185. For the Sky to Turn Red
"No, Mom. I put Phil in his crib! He stopped crying his head off. Can you believe it?"
An almost inaudible voice shouting across the spacious apartment.
Lindsay sat a computer, instant messaging with friends.
She listened to her mother and smiled. "Nah, I don't work tonight!!" she shouted back over her shoulder. "I was going to get together with the gang later!"
A shouting.
She shouted back: "Where else?? Bayside Plaza, of course!! Ya know…maybe one of us should walk into the other room instead of shouting back and for—"
Her mother's voice.
Lindsay sighed. "Yes. I know. I won't have Antoine driving. Not for all the tea in China! Both you and I want my head in one piece, so it'll be Jack or Lillian at the wheel. That'll do the universe some good, in the end."
Suddenly, the phone on a table across the living room rang.
"That's probably Lillian now…," Lindsay got up from her chair and bounded across the room. "I got it!!!"
An affirmative from the other room.
Lindsay smiled, picked up the phone, and held it up to her fair ear. "Hello?"
A beat.
A blink.
Her eyes rounded.
Her smile faded.
Lips parted….
"Wh-What…..??"
Silence.
Lindsay fidgeted.
She brought a nervous hand up and pulled a strand of stringy brown hair up around her earlobe.
She bit her lip.
A beat.
"Really? Where?"
Another beat.
"Of course I will! Er..uhm….," she looked over her shoulder. "Just….give me some time, okay?"
A pause.
"Please….I-I want to meet you. Just….wait for me."
Silence.
"Okay….h-hang in there….," she holstered the phone. She gazed through the wall. Breathing slowly.
Her pupils danced left and right momentarily, as if reading tomorrow's invisible headlines.
But swiftly she went to the computer, signed off, made an about-face for her room, and gathered some warmer clothes for heading out…
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
On a boardwalks across from the Bayside Plaza….
Shortly following a setting sun.
It was well more than two hours before Lindsay's scheduled meeting with her 'gang'.
But she was there. Wearing a red jacket. Her left hand dug in a pocket. Her braceleted wrist holding a cap on her head. She strolled across the wooden planks of the platform as cars drove by slowly along the semi-busy avenue bordering the plaza behind her.
She wasn't there for Antoine, Lillian, and the rest.
As she walked slowly, pensively down the boardwalk…she saw him. A darker silhouette against the shadowy sky and Bay beyond. He leaned precariously on the edge of the boardwalk outside of the railing. Any wrong move, and he could fall into the frigid ocean water below.
But Lindsay knew that it wouldn't be a problem for him.
"Tempest…..," Lindsay murmured as she walked to a stop. Her breath came out in vapors through the cold, November air. "What happened?"
"………..," Tempest looked her way. His dark eyes were thin. Empty. He was dribbling from head to toe with salt water. His clothes were soaked. He was even shivering.
But Lindsay figured that was normal of his kind. Or was it?
"I….didn't want to leave without telling you…," he simply said. A soft voice.
Her mouth widened. She blinked, a look of shock and concern splashing over. "Leave???"
He turned and leaned forward on the railing with his back to the waters. "I….I'm not saying that I'll be gone for good." He simpered…but melted back down into deadpan. "But….I'll probably be disappearing. For a little while at least."
"But why??" she wandered forward. "Tempest, you looked so happy the last time we parted ways. What happened?"
"……," He ran a shaking hand through his wet, black hair. He gazed through the boardwalk's planks…sighing. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing….is happening." A beat. He looked her way with a sick grin. "Nothing is happening, Lindsay. That's why I must leave."
"……," she stared at him. She gazed off in the distance. Towards Titan's Tower. She then looked back at him. Only her eyes moved. "The Titans. What did they do to you?"
"Nothing that I didn't deserve," Tempest leaned sideways, his left leg dangling 'playfully' over the waters beyond the boardwalk. "It's what they're doing to themselves that's bothering me. And eventually they'll be doing it to the City if they keep going at it."
Lindsay paced over towards him some. "What do you mean?"
"The Titans may be happy. They may be content….," the Atlantean muttered. "But they're lazy. Cowardly. Scared into their shells."
Lindsay glanced over at the City. The growingly brighter nights at light. The larger and larger group of wandering pedestrians. The smiles that were finally beginning to show once again.
"Who can blame them?" she muttered.
"…..," Tempest looked at the freckle-faced girl.
Lindsay stared back.
Tempest leaned over the railing and slowly said: "The light in Titan's Tower is a dim one, Lindsay. It might as well be hidden at the bottom of the Atlantic. The glow that they may have regained they hug to themselves. Like shivering hermit crabs in the cold. Their spirit is such that they will only do what is minimally necessary to preserve this wounded world around them. You're right. Who can blame them? Robin died. They're no longer the young vigilantes that they used to be. What was once wild-spirited has become exhausted and paranoid." Tempest gazed off over the gray waters. "Robin died. But the death of the Titans has only begun. Their courage is only temporary and fleeting these days. And their leader isn't doing a single damn thing to improve that."
Linday swallowed a lump in her throat. "Tempest….you're saying that like you aren't part of their team anymore!"
"…….," he merely gazed at her.
She bit her lip.
"I…..," Tempest winced. "….got in a really bad fight with Cyborg."
Lindsay blinked. "The Titans fight?"
Tempest chuckled.
Lindsay's eyes thinned.
The Atlantean rubbed his neck and cleared his throat. "Ahem….s-sorry…."
"It must have been…..really bad," Lindsay muttered.
He nodded. "It was. But it didn't need to be. I said some stupid things….and Cyborg said some stupider things….—" his fists clenched "--…and what really bothers me is that it didn't need to go that route. We didn't have to let our tempers flare. We didn't have to….yell…."
"Yell??"
"Mmmhmmm."
Silence.
A cold wind.
Lindsay hugged herself. "It's…..really hard to believe. I mean…the Titans….splitting up?"
"And I'm not alone…," Tempest quietly uttered. Looking at the darkening sky. "At least…I don't think so…."
"……."
"Noir is also leaving," Tempest said. Looking at her sideways. "He too can't stand this inaction. He can't stand sitting alone and doing nothing."
"What exactly is the nothing that you're doing?"
"Many things. But one that started this whole cascade," Tempest sighed. "Has anyone ever told you what happened to Dagger?"
"You mean the cruel man who somehow caused the tragedy on November Fourth?"
He nodded.
She swallowed and said: "The News programs have a bunch of theories. Pastor Rutland thinks he's out of Town for a short while. Antoine has this crazy-stupid theory about the Soviet Union being rebuilt and stuff………b-but…."
"But….."
Lindsay sighed. "Nobody really knows…."
Tempest spoke gently: "But somebody should. Robin was the closest to grabbing ahold of Dagger's heels. But he died before the Titans could come any closer. And ever since the Boy Wonder bit the bullet, the Titans have let themselves be defeated. They don't have the gall to take up the reins of the chase from Robin. Even if they've got the biggest bait in the whole wide world to motivate them into pursuing the evil cretin Dagger."
"And what's that?"
"Not a that….a whom."
Lindsay leaned her head to the side.
"Terra."
Her lips parted. "Terra?"
"They know that Dagger has her. And yet…even that's not enough to get them moving. Cyborg at least."
"But…wasn't she a traitor?"
Tempest stared at her. A few seconds passed. He gently said: "Doesn't your religion say something big about 'forgiveness'? Do you believe it possible for any soul to be redeemed…especially after careful consideration of what has caused such a person to go through so much duress and confusion to begin with?"
"……," Lindsay looked down with a sad face. "I guess….I-I guess I just don't know enough…"
Gently, his fingers touched her chin and lifted her freckled face.
He smiled gently at her. "Neither do I, Lindsay."
"……."
"Neither do I….," he leaned back. His dark eyes trailed towards the waters. "And that is why I must leave. I must search….."
"For what, Tempest?"
"I don't know. But when I find it….I'll be back."
He made to dive--
"Wait….," she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"???" he gazed at her, still.
She swallowed. She said: "Can we just….I dunno…."
"………"
"T-Talk a little more?" she smiled bashfully.
He gazed off towards the horizons. The stars were beginning to come out. He sighed long and hard. He looked at her. He smiled. "Yeah…..," he breathed.
Her teeth showed.
"There's no harm in that. No harm in that at all."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Slowly….with difficulty….Blake Glover sat up in his medical bed.
"……..," I sat across from him. Gazing at him. My fingers folded together. Flesh and metal.
Patient….
He rested back against pillows. He panted, his mouth hanging open. He looked like the living dead. Or half dead living. I couldn't for the life of me understand how he had gotten so emaciated and sickly in so short a period of time. He gazed at me with a pale roll of his eyes underneath a bald head that had lost almost all of its stubborn comeover. He swallowed a dry mouth, smiled a creepy smile, and gently spoke:
"Do you still think of me as a villain, Noir?"
I bit my lip.
He chuckled. He coughed. He wheezed. He winced….calmed…and breathed again. Smiling, he said:
"At least I am suffering the death fitting for one. In some way or another, we always end in a reason justly imposed by something we have done after our beginning. I have spent many years pricking the urban world for blood to splash around with my articles. Now I am down to my last pint. A terrible, malignant lung cancer has claimed my name….and now my life…..you remember my telling you that, don't you?"
I took a deep breath.
My black eyes narrowed underneath my shades.
I thought about Glover.
I went back to the night the Puppet King had the Tower hostage. Glover, Decker, and a bunch of other famous City names were there under hypnotic control of the supernatural villain.
No…
I went back to the Wyldecarde days. Forcing Glover to dispose of the video tape of Jinx and I on the highway. Mock-threatening his neck in front of Robin and Raven.
No……
Visiting the estate of Veronica Vreeland. The rich lawn had been transformed into fairgrounds for funding the Westhaven Opera House. I was standing idly with Raven. And….he appeared. A ribbon was on his lapel.
My lips parted.
That's right………
I gazed at him. Honest sympathy.
Five months later and he had practically become a corpse.
Nobody deserves that. Villain or not--
"Only…," he wheezed and gazed up at the ceiling. Resting his tired eyes. "…it isn't really lung cancer."
"…….???" I made a face.
"Oh, my doctors think so. And my associates. Whatever few family members I have left. How much they are deceived like I once was. I had no idea that Dagger was slowly poisoning me from day one…making it look like the hand of mother nature abandoning my awkwardly youthful health…" the middle-aged man mumbled. A beat. He tiredly looked at me again. That same, awkwardly happy smile: "…but nobody truly knows the waves of fate surging across this reddened landscape. They can't see the fingers of Death at work, not accurately." He shifted in his seat and sat as perfectly straight as he could. I had this crazy urge to rush over and help him raise his head to a conversational level. "Even when the stroke of death is dancing across this landscape and leaving ripples in the water that claim hundreds of lives…people are blinded. They are always blinded. I don't know what ever got me into journalism to begin with. It's a giant red herring sailing out of the cosmos like a meteor." He coughed. He sighed: "It took me a long time…and quite a bit of dramatic urging on many fronts to convince me….that indeed I am a messenger. But not the sort of messenger I have tried to be. But something far greater. With a much more valiant purpose."
I leaned my head to the side.
Listening.
Watching.
He strained to lean forward and grinningly utter: "But now is the threshold of destiny. The full circle of the balance of morals being rebooted for the sake of destiny and fate's endless, childish game." He wheezed, and smiled again: "Now….Now is the time for me to redeem myself. For all the years of journalistic villainy. Of blasting do-gooders like you and the Titans. Of seeking to glorify nobody and nothing save me and my own futile devices. Now that I have you here…this tired, dying messenger can do his job. And the wildcard of this battlefront of the war of fates can begin his climactic journey…before the poison inside of me eats my body into ashes…"
I blinked my black eyes.
Poison?
Another blink.
Balance of morals?!?! Wildcard?!?! Full circle?!?!
What the Hell?!?!?!?!
Have you been talking to---??
"I'm glad that my assistant Avery was punctual in delivering my letter to your Tower…," Glover laid back in his bed some and gestured with a frail arm. "He's never come close to understanding the obsessive searches I've gone through over the last few months. To him, I'm just an insane…dying man. He can believe what he wants. But now that you're here…I'll leave the final critique to you, Noir. Do you think I am crazy? Or am I legitimate?"
"………"
"Hehehehe…..mrphh….in a moment….you will have no choice but to believe me."
I took a deep breath.
"The Titans….," he almost hissed. His breath was so hoarse. He twirled his finger, swallowed, and uttered weakly: "They are dying….one by one………..you know this, don't you?"
A shudder.
My left arm was just beginning to shiver. Just beginning….
I gripped the metal joints with my left hand.
I swallowed.
I….nodded.
"The team is dissipating…they have been robbed of all hope and almost even all courage…."
I exhaled.
I nodded…..
"Robin's death has struck a mortal blow in your team, young Noir….," Glover said. "And inevitably…this will pull the crime fighters apart. Sooner than later…the Titans will be no more…."
I breathed through my nostrils. I ran a hand through my thick hair and gazed off towards the apartment's tall stretch of windows.
Tell me something I don't know, old man……
Or else stop wasting my time……
"This…..is hardly a coincidence…."
"???" I looked at the man with wider eyes.
"This is all merely falling in line with that which was set to transpire since the beginning," he wheezed. "And that very same beginning was—at a time—the absolute end."
I looked at him at a suspicious angle.
"There is a terrible….horrible virus on the loose in this hemisphere, Noir….," Glover said. "A….A worm. A Parasite. To some, it is a destabilizing disease. But to a noble few, it is a ravenous carnivore. And it's that noble few that most count in this case. For one of them is already gone. Lost to the Destruction. Consumed by the stroke of death."
"…….."
"Robin's death was assured a long time ago…," Glover said. "Not a matter of a week. But months. Months ago, his death warrant was assigned. It only took this long for the wheel of time to click into motion along the grooves of fate and swing everything into deadly fruition. A direct line has been cut through the balance of morals. A red, seeping gash. Leaking blood like murking smoke. Summoning all that can be summoned from the powers of Destruction. All aimed at one thing and one thing alone. The death of Robin….the death of Robin and all close to him. An insatiable bloodlust to paint his and the Titan's domain crimson. A red aviary. A rusted grave."
A breath escaped me.
My metal arm twitched.
And the shiver….
Red Aviary………
Does he know?
Does anyone know?
Jinx……Pulsade……J……Viper……
They all seemed so panicked.
So anxious.
So much in a hurry.
Foaming at the mouth.
But Glover here……before me.
Even on the brink of rolling over dead in his bed……he is at peace. He is tranquil.
Almost like……almost like……
The Messenger……
"This murderous rough divide has had its inevitable side effects," Glover said. "And I'm sure you know some of them, Noir. H.I.V.E. has crumbled to pieces and is struggling to rebuild itself. Viper was caught up in the bloodlust and tried to become Destruction itself. Evil corporations have either scattered or banded together to confront the greater evil surging in their midst. And—at ground zero of the red aviary—this City has bled so…so much. Through innocent civilians. Through law enforcement. Through Commissioner Decker. Rachel Mendez. Jean-Luc Blair. Phaser Labs. And….finally….terminating Robin himself."
I swallowed a lump in my throat.
I felt numb.
Glover continued:
"But the death has not ended, Noir….," his pale eyes narrowed across his paler face. "It is merely resting. Coiled. Hiding. Poised. Taking a breath in the afterglow of vampiric fever. The carnivore is sharpening its claws. It is looking for fresh meat. It is seeking the wounded lamb of the group…then moving its way up towards the top. Until the bird cage is drenched in all its extremities with the blood of drained loved ones. The Titans….one at a time. Destruction will terminate them all…sealing their fate."
I bit my lip.
But he gestured and said: "But….Red Aviary is not entirely invisible. It is like a virus. Yes, in fact, like a Parasite to some entities of the criminal underworld."
My mouth moved. I instinctively mouthed: 'Triangular.'
Glover slowly nodded. "You've been told of this before. By another Messenger. Heheheh…quite the inspirational chap, he."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Triangular….a grouping of the three strongest powers on this continent. Coming from three of the largest Cities. Dagger. Lex Corp. And Gotham City's most ruthless." He leaned his head to the side. "I have done so much research. And even yet…Gotham City remains a mystery. A missing card from the deck. But soon, it will be filled in and exposed to view. But god help us all the day that happens. Do you know why, Noir?"
I leaned forward. Shaking my head. Earnestly curious…
"Because Triangular is preparing for a strike of its own…," Glover said. "The faction knows that its innards are being eaten alive by Red Aviary. The Parasite is somehow pulling the strings of everyone in the criminal underworld. Dagger, Lex Luthor, and the other partners have far too many vulnerabilities and weaknesses to leave unguarded this time that things are coming full circle. True, Dagger invaded this City to acquire what he believes to 'belong to him'. But do you really think he came solely on his own accord??"
"………"
"Even the most powerful men in this world, Noir—evil or not—must bow down to some force at some time or another. Dagger may be invincible to many things. But he cannot escape pure Destruction. No matter how much he stares into the red storm fearlessly. Where Red Aviary moves, he must inevitably follow. The Parasite is manipulating him. And he knows it. Much like Red Aviary has its reaper like grip in Gotham City and Metropolis. Dagger must be where the Parasite is….because Red Aviary needs cover. Red Aviary needs confusion and hell to mask its movements. To make it twice as invisible. After all…it was Red Aviary that struck on August Fourth and Fifth. The Parasite was leading the bloody spear, and Dagger was merely trailing behind like a tattered flag. How else do you think those closest to you perished?"
I looked confused. Very…very confused…
Glover pointed with a frail hand. "My chair…."
"……"
"On my chair."
I jumped. 'Oh,' I mouthed. I swiftly spun about, glanced around, found a chair, and lifted a pile of plastic sheets off it.
Photographs.
Flip to the red paper clip….
"…..," I looked at the papers. I found a red divider holding a few sheets at bay. I peeled the other glossy sheets away and shuffled the clipped batch on top.
"Take a good look…."
And so I did.
"……..," I narrowed my eyes.
It was a scratchy, black and white photo of a street from a bird's-eye view somewhere in the City's downtown. A car was parked in a parallel space along the side. Monochromatic snapshots of people walked up and down the side of the asphalt in mid-stroll. Some with children. Others by themselves.
There was a digital counter on the bottom right.
It read: 11/04/2004 9:00 am.
"Does the car look familiar?" Glover asked.
I shrugged.
I flipped through identical photos.
11/04/2004 11:00 am.
11/04/2004 12:00 pm.
11/04/2004 1:15 pm.
11/04/2004 1:17 pm.
He spoke while I flipped through. "I'll give you a hint…," he smiled weakly. Proudly. "The Police Department Building….before most of its front half collapsed….it has security cameras positioned on the ledges of the sixth floor…."
I bit my lip.
Shuffling.
11/04/2004 2:00 pm.
11/04/2004 2:15 pm.
In the last snapshot, five figures appeared on the sidewalk outside the unseen entrance steps of the Police Department. Four Titans. A Police Commissioner.
I took a deep breath. I knew what was coming next.
I shuffled.
11/04/2004 2:25 pm.
Kaboom.
A huge, black charred spot haloing a pillar of smoke rested in the bottom left of the frame. The Commissioner's car had exploded.
I shuffled to the last sheet in the bundle.
11/04/2004 2:30 pm.
Nothing. The screen was blank. The police department had almost entirely collapsed from the terrorist R.P.G. Camera and all.
And then all Hell broke loose……
"Tell me, Noir….would you find Dagger a likely candidate to have—using all his devices—installed the car bomb in Decker's vehicle that so mercilessly ended his life?"
I looked at him.
I nodded with a face like that was the most stupid question in the world.
Glover blinked. "But is it probable….that someone else….morbidly have done it?"
"…….."
He pointed.
"Take a look again."
I hesitated.
"Before the explosion…"
I slowly reshuffled the photos.
I went through them again.
11:00 am.
12:00 pm…
1:15 pm…….
1:17 pm……….
….I stopped.
"……."
I went back to '1:15'.
I looked at the photo.
Closely.
My eyes narrowing.
A manhole cover….
"…….."
A manhole cover barely beneath the car had slid open.
"………."
I shuffled.
'1:17'
The dark hand of a shadowed figure was receding from the underbelly of the Commissioner's car.
"……"
I shuffled then to—
2:00 pm.
And…..
Nothing……
The manhole had resealed.
My lips parted.
I blinked.
I looked up at Glover.
He smiled at me.
"……," I mouthed something.
He answered me without having to read lips. "Not Dagger…," he shook his head. "Nor one of Dagger's men. Do you want to know why I've figured that out?"
Slowly….I nodded. Entranced.
His frail finger pointed again. "On the counter. Across the way."
As gracefully as my anxious self could, I got up and shuffled over to the bar. I picked up a bundle of photos that he was pointing to. Large, glossy sheets. Sandwiched inside a beige folder. I came back and nervously sat by the dying man's side.
"Take a look."
I opened the folder…and wished that I hadn't.
The Radioactive Depository.
A surveillance photo from four blocks away.
Infrared.
At night……
I winced.
"Look at them….carefully….," Glover patiently uttered.
I sighed. I quietly obeyed.
I slowly flipped to the next cityscape snapshot.
The same exact image….or so it seemed.
There was a counter at the bottom right, but I couldn't discern the numbers like I could the Police Department pics.
So, I flipped again.
Nothing.
And again.
Nothing.
And—
Kaboom.
A huge, mushroom cloud of an explosion from the distance.
A shiver ran up my metal limb.
I swallowed.
I flipped another page.
The cloud of fire descended over the radioactive depository as the clamshell sarcophagus closed up—
"Stop!"
I
froze.
Glover pointed.
"The far left….in the infrared….hiding in the dark corners of the City…."
"….," I looked.
The infrared snapshot had a sort of monochromatic glare about it. There was so much bright, white-hot madness going on in the distance that everything else seemed nonexistent. As if plunged into a cold abyss haloing the hellfire four blocks away. And yet…in the corner of the visual kaleidoscope, there was a wash-over affect of light trails. And a few of those light trails…
I leaned forward.
….they silhouetted a shadowy figure. Tall. Menacing. Standing on a rooftop of some random warehouse and…
Staring directly at the flaming carnage.
The cremated death of Robin.
And—if I didn't know any better—it was the same figure that showed itself rather briefly from the manhole in the Police Department snapshot.
"He who plants the explosion is he who is responsible for the murders of Commissioner Decker and the Boy Wonder," Decker said. "The exact same person who tried—rather unsuccessfully—to seal Jinx's fate when he planted a carbonite explosive of identical nature in the Omega Wing of the City Prison on the morning of October Twenty-Third. Jinx merely escaped because of her ability to bend fate, as well as her close alliance with Pulsade—a deadly talented assassin—and a young hacker whom you know as 'J'. But even though Jinx survived, she—like Triangular, and like yourself as well—have become mere pawns in a giant chess game run by the very same Parasite that has proven bloody and victorious in the end. The ultimate terminator. Red Aviary."
"………," I gazed numbly at the photos spilling about in my flesh and metal hands.
"Noir…," Glover slowly spoke. "I came into this whole mess by being drawn in by the violent, the disturbing, and the bizarre. A pair of nasty murders at Pier 7123 in Gotham and Pier 4146 in this City. Numbers that coincidentally map out a bayside chemical factory in Gotham where a terrible tragedy happened long ago and remains largely untold. The names of a deadly hit list hinted in letters carved on mutilated victims' bodies. Trails of blood spelling a stroke of death to cover the land. A razor-edged playing card pointing me in a direction that would take me through interviews with invisibly-cloaking assassins, fate-bending sorceresses, a man helplessly possessed by a young hacker and forced to steal a very precious video tape to me, and finally a revelation of a phone call from a mysterious entity with whom—in some awkward fashion or another—I could relate."
I stared at him. Overwhelmed.
Glover took a wheezing breath and uttered firmly: "There is an imbalance in the Spectrum, Noir."
My lips parted.
The Spectrum……
His weak eyes narrowed. "You know what I talk about….don't you?"
I breathed heavily.
An imbalance in the Spectrum……
I gazed off through the windows beyond his medical bed.
Destruction.
Red.
Crimson……
My fingers clenched.
But……it couldn't possibly……
My black eyes narrowed in thought.
It couldn't possibly be him……
Could it, Ana??
After all these years……
I took a deep breath.
My jaw tightened.
No……not him.
I inhaled deeply.
I would know it if it was him.
I would feel it.
But this……
Red Aviary……
Why haven't I been able to feel—
Glover suddenly quoted: "'In order for the sky to turn red, the Earth must bleed'."
I looked at him. Curious. Listening.
He finished, reading the words on the back of a photo: "'By his breath they freeze, by his breath they die. Smoke and mirrors is what keeps him alive'."
He held the back of the photo up. He looked at me.
"Red Aviary has had his prophetic introductions, before. And I feel so….so foolish to have not figured it all out sooner. There's so much I could have prevented. So much I could have warned you and the Titans about." He gestured with his other hand. "For this heroic world of yours to be washed with blood, Robin had to die. And he did. That's true. But almost as importantly—if not more importantly—two others must die. And the next one in line for termination…the first of the remaining two….is bleeding as we speak."
"……..," I blinked at him.
"She…..," Glover breathed. "….she was taken by Red Aviary….but in the hands of that which the Parasite controls now. Triangular. Dagger."
I exhaled.
Terra……
"She is the next one to die. But it will not be a pleasant death. There is much to be leeched from her. Much to be extracted….to be used towards malevolent goals once again. The Earth will bleed. And once it does…then it will be on to the rest of the aviary to turn red."
I glanced down at the floor.
Dagger has Terra.
He has her……and Red Aviary can strike her at any second.
I gulped.
He WILL strike her at any second……
"And then the next in line….."
I looked up.
"….the last hump before the rest of the Titans fall into chaos…."
"………"
Glover took a wheezing breath. "He is as important to the wheel of fate now as he was when the Balance of Morals first went full circle….."
And he flipped the photo around.
And I saw another monochromatic, surveillance snapshot.
But this time….
This time of something utterly familiar.
And I instantly shivered.
FLASH!!!!
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
SLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIINK!!!!!!!
I drove Myrkblade into Slade…to the hilt. The wooden curve of the blade easily drove out the back of his body. He lurched forward on the object skewering him and convulsed. The opening to his mask was just besides my right ear as he hacked and crimson saliva oozed heavily out from his breathing vent.
"Snkkkkkk…..y-you are a ffffffool, Noir. Hckkkk!!…O-Only fools tear themselvessssss up for friends. Only f-fools……….," and his breath faded.
I inhaled, charged murk, and pulled back.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
FLASH!!!!
My metal limb jolted.
Rrrrrred aviarrrry……
I shivered.
I clutched my shaking, titanium wrist.
My teeth chattered.
I shook all over.
Glover kept holding the photo up. The visual epithet of the dying Slade. The one-armed boy ripping him apart.
"Time of death……03:21 hours…..3:21 am….July Fifth…," Glover spoke. He put the paper down. "There is something very….very special about this date, Noir. Too special to be a mere coincidence."
"………??"
He pointed proudly down at the bundle of photos still on my lap.
I glanced down.
The white-hot plume of the Radioactive Depository engulfing the unseen Boy Wonder inside.
Glover wheezed: "Confirmed shortly after by police experts…….the explosion at the depository went off….at exactly 3:21 am……November Fifth."
The shiver.
The metal arm twitching.
But I couldn't take it off.
Not then.
Not now……
"Everything is coming full circle…."
I took a shuddering breath.
"What was once the moment of the Titans' salvation….has turned catastrophically into their death card."
I looked up at them.
"What was once a victory for good and Construction in the Balance of Morals….has spilled over into evil and Destruction."
I stared…listening.
"Life….to Death. White….to Red."
I swallowed nervously.
But then he smiled again…and for the first time that night, I was beginning to feel like I understood why…
"But….what is Black to either side of the spectrum….but a wild card?" He took a struggling breath. He added: "Red Aviary may have the dead man's hand. But the drama play is hardly finished. The act is nowhere near finished. As the first of many, many clues announced to me….'The game is not yet over. The head dealer still has a hand'."
I was shaking still. But no longer for all the wrong reasons. I felt some inevitable fire building up inside of me. And it flickered with every roll of the once-pathetic man's tongue.
"Noir….you again are the wildcard. The Titans…the Justice League….maybe even the very Balance of Morals itself depends on you and your black tenacity once more. All eyes may not be on you, but all the hearts left beating rest in your smoking grasp. This is my message unto you. My purpose fulfilled. You must not let the aviary turn red. Robin's death was inevitable. It was a sacrifice for the rest of his family. You must find Terra. You must take her out of Triangular's grasp. You must hide her from Red Aviary's sight. This is the only way to break the circle now. To tip the balance back. To let Red Destruction wear itself out till the terminator himself is terminated. Just as much as there is an end to Life, there is an end to Death. You are the spirit of the black smoke. The neutral reaper who strikes down both poles of the universe. Now….your task lies before you again. Alone or not…you know what lies before you. You can feel it….on the streams of fate itself."
"……," I took a deep breath. I nodded…..
"And I….," Glover smiled. "….I shall tell you where to go."
"……."
"I shall tell you where to find Terra…."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"When you go….what will you be looking for?" Lindsay asked.
The two sat on the railings of the boardwalk's dock.
Legs dangling over the waters.
Tempest gazed up at the stars. The second most beautiful gift the surface world had given him.
Second most beautiful……
"Fate….," the Atlantean murmured. "Like the currents of the Atlantic. The waves of the Pacific. The cyclones and the monsoons….." He gazed gently at the freckled-faced teen besides him. "I have lived my life drifting from one tempest to another. And—cursed as I am—not one single squall has managed to end me."
A beat.
He smiled gently and hugged himself. "I….I am the happiest I've ever been…."
"Really?"
"In some queer fashion, yes," he nodded. "I can't explain it. This isn't misery. And yet it is. This isn't ecstasy…and yet….."
"???" she leaned her head to the side.
He looked at her.
Silence.
The stars.
The lapping waters….
"The Titans won't last long as it is….," Tempest said. But then a corner of his lips curved. "And yet…."
"What??" she asked breathily.
He smiled. "I am most certain now….that even if they do break up…..something impossibly Good will bring them back together."
She parted her lips. "How do you know that?"
"Because….," he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. He gazed at her. "Some things are far too beautiful to end so easily."
"……….," she averted her eyes from him.
He chuckled.
She giggled.
A chime of laughter across the waves….
"I do declare, I believe I am getting the vapors," Lindsay giggled.
"How poetic," Tempest gestured as she chuckled on. "I should write your pastor's sermons."
"Nuh uh," she shook her head. Smiling. "Dad would call that drawing inspiration from worldly places."
"Uh huh---what????" Tempest looked at her strange.
"Pastor Rutland," Lindsay said.
"…………."
"…………..," she nodded, smiling. "He's my dad."
"…………..," Tempest blinked his dark eyes. He goofily took his hand off her shoulder and gulped. "Um….I…I-I haven't touched you!"
"Hehehehehe!! Pleeeeease," she playfully shoved him. "It's not like that."
"Ha ha ha ha!" he chuckled. "Seriously! I haven't!!"
She looked at him slyly. "What's keeping you?"
"…………"
"…………"
"…………," he lifted her chin.
Her breath slowly left her.
He leaned forward.
Her eyes narrowed.
Tempest gently…softly…..kissed her on the cheek.
Lindsay was still as a statue.
Her cheek was warm as his breath when he drew back. He caressed the freckles on her face and then touched a lock of stringy brown hair. Softly smiling, he said: "Someday….Someday soon….I will be back for those lips…."
"………….," Lindsay was flushed.
"………….," he smiled. He exhaled. His gills opened and--
SWOOOSH!!
SPLOOOSH!!!!
He dove into the waters.
And Lindsay stared at the endless waves.
The Tower beyond.
The cold, gray night of November.
And…
She felt warmly alone.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Noir, you must go West. I have been hard at work on my last piece of research. There will be no winning awards for this. This will all be in your hands. Triangular has major holdings in underground hideouts far west on the Continent. In the desert. Where the law of this Nation is difficult at best to reinforce. And like all criminal empires, everything grows like a malignant cancer around one place and one place in particular. You will find the answer to Terra's plight just outside of that cancer. Less than a hundred miles east of Las Vegas, there is a desert ranch in the wilderness known as Shepherd Plain. It looks on the surface as a place for herding cattle. But, in fact, it's a front for one of Triangular's most prominent figures. A close associate to Dagger's. A loyal criminal by the name of……Jacob Anderson. That name must sound at least slightly familiar. And it should. But what's important to realize, is that Jacob Anderson is in possession of the most important piece of criminal property that side of the Mississippi Valley. Something known as the Herculean Vault. The Herculean Vault is a specially crafted safe-holding-chamber located somewhere in the Las Vegas metropolitan area. It has been built by the cunning of Gotham criminals, the resourcefulness of Dagger's forces, and the funding of Lex Luthor's empire. It is virtually indestructible to all known forms of law enforcement and those brandishing super powers, as it was specifically crafted to resist even the brute force of Superman himself. Inside the Herculean Vault are countless prized artifacts. Some rumored to be as old as the criminal, secret societies that have robbed them from the cultures of the world for centuries on end. Some others are said to be special secret weapons that could one day end every member of the Justice League and any other superhero organization the globe-over. But there is one thing in the Herculean Vault, Noir, that you must acquire at all costs. It is a Key. But not just any Key……but a Key designed to do two things. One: To find the location of Terra. Two: To open the place where she is being hid. Wherever she is being hid. There are only two such Keys in the world. Both specifically engineered for the secrecy of Triangular's scheme. One is in the hands of Dagger himself. And the other……the last remaining one……is in that Herculean Vault. It is waiting for Red Aviary. It is waiting for the true wielder of death to rush in and steal it in such a fashion that only the Reaper himself can do. You must beat him to it, Noir. You must head West. West into the desert of Nevada. You must work through Jacob Anderson to open that Vault. And you must acquire the Key to Terra's salvation. What you do once you catch up to the girl's statue is in your capable hands. All I can do is point you in the right direction. Time is of the essence. The less ambiguous the deadly truth is……the more that the smoke and mirrors dissipate……all that's left is red. The aviary gets bathed more and more. You are one of the two thirds left to this crimson puzzle. Robin is dead, but you are alive. And Terra remains to be saved. Go to her, Noir. The Earth must not bleed. The sky must not turn Red."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
'With fate on your side, Noir……you will once again bring yourself and the Titans Full Circle……in the most absolutely glorious way……'
Tempest drifted eastward….eastward….eastward….
Hugging his arms to his chest.
His legs straight out.
Like a slowly skimming torpedo.
Gliding through the murky depths.
His eyes were closed.
Almost meditative.
His black hair swirled in the currents.
His gills gently filtered bubbling streams in and out.
"………….."
He approached the frothy bottom of the Bay.
And….
A flickering.
"…………"
A….flickering……
Tempest's eyes fluttered open.
White specks on black spheres.
He blinked.
He glanced down.
"…….."
Wonder washed over his face like oil off a fish's scales.
His lips parted.
A stream of bubbles flew out of his mouth and dissipated.
"……."
His eyes narrowed.
He spread his limbs.
He treaded himself upright.
He drifted himself down….down…down…
The flickering happened again.
He came to a stop.
His face frozen in perplexity.
Confusion.
And shock all the same.
He reached two hands down towards the ocean floor.
He picked something up
Something that he was then holding in his palms.
And as he looked squarely at it…..
The flickering turned into a glow.
A red……red glow…..
Red clouds of light shimmering off his smooth skin.
And he immersed himself in the crimson kaleidoscope.
Like a fish staring into a light show.
And…for but a moment….
His magenta-cast figure was still……in thought.
He quickly jerked into action.
He hugged the thing to his chest, spiraled around….
…..and swam north along the coastline.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Thwip!
Thwiiip!!
I slipped on my tan slacks.
I zipped them up.
I strung a belt in around my waist.
Dear Titans,
Fwoomp!
My black tanktop.
Tight around my chest and shoulders.
Tucked into the waistline of my slacks.
I am leaving the team. I am leaving the Tower.
I slipped a flesh arm into one sleeve of my combat fatigues.
Then my metal arm into the other sleeve.
When Robin died, he had a contract left unfinished. A contract that he sacrificed his life for at the last second to maintain. A contract that I cannot ignore any longer the more I sit at home doing nothing.
I tucked the jacket in.
Tightly.
I fit tools and first aid supplies into the pockets of my slacks…my jacket…both the outsides and insides.
I know I have done things to the extreme before. Sacrificing both myself and the overall peaceful status quo of everything around us. And—as predicted—I am doing it yet again.
I slipped one black boot on.
I laced it tight.
Thwifft!
The same with the other…
Please, do not be sad. Do not be despondent. Yes, I am leaving you. But I am not turning my back on you. I love each and every one of you far too much to ever abandon you.
I stood up straight.
I took the scabbard in flesh and metal hands.
I looped it over my shoulders and holstered it around myself.
But this is a task that I must do alone. A long time ago, I discovered a power. A power that fought to balance the factors of Red and White. Death and Life. Both interchangeable. Both comprehendible from behind the black veil of smoke. If I just close my onyx eyes, I can feel it. My destiny. Like fingers of spatial sense. I have a job to do. I have a contract to finish. And as loyal to all of you as I am, I know that this is something that I must do alone. To bring any of you into this……would only paint the Aviary more Red.
I held a red bandanna up to my forehead.
I wrapped it around my head.
Binding the long locks of black hair down.
Tying it in the back.
Tight.
Firm.
I leave Westward. Do not try and follow me. For soon, I will follow myself back here.
I held a yellow communicator labeled 'T' in my hand.
I gazed at it.
I exhaled.
I dropped it coldly to the ground.
I twirled Myrkblade.
Th-Th-Thwish!!
I leaned forward.
Thwish!!
The sword twirled to a stop.
I slid it into my scabbard.
CHIIIIIING!!!
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
FWOOOSH!!!
I ran up the pillar of the suspension bridge's support.
I jumped up, flipped, and landed in a perching squat.
Plant!!
I stood up.
I clenched my metal fist.
Chasing the shivers away.
And under the lonely night sky…
In the cold, bitter air of November.
I stared over the coming and going cars.
Westward.
"……."
I will return, dear Titans. I will return.
I took a deep breath.
I closed my naked black eyes.
But when I do return……I promise you……
I reopened my eyes.
Jaw tight.
I slid my shades over them.
I saw everything…
…clearly.
I will not be alone. For I shall have Terra with me. Alive and well. This shattered family of seven shall be a healthy, happy family of seven once again.
I held my breath.
I got into a crouching position.
I summoned murk.
A pulse.
And….
I blurred down the structure of the Suspension Bridge.
I left the City.
I headed West….
The Earth……must not bleed……
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Sincerely,
Noir.
"…………..," Cyborg finished scanning down the end of the page.
A beat.
He numbly crumpled the sheet of paper in his grasp. He clenched it hidden in fist and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes rolling back. A painful…exhausted sigh coming from his lips.
"…………."
He looked back down, defeated.
He slowly turned….
…and faced the other three Titans on the other side of the Main Room.
Raven, Beast Boy, and Starfire sat anxiously together on the couch.
Staring at him.
Awaiting…..
"What does the letter tell us?" Starfire murmured.
"Noir….has…….," Cyborg's eye trailed. "……….." After a deathly pause, he looked at them again—stumbled—but finally uttered: "…Noir has decided to move on."
Beast Boy hugged his knees to his chest.
Starfire held a hand over her mouth.
Raven blinked. She glanced aside. Icily gazing at the floor.
"But…B-But why….?" Starfire stammered. "Why would our friend leave us??"
"The same reason Tempest undoubtedly has….," Cyborg rubbed the human part of his head. "The same reason….I'm sure….all of us are contemplating."
Sad…sad silence….
Beast Boy's voice wavered a bit as he murmured: "Things must be really….really bad for Noir to leave us…."
Quiet…..
"After all he's done….after all he's ever done to save us…."
Starfire rested a hand on the changeling's shoulder.
The green elf sniffed. He shut his eyes gently and sighed.
"You are sure he didn't give a specific reason?" Raven asked, leaning her fair, blue head to the side. "Did Noir mention anything to you about why he's leaving?"
"Surely our friend thinks of the implications of his actions…," Starfire gestured. "Noir has proven himself a pragmatic hero…."
Cyborg shook his head. "He's gone." He looked at Raven. "Raven….you of all people should know that Noir could never truly find peace with us…."
Raven bit her lip.
Cyborg went on: "Not even the Titans could…c-could secure whatever pain in his past he ultimately hid from us." He gazed off towards the dark night outside the windows. "It's ironic, kind of. Like Robin dying all over again…."
Beast Boy sniffed once more. "So….this is it, then?"
"…….."
"This is how it all ends?"
A beat.
"It is not over….," Raven droned.
Cyborg looked at her.
She took a deep breath and looked up. Deadpan a face as always. "Us four….we are the originals. Minus Robin…we are the Titans that always were….."
"…………," Cyborg gently, painfully smiled.
Starfire looked at everyone. Suddenly, explosively…she jumped up with a raised fist. "To the Titans!!!"
Beast Boy jumped. He gazed at Starfire, wide-eyed. But slowly…his shocked expression turned to something of knowing, pride and joy. He wiped the last drop of frailty from the corner of his eye with a sleeve, jumped up, and joined Starfire's fist with his. "To the Titans!"
Raven's lips were somewhat curved and Cyborg was smiling bright as they both joined the circle with raised fists.
"To the Titans!"
"To the Titans!"
"To the Titans!!!!"
Chuckles.
Giggles.
Laughing.
A beat.
They all shared a mutual embrace.
A conjoined breath or two later, Starfire uttered:
"Dear friends. Let us not mourn. Let us do something together!"
"Eat drink and be merry!! Hehehe! How about pizza, dudes?"
"Hooray…," Raven rolled her eyes and droned. "Titan tradition." A beat. "I can think of no better thing."
"Neither can I," Cyborg said. And with a hidden touch of sadness in his eyes, he glanced down at the crumpled letter and swiftly tossed it away when nobody was looking. He warmly wrapped his arms around the shoulders of the three Titans smaller and younger than he as he led them merrily towards the elevator and eventual camaraderie. "Neither can I….."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Inside Blake Glover's apartment.
Lonely.
Cold.
Littered with endless, schizophrenic meanderings of paper and photos and names and numbers.
The man lay in the middle of a beeping, wired bed.
He stirred and he stirred and he moaned.
He sat up with a gasp.
A wheeze.
A cough.
He held a breathing mask over his face.
He inhaled.
He turned pale.
He inhaled some more.
And….
A touch of warmth crept over his dying body once again.
He let out a shuddering sigh.
"…….."
He took the mask off.
He blinked…dizzily almost at first….but then with building strength.
With shaking hands, he reached for the wires in his arms.
He pulled them out of the plastic sheathes stuck in his skin.
Snapping, one by one.
He lowered a metal rung of the bed.
Wincing…exerting much strength into so much nothingness…he uncovered himself and swung his legs out and off the bed.
He paused for breath.
Hunched over.
"……."
He slowly….slowly lowered himself to the floor.
Bare foot.
It made him shiver from the cold touch of the surface to skin.
And yet…
He straightened his hospital gown.
And he shuffled forward.
Forward…forward….
To his desk.
He reached a shaking hand out.
He grabbed a sheet of paper.
He held it in his hand.
Reading the words.
Pacing around the apartment.
Pacing.
Pacing.
Because something was still bothering him.
One piece of his research unanswered.
That he couldn't tell the wielder of Black balance.
The one thing withholding his manifest destiny.
His final purpose.
"'In order for the sky to turn red….'"
He paced.
He wheezed.
He read.
"'…The earth must bleed'."
He walked towards the window, coldly shuffling.
Suffering.
Reading….
"'By his breath they freeze, by his breath they die'…."
He came to a stop.
Bowing before his reflection.
Oblivious to the star-studded night beyond the glass.
"'Smoke and mirrors is what keeps him alive'….."
A wheezing breath.
A slight pause.
He looked up from the paper.
Out through the window.
Onto the Black world.
"'Smoke and mirrors….is what keeps him alive….'"
There was something in Blake Glover's dying pale eyes.
A touch of flame.
A red flicker.
And his optics widened.
At the same time, his pupils narrated.
For he saw.
He saw…..
High on the rooftops.
Across buildings.
Underneath and beyond shadows.
Barely visible in the silhouetting starlight.
The shadowy figure.
The tall, shadowy figure.
Its head like a skull.
Two tails dancing behind the neck in the wind.
Body thin.
Legs firm.
And a red glare.
FLASH!!!
Glover gasped.
The red dot of a sniper rifle's targeting system stabbed into his eyes.
His whole entire body went numb in a crimson burst.
And the meaty walls inside his head melted away. Life and Death surged together and revealed the Dark, Black Whole it had always been. A revelation that took half of his breath away and introduced the saving cold of eternity. Carried on the wings of a thundering sound….like joyful laughter and agonized mourning all at once….the queer sensation like that of one hand clapping.
The red dot wandered up to the middle of his forehead.
And the journalist chirped.
"The terminator…"
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
The City skyline.
Under the veil of night.
Dark, ghostly.
Few lights and little movement.
Just towers rising into a dead, dead silence.
Silence….
…..
BANG!!!!!
The briefest of thunders echoed across the structures.
A disturbed flock of sleeping pigeons flapped up into the moonlight and disappeared into the sky.
Like spectres lost in a bleeding bird cage.
There and gone again.
Deflating.
Silent.