slowly nodded.

"I dunno," he shrugged and smirked. "You are kinda handsome, ya know."

I scowled.

"Yeah, I know," he chuckled. "I'm too ambiguous to be gay. Ahem. But I will tell you this, Noir. For whatever reasons I'm doing here…I've placed a footprint in. A pretty deep one at that. And I fear over what it may have done to you."

I looked at him, concerned.

"As we speak," he sighed and looked suddenly solemn as he proceeded in a low voice, "….your friends are most likely under the complete and utter assumption that you're a traitor in their midst."

My jaw dropped. My brow furrowed in disbelief.

"Oh yeah!" he nodded. "Not that I can blame them! You're positively noirish in your……being Noir!" A beat. He lowered his eyelids and pointed. "Over the last month, Noir, you've been in the busy process of corresponding with a secret identity over the Internet…."

I blinked. I pointed at him.

"That's right!!" he exploded. "But…they don't think that. In fact, they have every reason to believe that—instead of me—you've been talking to a certain scoundrel. A scoundrel who knows no boundaries when it comes to giving the Titans every little bit of Hell their hormonal little souls can taste of…."

I exhaled and glared off into space.

Slade……

"Why you would work for him is beyond me!!" he smiled.

I frowned at him.

"But you see---it's not so easy for them to realize how ludicrous such an idea is!" he said, pacing around me. "Because they've been confronted with the ludicrous world before. And it stabbed them in the back. Twisted and pulled out…dragging out the meat of their hearts and leaving them empty and wounded. And the knife's name was 'Terra'."

I looked at him.

I thought of Starfire's speech to me.

I saw the frown of Beast Boy and the downcast eyes of Cyborg.

I bit my lip.

"Slade's been….ya know….playing this really bigass ball game with the Titans ever since day one," the Messenger said, balancing playfully on one foot. "If you haven't known about this before—I'm honestly surprised. I'm guessing those Titans hide more about their past from you than you hide about yourself from them! And yet, I know more than you could ever shake a stick at. And look at me! I'm from another universe!"

I looked at him.

He giggled. "Wow. So literal. Ahem. So….Slade playing baseball…..yes….," he paused and then went on: "Robin was strike one. There was a morbid obsession from the beginning of Slade's notoriety to tame the would-be Titan king. For a split second in heroic history, the Boy Wonder was forced to work for an evil, crime underlord. His spirit was not into it, but oh gawd was his flesh into it. Smacking his teammates around like there was no tomorrow—and quite frankly there may not be anymore."

I stared at the Messenger. Awestruck.

Why was I not told any of this before???

"Robin came around. Duh. You know that," he rolled his almond eyes. "Well, that was Strike One, anyways. Strike Two was far worse. Slade reached out to the sweetest girl that there could be. A girl with immense power and a spirit that so impressed the Titans, they inducted her right upon meeting. Oh no, Noir. You are not the Sixth Titan….but rather the Seventh. There was a Lady of the Earth before you. An ever-so-tragic example of a soul strung between good and evil. She fought the whole time to figure out the infinitesimal meaning of 'self', and she pulled both Slade and the Titans into the cyclone of confusion with her. People were hurt on both sides. But we only care about the Titans, don't we? Their wound was the greatest. For Terra was their friend. She was one of their flock. A bird of their feather. And she roasted their asses so bad one day…oh gawds, it was terrible. You should have been there."

I gritted my teeth. I remembered the headlines of the City being overrun by Slade's soldiers.

But Terra….

"Believe me, she redeemed herself in the end," the Messenger grinned. "But it was far too late. The damage had been done. There was an incurable hole in the spirits of the Titans that still remains today—undoubtedly. Bleeding and ragged. When you came along…I think you more or less filled that needy hole, Noir."

I looked at him.

"Terra was strike two of Slade's ballgame," he said. "He had gone through two apprentices. But the inning was far from over." He smirked and spoke over the raging bass of the rave downstairs. "Oh no, two torturous battles with the Titans isn't enough for the cantankerous bastard. He must have a third strike, even if it kills him. He must manhandle a Third Apprentice. And in more ways than one—skewing even more the singularity of 'self'—he is doing that very same thing as we speak."

He walked over and perched up on the stand in front of the glowing sign reading 'SOTO'. "Both you and I know—Noir—that those hushed Internet conversations were between you and me. I'll take the blame for it being so 'hushed' to begin with. For now, at least. But what Slade has managed is a total mother of all hacks. Robin and his detective companions—using all sorts of technological prowess, I'm sure—have scanned through the messages you've sent and concluded in their empirical findings that you communicated with none other than the badass baseballer himself. As far as they're concerned, you are the Third Apprentice, Noir. You are the next in the line of betrayal. And that ragged hole of pain Terra had formed—that you had helped fill up in all of your sefless goodness—is starting to rip asunder again. Growing wider. Bleeding all over the damn place like an armadillo roadkill. You ever seen an armadillo run over by a car? The crazy-ass mothers practically explode! Heh…"

The Messenger paced the metal platform in front of the glowing letters as he continued: "And now that they're so convinced—magically I might add—that you are as evil as evil itself, I wouldn't doubt it if they kept mum about it. Certainly they're curious—as you and I are—as to why things are coming full circle."

I raised my eyebrows.

He looked at me. Frozen. "Is that phrase getting worn out to you by now? I hope so. It's only because things are coming full circle. You. The Titans. Slade. Slade's Apprentice. Everything is wrapping around itself. The giant Snake of Time is trying to encircle the Machine and eat its own tail. But that's only part of the game…part of the big ploy. You see….," he gestured, "…Slade wants things to come full circle. But that's not his ultimate goal. No, his ultimate goal is the successful completion of the Experiment. And the Experiment will lead to a total upheaval of the Balance of Morals. But to get from A to Z, you have to have A first. And that's going full circle. Through whatever far-out means that Slade can find. And believe you me, Noir, he's found them."

I took a deep breath and listened to him. Watched him. Breathed him in.

"The Balance of Morals….," the Messenger began. He leaned against the 'T' in 'SOTO'. "Would you believe me if I told you that—as odd as it sounds—there indeed is a scale to transient good and evil?"

I gave him a wyrd look.

"Well…nobody can sum it up in vocabulary," the Messenger shook. "The Zen Buddhists have it all down pat. Word of mouth cannot sum up the universe. The deconstructionists of literature say the same thing. But I like Zen Buddhists more. You won't find any deconstructionists managing a rock garden. HA!" He jumped down onto the flat roof and walked up to me. "You. Me. Slade. We have a balance of positives and negatives flowing through us. Kinda like George Lucas' Force…only minus the green elf lifting X-Wings and talking like an idiot-savant. Here….," he fingered his Yen Yang necklace and held it up for me to see. "Taoist?"

I gave him a 'look'.

"Pfft…right, forgot who I was talking to," he dropped the necklace back down around his sweat jacket's collar. "Ahem. Well, when things are NORMAL…these….um….'charges' cancel each other out. We live as three dimensional humans. Or four dimensional. Depends on whether or not you wear glasses. But in theory—and a wild theory at that—if this cancellation was to be upended…we could end up with too much positive charge or too much negative charge. But how does one accomplish that? You create a force strong enough to attract or repel the desired or disliked charge and gobble up whatever is left behind. I truly believe, Noir, that a giant buffet table of celestial experimentation has been prepared and Slade's mouth is watering."

I slowly spun around and looked at the distant image of the Tower against the horizon of darkness.

"Slade wants to….'dip his hand into the pool of charges'….you see…..he wants to destroy whatever balance there is to this unnamed force that summons the good and bad in everything that is. If such is possible—I am not sure. But Slade is aiming for it. And if for some far-out reason he grabs ahold of it…..well….the limit's the limit, and there is no limit. Slade will have infinite power over this domain. Such a ripple in the Balance of Morals could be so intense, so damaging, that it could even break through the thresholds cushioning this dimension within existence and affect the alternate universes bordering what you call 'Home'."

I took a deep breath and looked at him. This was all very……….frightening.

And yet, the Messenger smiled. "Only your world, Noir. I've been to so many…and I've only seen it brewing here. This world. This Slade. This City. And this…….th-this 'You'."

I blinked under my shades.

He chuckled. "Oh….I really like this 'You'. It's so…..so…..'You'."

I swallowed. I leaned my head to the side.

"You are the center, Noir," the Messenger said. "I knew it from the first minute I ever e-mailed you. You are where the fulcrum of this madness lies. Slade needs to use you as an upper hand against the Titans. As a distraction while he prepares to bring things full circle—somehow—and rape the very essence of essence itself. I'm not entirely sure how he plans to go about this fiendish plot. As dashingly cute as I may be, I'm not God, Noir. I'm just a humble little helper with a knack for seeing things. And from what I've seen, Slade has help in a lot of mysterious places. There's the Third Apprentice. Whoever that is, she or he is on Slade's side. And then there's the ever so lovely name that's been plaguing you and the Titans for weeks. The very same identity responsible for hacking into the Tower on so many an occasion----this time to falsify the data into making the Titans think it was Slade you were talking to and not me."

I inhaled…then mouthed: 'Dagger'.

The Messenger nodded. "The mother of all conspiracy theories. Er….'Father', I meant. Ahem. Even in all of my ghostly reconnaissance, I have no way of telling who exactly he is. But I know a little bit of what he's up to. The Third Apprentice is working directly for Slade. But Dagger…..Dagger is working with Slade. He's actually sharing Slade's rewards from bringing things Full Circle. But he wants different things than Slade. Things he may have acquired already—for he has been in the business of hiding in the criminal underworld, delving into conspicuous, secret schemes of evil, and being an overall pain in the proverbial Donkey—if you don't mind me quoting Starfire. Gawd, she's such a cute alien girl…isn't she?"

I planted my hands on my hips.

"Moving right along," he said. "Dagger. Slade. The Third Apprentice. All working together. Dagger wants the City. Slade wants the universe. And the Third Apprentice….."

"????" I waited anxiously.

He smiled. "Well, what do YOU want, Noir?"

I frowned at that. I gestured.

"Well, whatever it is….," he smirked. "She wants the opposite."

I did a double take. I mouthed: 'She?'

"All I know," he shrugged. "And if you're gonna maintain your trust with the Titans long enough to actually help them nab Dagger and Slade…you're gonna have to be the exact antithesis of her. Don't ask me how…cuz that's your department, hero."

My eyes widened under my mask. I hand-signed for him to 'stay'.

"My time in this universe is like a ripple in the water," he said. "Dancing down the stream, ducking under, and appearing in another place. I wish I could stay longer….but…..I have my constraints." He pointed at his bulky, black watch as he said that….as if that was supposed to mean something to me.

This guy was wyrd…..

"Do me a favor, Noir," he said in sudden solemnity that surprised me. "When you walk back home….when you're back inside that Tower…and you're surrounded by people who—as of now—you know do not trust you and are leading you on for their own sake…….do me a favor, and yourself one as well….."

I leaned forward…waiting.

He finished: "Treat them like your friends." He stared at me, deadpan. "For that is what they are, Noir. And if you want them to stay alive…that is what they must always be. The one constant in every universe I've been to is this: friendship, friendship, friendship. Friendship is the only Full Circle you'll ever want. Everything else….Slade…Dagger…the Third Apprentice….that can all go to shambles. Just see to it that you remain friends with those whom you love as long as you can. Even if they're too confused and wounded at the moment to return the favor. Life takes self-sacrifice. At least….the life that we all want."

I lowered my head.

I sighed.

I didn't want to go back now……..but…..I did want to all the same.

At least I knew I had to. And that was good enough for me.

The Messenger smiled and walked backwards across the rooftop of the Soto Warehouse. "So….again I ask…what is the sound of one hand clapping?"

Silence.

"By the end of this week….this hellish week to come…," he breathed in and said: "I hope you find that answer out, Noir. And—in fact—I hope to God you beat Slade and the Third Apprentice to it."

He gently reached to his watch.

Suddenly, before my eyes, there was a flash of green lives.

I blinked….and….

The Messenger was gone.

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

I entered the Tower that night through the windows of the Main Room, having blurred my way home. It didn't feel like a routine entrance. And at the moment, it felt good to break with routine.

To my luck, I came across Robin, Raven, and Cyborg in the Main Room.

As soon as they saw me, some of them smiled….some of them waved….but all of them were silent. I watched—still—as they returned to the scripted activities of doing nothing.

Cyborg did nothing as he played his favorite Xbox game.

Robin did nothing as he read over police reports concerning the collapse of Sakura Scraper.

Raven did nothing with her nose stuck deep into a book.

I looked at them all. I sighed.

I walked to the elevator without so much as a gesture of 'hello'.

As the automatic doors closed behind me, I could have sworn I sensed their heads turning and hushed voices rising into a tumult. And it no longer felt like home. I shivered and hugged myself.

I hugged myself all the way down the cellar…into my room…and onto my bed where I rested till morning.

I didn't get a wink of sleep.