218. A Hard Act to Follow part 3

"Word is on the street that the two maidens of malevolence are no longer working by their pretty little selves…," the Penguin sweatily uttered. He dabbed his forehead with a rag while sitting in the November chill of his open office window to cool off. "What exactly they are 'working' on remains a mystery that even my most feathery of friends cannot elicit an ear from in this gothic battleground of ours….."

I eyed him warily, sharpening Myrkblade from where I sat in the corner perched atop a filing cabinet. I kept in the shadows, my shades hardly a glint of the lamplight on the far side of the room.

I had to maintain my menace….

"But I certainly know that there is quite a few fellow miscreants on their side," Mr. Cobblepot leaned back and sighed. Still sweating. The thighs of his pants hilariously shredded. "Whether or not they purposefully led this tense troupe also remains to be seen. But quite obviously, the malicious Bane from the south was their first 'recruit'. Word has it that the Clock King and the Mad Hatter have recently joined some hidden alliance, and there is no doubt in my mind that the ladies' club is inherently same establishment entertwined with those two posh fledglings'! Bah!"

I leaned my head to the side. I pointed with Myrkblade towards the bottom 'floor' of the Iceberg Lounge and then motioned with my head for emphasis.

"Hrmmm?" Penguin blinked beadily at me. "My business? Wree! What business of yours is this business of mine?"

CHIIIING! Myrkblade formed sparks along the edge of the filing cabinet.

Penguin wobbled in his seat. "Um…Um…Um…Um….N-N-Not that I have a problem sharing with you—of course—my good fowl. Ahem. Things have been drier than a month's old sack of bird seed here. There is plenty for the pecking, but the flocks have all gone south for the winter. There's a bird-catcher in our rye, Mr. Swordsman. I don't see how anyone on either side of the dramatic fence could not be aware of it…."

"…..," I leaned my head to the side. Black eyes thin.

"Why….," he leaned his balding head forward some and hushedly said: "I'm speaking of the Parasite, of course! Now there's a name just about as big as Triangular and Dagger and other pish-posh! I'm not one for conspiracies, Titan. I'm thoroughly convinced that it was a celestially divine aneurysm that exploded John F. Kennedy's head and an upstart ostrich that buried Jimmy Hoffa. If you needed information on the inner tickings of some criminal underground apocalypse, I'm not the one to tell you of it. I don't have my talons dug quite as deep as they used to be. If there's anyone here who is in the know, it certainly isn't me. You've sensed this Parasite, haven't you, boy? Why else would you be here?"

I took a deep breath. My metal limb shivered once. I ignored it and kept my gaze fixed on him. I put Myrkblade down and gestured two 'pointy ears' atop my head of hair.

"Batman?" Penguin blinked. "Heh! Heavens be for the swallow! I haven't seen the likes of that caped canary of obsidian for nearly a month now! And normally I would be counting my golden feathers for joy, but there comes a time when a…ahem….dignified businessman such as myself comes to find a greater of evils at hand." He adjusted his monocle and looked serious as he said: "This Parasite, Titan…..this red reaper of mystery and ill ilk….he has been causing quite a fatal stir among the trees and nests of Gotham. The grimy streets are no longer safe for the robbers as well as the robbed. Dare I say…it would almost seem like there's no need of Batman these days whatsoever! And the same goes for that former Boy Wonder Nightwing and the ever-trivial Batgirl! Someone or something has been making Night a panicky purgatory for anyone with the gizzard to raise a pistol! And this isn't something out of pure vengeance or some madcap pursuit of justice, my boy. No…this is a monster. A predator and a prowler and a pestilence incarnate! Something swift, something cold, something that smokes red ash and breathes upon its victims something that makes them shriek 'red!', 'Red!', 'RED!' before they die. Quite the tale to tell over a flickering fire out in the country, I do say…."

I took a deep breath. Lips firm. Limbs numb…

Tell me something I don't know……

"Calendar Girl….Lock-Up….Boxy Bennet…Baby Doll…," the Penguin counted his petite fingers. "Even a few associates of the Royal Flush Gang. They've all died quite horribly and—might I add—quite secretly in the last few weeks. But they were merely detritus of the grand mess of things. They were either young or foolish. Maybe both. One by one, they were consumed by the reaper of Gotham's transformed streets. And the fiends of higher order caught wind of the bloody feathers flying. And now you have sides being taken. Triangular….and this troupe of which Pamela Isley and Harley Quinzelle partake. All I know of Triangular is a certain Two-Face. The rest of the Gotham City seems up for grabs when it comes to an opposing side. But…like all flightless birds….I could very well be falling short."

"……..," I jumped down from the filing cabinet. Myrkblade in hand, I marched over towards the seated bird-man and glared down at him.

"Wree! What?" He clenched his fists and frowned up at me. "You want more information? I'm a dry sponge now, Titan. There is nothing left to squeeze from me…….." He then rubbed his chin in thought. "Although……"

I raised an eyebrow.

"In speculating on where exactly in this quaint cove the new 'troupe' may be nesting…," Cobblepot murmured, "….I can't help but envision somewhere low to the ground yet built for the skies. Some place hollow enough for any strenuous, interior devil-plotting….but at the same time a veritable fortress against any and all red streaming invaders from outside."

"……..," I gritted my teeth.

Who named you the Riddler?

"I'm speaking of the abandoned Gotham International Airport, of course….," Penguin turned up his pointy nose. "It's a lost classier than that new posh 'Powers International' that has been build north of town. Bah! But who am I to judge old winds and old wings? Ahem. Gotham International Airport is a graveyard for old ghosts of flight. But in the last few months, it's circulated in the mouths of the underworld as a dreamlike spot for a headquarters. With so many new factions picking sides in this dark domain of ours, I wouldn't doubt it if you found something of interest there. Assuming the Batman doesn't beat you to it. Heh. I thought I'd never hear myself say this, but God rest his leather-beat soul. Constant disappearance and a dead songbird from your Town has got to weigh heavily on his pointy head!"

GRIP!

A metal hand around his neck.

He wheezed: "Erm….r-right. I shall make no mention of the deceased Robin. There's a g-good boy….."

"…….," I released him. I swiveled around. I marched out of his office and through the door.

He exhaled long and hard as he leaned back in his chair. "You're quite welcome….."

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

I walked along a lengthy, ornamental hallway upstairs in the Iceberg Lounge. There was a door with a 'porthole' window at the far end ahead of me, gradually leading me to an exit. But as I walked, I kept my black, shaded eyes towards the floor. I took a deep breath and let my mind wander.

"I can't help but envision somewhere low to the ground yet built for the skies," the Penguin had said. "Some place hollow enough for any strenuous, interior devil-plotting….but at the same time a veritable fortress against any and all red streaming invaders from outside."

My optics narrowed darkly at the carpet.

Harley, Ivy, and Bane have a fortress built………in a flight control tower? A hangar? A run-aground aircraft carrier?

I ran a metal hand through my black hair and sighed as I dragged Myrkblade.

Whatever happened to good, old fashioned warehouses?

"………"

I wonder what Speedy is up to at this moment.

I couldn't help but smirk.

I reached the door….

I looked up. I gazed through the porthole. I came to a sudden stop, gasping wide. I immediately jerked my body up against the wall and cloaked invisible….FWOOSH!

THWUMP! The door was kicked open. Hissing beneath his breath, a disgruntled Killer Croc stepped into the hallway and marched oppositely in the direction from whence I came:

Mr. Cobblepot's office.

The porthole door swung back in place, and there I stood invisibly. Pressed flat against the wall. Panting….numb….

"………."

I gulped.

I glanced down the hallway at the back of the pale, shirtless monstrosity. The first I had seen of him since Vegas…..

What in God's name is he doing here?

I blinked.

Well, granted, this IS Gotham City……but……

I clenched my jaw.

I've got more than Red Aviary and Batman to beat to the punch. Triangular's undoubtedly doubled now that they've been harassed by Harley and Ivy and also witnessed me in town.

I slowly shuffled over to the door and prepared to teleport under and through it.

As I started to hear the first of a new set of scuffles emanating from Cobblepot's office, I glanced back and smiled with a bead of sweat.

See you later……

FWOOOSH!

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

SWOOSH…THWUMP!

Penguin grunted as he was shoved up against a wall.

Killer Croc gripped his shoulders and snarled, his glistening teeth in the bird-man's face.

"Hressssssh….for the last time, TALK!"

"And for the last time, you rambunctious reptile!" Penguin hissed back. "I've given all the information I care to give for tonight!"

"Why you little….," Killer Croc snarled and raised a serrated hand. "Want me to rip that gizzard out from under your fat chins?"

"Save your breath…I am quite thoroughly over it tonight!" Penguin said. He made a show of adjusting his torn pants and shoved Croc's arms off of his suit. "The late bird does not get the worm here, my friend. Or in this case…the late lizard."

"What?" Killer Croc dumbly blinked. "Look, dodo bird…"

"Watch it."

"I just came from a rather head-split Two-Face angry because you didn't think to tip us or Mr. Trent at Gothe Nightclub about a certain bunch of bitches and their Bane on a leash making things tough for the big boys! Now you're holding out on us and I want to find out why, Cobblepunk!"

"And I'm telling you! You're late! Someone beat you to the punch!"

"Now who in the world could….?" Killer Croc froze. His reptilian eyes narrowed as he saw something. He walked over to the filing cabinet and ran his finger along the scratch marks.

Penguin winced and held two hands up. "Now don't be too hasty, Mr. J-Jones…."

"RrrrrgHHRESSSHAAA!" Killer Croc picked the filing cabinet up and launched it out of the nearby window. CRASH!

"My Penthouse!" Penguin ran to the window.

THWAP!

Croc bitch-slapped the waddling man across the room before shaking his angry fists to the ceiling. "NOIRRRRRR! YOU'RE NOT WELCOME IN GOTHAM! I'm gonna RIP YOUR FILTHY PIG HEAD OFF! You HEAR ME?"

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"DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU SMOKING RUNT? YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR MAKING ME LOOK BAD IN VEGAS!"

I perched on a buildingtop across the street.

In the cold wind, I turned and gazed at the brightly-lit Iceberg Lounge.

"………….."

I smiled.

I saluted, sheathed Myrkblade…CHIIIING!….and dashed off westward.

Towards the abandoned airport….

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

November 28, 2004

Titan's Tower

8:37 am

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

Raven drifted into the Main Room and was again graced with the endless squabbling of the Metropolis News Report. Wearing a blue sweater and jeans, the dark girl headed towards the kitchen unit and prepared herself some morning tea. She glanced over yet again at the t.v. set.

A tired looking Beast Boy squatted on the couch.

"……..," Raven blinked while stirring a small mug. "You're still watching the news?"

"Why not?" Beast Boy murmured. "It's not like there's anything else I can do…."

Raven sipped from her mug and paced across the Main Room. "You could always go out on patrol. Cyborg's meeting with Lieutenant Smith right now as we speak. There might be a new problem to solve in the City."

"Like what?" Beast Boy asked tiredly. "There isn't anything that happens in this City anymore. Nothing serious. Besides the Buzzard Gang, it's like the storm came and left. Some cruel joke that stole Robin away. Unless Smith needs help dragging a cat out of a tree, I don't see what this place needs the Titans for anymore."

"Gee….your words are soooo awe-inspiring," Raven droned as she padded over to a window and gazed out at the cold Bay while sipping. "Try to be anymore cheerful and I might be inclined to bash my head with a baseball bat."

Beast Boy frowned at her. "In case you haven't noticed, Raven…," he gestured towards the screen. "Our former teammates are going to Hell in a handbasket! Helicopter footage shows Garth's body lying around all beat-up. And Noir's wreaking havoc across Metropolis! So forgive me if I'm not as cheery as I used to be. Heh….funny how the only constant in this Tower is your sarcasm!"

"…………," Raven slowly glanced over at Beast Boy. It wasn't a contemptuous gaze. But rather, deadpan. "Have you considered actually going north to run into Noir, then?"

He folded his arms and frowned at the t.v. "More sarcasm?" he muttered.

"Not this time."

"…………..," he looked over at her. Sadly. "My leaving would be what you want, isn't it? It's what you and Cyborg would want?"

Raven's lips parted some. She leaned her head to the side: "What do you mean….?"

"You two want all of the Titans gone until it's just you two in the Tower…all private and stuff….to have your happy romance all to your cold, reclusive selves and let the rest of the world rot."

"That's not what Cyborg and I want and you know it," Raven said bluntly.

Beast Boy ran a hand over his face. He sighed and took a while to utter: "I'm s-sorry, Raven. When you and Cyborg first got together….I-I was happy. I truly was. We've all been through a lot, and it'd only help us to….t-to find ways to get all the more close to each other. And I knew that you with your emotions actually needed someone whether you wanted to admit it or not. So when Cyborg stepped up to the plate, I was happy. I still am….but…." He gazed at Raven sideways. Green eyes soft. "I miss the old you, Raven."

"The old 'me'?"

"The part that….th-that wasn't afraid to say what was on her mind. Unemotional…though a bit cold. You could always be depended upon as an honest observer. Quiet. Independent. Mature…."

Raven took a deep breath, steadied her cup of tea, and asked: "What am I now…Beast Boy?"

He bit his lip and looked off before admitting: "You're still quiet….still unemotional, for the most part. But….not quite so inedependent. And…..And sometimes I think…."

"Yes?"

"…….th-that you've been hiding behind Cyborg as of late…."

"……"

"I-I don't know what he's promised you, Raven. And…heh…I bet it's none of my business. But, it hurts, Raven. Because I know that I'm right about a few things. And don't tell me I'm being self-absorbed. I know that….that I'm right about needing to go find Terra. And I know that I'm right about this City no longer being the center of all things chaotic. And I know that both Starfire and I are right when we see this 'family' of ours slipping apart and further disintegrating. There was a time when you would so obviously see all that too, Raven. But whether you see it or not now…..you choose not to say anything about it. And Cyborg will block and block and block reality like some terrible, constipated ostrich…and you'll be hidden there beneath all his feathers. I don't know why, Raven. Maybe because it's comfortable for you. I-I know it'd be comfortable for me too. But I'm on the outside. I see Cyborg towering over the rest of us as leader and self-appointed psychobot. And….I can't stop thinking of Terra. And Garth. And Jordan. And I wonder if you really think about them too….and if you still care about them…but somehow feel obligated to pretend there's nothing going on in your blue head about it at all. Because Cyborg's not saying anything…."

"…….," Raven raised the cup of tea to her lips, but she didn't sip. She murmured: "Of course I care about them…"

Beast Boy didn't hear her. "I'm not leaving the City. Not now. Even if Garth was being beaten by a million traitors or if Noir was dropping a bomb on New York. I've realized that….with the way things have gone….there's still far too much to risk losing what's left here. Starfire. You. Cyborg. As painful and senseless as it all may be, I want to cling onto all of is. And maybe…heh….maybe like you and Cyborg….I'll learn to push the rest out of my mind."

Click

Beast Boy flipped the t.v. off.

He stood up and dropped the remote down to the couch.

Raven's lips parted. "What are you doing?"

"Cyborg's right…," Beast Boy said. "Robin should never have let us go after Terra. It was foolish and fatal to begin with." The voice coming out of his mouth was far more bitter than even Raven could coldly concoct. It was like a frosty tape recording played at slow speed. "And Tempest and Noir were being selfish when they pity-partied themselves out of this Tower and City. And look at them now…." He swiveled about and walked firmly out of the Main Room. "Good riddance…," he muttered.

Raven gazed after him. She almost said something….almost reached for him.

But as if cast in lead boots, she stayed still. And sighed.

"…………….."

Raven looked back out the window.

"……………."

Her violet eyes narrowed.

There was a figure. On a bike. In the middle of the land ridge connecting the island to the main land.

The figure drifted back and forth, a teenage girl with brown hair. She seemed hopelessly and stressfully strung inbetween two decisions….two decisions heading in two directions: to and from the Tower.

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

Lindsay fidgeted.

Clad in a sports jacket and a sweater and jeans, the freckled girl stood on her bike and looked up at the Tower. Her breath showed vaporously in the cold November winds whipping in from the Bay Waters.

She bit her lip, shook her head, and with a shudder—swiveled around to pedal back to land…

"You know…we do have a doorbell…"

"?" Lindsay looked over her shoulder.

Raven floated gently down and levitated a few feet away, her sweatered arms crossed. "Some people use it….."

"…….," Lindsay smiled crookedly. "H-Hey…," she nervously uttered.

"……..," Raven stared coolly back. "You seem…….anxious."

"You sense that?"

"Do I 'sense' that?"

Lindsay winced. "It's said that you're a telepath."

"Empath. Close enough."

"Uhm….."

"Was there something you wanted to discuss with the Titans?"

"Y-You remember me, right, Miss Raven?"

The dark girl's lips curved ever so slightly from that address. "Yes. I think you're the girl who finally got Tempest to shut up and stop moaning just days before he left."

"Huh?"

"I remember you, Ms. Rutland," Raven nodded. "Something is on your mind. And it doesn't take a telepath to see that."

"I….I-I thought I should share some things with you guys," Lindsay said.

"Well, you can share them with me."

"It's about Garth……a-about him and Noir…."

"…….," Raven blinked. "Jordan?" she remarked.

'Who?"

Raven winced. "Nevermind. What is it, exactly?"

"Well….," Lindsay ran one hand through a lock of hair over her ear lobe before showing off a few envelopes from beneath her jacket. "I've got these letters and…."

"……."

Lindsay said: "I-I-I think it's about time I started sharing what Tempest has been telling me…."

"…….," Raven nodded. "First thing's first. It's a little too cold here."

Lindsay nodded and rubbed her shoulders. "Y-Yeah…."

"Let's go somewhere a little warmer, shall we?" Raven flicked her wrist.

"Sounds nice to m-MEEEEEE!" Lindsay all but hugged her bike handles as Raven lifted the two of them up off the bridge, a hundred feet in the air, and out into the chilly November City.

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

A very familiar poetry café.

With a very familiar haze inside.

And a very familiar jazz drifting softly throughout.

Raven and Lindsay sat at opposite sides of the table. It was warm inside, so Lindsay stripped down to her sweater as she fanned out the envelopes before the dark girl and spoke:

"Tempest….has been in correspondence with me over the last week and a half. He's been writing to me. Reassuring me of…..of things," the freckled girl took a deep breath and gazed at Raven. "Letting me know he's alright."

"Might I say…," Raven blinked. "You don't look entirely pacified…"

"It's a little…. events as of late," Lindsay said. "I mean, what this City has been through. What you Titans have been through. And now…the crazy stuff going on in Metropolis and whatnot……"

"………"

"Ms. Raven, I do not believe you should distrust your friend Noir. Even in spite of all the bad things he's supposedly done. I trust Tempest…and Tempest has written me that—although he's depressed over the way things have gone—he still trusts Noir. He trusts Noir, because the two of them fought alongside to uncover some sort of conspiracy. Something….involving Lexcorp…and Metallo…."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "Metallo?"

"Tempest says that he was meaning to work with Noir all along. That the two were bound to meet up and fight alongside each other even long before Noir saw to the resurrection out west…."

Raven leaned forward. "Excuse me….what was that?"

Lindsay blinked. "Hmm?"

"'Resurrection'? What Resurrection?"

"You mean, the Titans don't know?"

"……."

Lindsay cleared her throat. "Garth says that he saw Noir shortly after he came back from Las Vegas…"

"I know that Noir was in Vegas…," Raven nodded.

Lindsay continued: "….after successfully rescuing the girl from stone."

There was something like a harp cord being struck in Raven's head. Her lips parted and a breath escaped her. "He….He did it……"

"R-Raven?"

The dark girl blinked. He violet eyes gazed off towards the hazy corners of the jazz club. "Jordan did it. Someway. Somehow………..he got Terra loose….."

"Terra? You m-mean the traitor?"

"…..," Raven glanced firmly at Lindsay. "Terra the Titan."

Lindsay winced. "I-I'm sorry…"

"N-No….it's okay…," Raven lifted a hand as her violet eyes drifted through the table. "It's just……….whoah……..that's unbelievable…."

"The way Garth made it sound in his letter, it sounded like something really important to the Titans. Yet at the same time, I think he felt a little distant about it all. He's really doubtful and lost, Raven. He feels lonely in Metropolis. Twice as lonely with being banished from the sea and all……I worry about him…."

"……….."

"R-Raven?"

Raven snapped out of it. "Did he say where Noir took Terra?"

Lindsay seemed a bit taken back. She blinked and uttered: "Oh….um. No. Apparently, Noir was very….very secretive about that."

"………."

"Garth mentioned something that Noir rambled on about. Some sort of 'spirit of Death' chasing after him and Terra too. An all encompassing….scary Destruction entity…."

"Destruction….entity…..," Raven murmured.

Lindsay opened up an envelope, spilled out a letter, and pointed at two words in Atlantean font.

'Red Aviary'.

Raven bit her lip. There was something in her body. Like a pausing of her heart's ventricles. A momentary jolt to the senses that were not so much in recoil as they were sinking. Sinking into some sudden abyss.

And it reminded her something….or some things.

The Messenger's lecture on Triangular.

Viper's homicidal ramblings.

Noir sitting in a booth at Denny's long ago, shivering.

Shivering……

"……..," Raven's violet eyes narrowed on the unseen horizon. She spoke without looking to Lindsay: "Did Garth have anything to say on what Noir was going to do because of this…..Red Aviary?"

"That's where he got rather secretive…," Lindsay sighed and slunk back in her chair. "It's wyrd, ya know? I mean…he'll share so much in his letters to me about the stuff he's dealing with up to a point. And then he sorta….digresses. As if he's afraid that telling me too much might either….endanger me or make me seriously scared for him. And…well…I-I am scared for him. I wish he wouldn't throw himself into isolation. I heard that he's banished from the Oceans. That must be so terrible. And to keep himself from….well…his friends! His teammates! I mean….why does he have to be off in Metropolis anyways? Doesn't he know that he's welcome in the Titan's Tower!"

"Yeah…..," Raven murmured. Her eyes trailing. "He should be……."

Lindsay's eyes narrowed. "Raven?"

"Cyborg….," the dark girl whispered breathily to herself. "There's a lot bigger things than we can imagine…."

"Raven?"

She looked at Lindsay again.

The freckled teen said: "That's about the third time you've blacked out on me. I-I'm sorry…am I telling you all of this at a bad time? With the way things have been, I know it must be hard…."

"I've dealt with pain and crises all throughout my life, Miss Rutland," Raven gently said. "I should be well equipped to handle anything now." And yet, she gulped. "I thank you for sharing what you have with me, I really do. A lot of it I've heard before. Some of it, I haven't. Either way, it's all very helpful. And….I-I'll be sure to process the information the best I can. For the Titans. And for Garth."

Lindsay nodded. "Th-Thank you. That's….that's a good thing….," she bit her lips and her eyes trailed the sides of the table.

"Hey….," Raven leaned forward and placed a hand on Lindsay's wrist.

The citizen seemed rather surprised at the dark Titan's touch. Her attention was instantly grabbed.

Raven said: "You have showed great faith in Garth. And if he's in Metropolis, I don't truly think he's alone. I believe he's in good hands. Undoubtedly, the Justice League is looking after him…."

Lindsay nervously said: "G-Garth wrote that the Justice League is falling apart."

"………"

The teen shuttered: "There's s-so much depressing things going on all at once across this nation. I do not think it's a coincidence. If I didn't know better, I'd say the Adversary was trying to ruin the spirit of good and righteousness by offsetting the spiritual balance."

"I can vie for the 'imbalance' part…," Raven said as she stood up. "But regardless, Tempest is a very adaptable, strong person. I'm sure you don't need to worry about him."

Lindsay managed a soft smile. "I know…..he's been in my prayers since day one."

"Prayers?"

"Mmmhmm," Lindsay nodded.

"Well…I'm sorry, but, I think I need to go," Raven spoke. "I need to look into something…"

As the dark girl spun around…

Lindsay stood up and pensively added: "Y-You've been in my prayers too, Raven…."

Raven stopped beyond the table. "……"

"All of th-the Titans, for that matter….."

Raven sighed. She glanced over her shoulder slightly and said: "I hope that means something for all of us…" And she walked off.

Lindsay hugged herself and shared a lonely curve of the lips. "Soon enough, I know it will….."

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

As Raven passed through the Titans' garage upon entering the tower, she saw Cyborg hunched over half a shell of what would eventually be the 'T-Car 2'. Welding sparks flashed from Cyborg's opened arm-panels, and whirring mechanical sounds filled the air as the android Titan loudly fixed together engine pieces and body plates.

Raven stopped. She stood, petite in sweater and jeans. A touch of the November cold dwindled on her blue bangs and shoulders. She gazed over at Cyborg's back as he worked intently.

"………"

She shuffled over. She stood directly behind him.

He was oblivious. Between the noise and chaos of intense mechanical work, he didn't sense her looming gently behind him.

"………."

Raven reached a hand out to touch his shoulder…..paused……paused some more……sighed, swiveled, and walked out of the garage………

"Something on your mind, Raven?" Cyborg asked.

Raven grinded to a halt. She blinked. She looked over her shoulder. "Just wanted to say……….."

"………yeah?"

"Good morning."

"………," Cyborg paused. He looked over his shoulder at her with a thin black protection visor over his eyes. He 'tapped' a button on the side of his head and retracted the visor into his brow so that his half natural eyes peaked. He smiled and cheerfully said: "Well, good morning, cutie…."

"………," Raven's lips curved somewhat.

Silence……

"Uhm….w-was there something you wanted to…."

"I'll be in my room," Raven said suddenly and padded off. "….meditating."

"……..," Cyborg sat alone. And he blinked. "Uh………okay." An awkward tilting of his head. A few seconds later, he shook it off and went back to his work. "Well allright!"

Welding. Welding. Welding.

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

When Raven entered her room, she very quickly and very firmly shut the door to her room. It was as if the weight of the world was like a giant ocean and the hallway outside had become its drain. She leaned back on the door as if to keep the pressure out and murmured breathily to herself in rapid pants which she had hidden from Cyborg….

"Red Aviary…………Red Aviary………"

Images flew through her head. Images of swordsmen and different colored eyes and dark waters and even darker horizons until it all rattled against the inner walls of her head and she couldn't shake it loose and reorganize everything anew.

"Nnnnngh…," she rubbed two fingers against her temple. Instant headache. "I must…..narrow the visions down. But how?"

Silence…..

She stopped rubbing her head. She tilted her head up. Her lips parted.

"Not how….who……"

Her breathing returned to normal. She glanced over towards the opposite end of her dark, forbidden room. She rushed over to the closet and gathered the first of many items she would need for…

An intense meditation.

"Time to get to work….."

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

November 28, 2004

Gotham City.

Abandoned Gotham International Airport.

9:32 am

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

The land slathered about the abandoned airport was brown, the buildings a rusted amber grime, and with the sunrise at an angle everything looked orange and baking. If what I was seeing was merely a snapshot photo that I was looking at from outside the glossy surface, I would have guessed the temperature of the location was somewhere within the roasting ballpark of ninety vaporous degrees Fahrenheit.

But the reality to it was much more frigid. The Gotham Air had dipped down to about fifty-five. It would be my first winter on the East Coast, and I heard it wasn't anything to look forward to.

And yet, it hadn't snowed. Not yet. Not even a single white flake. I felt like the horizons were laughing at me at all sides and refused to show a single saliva strand of it.

Which was just as well. I wanted and needed the urban landscape to be spotless for my search.

Search for what, exactly?

Terra's essences of course.

Then how come I hadn't found any yet?

This is Batman's City. I need to find him more than likely to get anywhere.

And you haven't seen Batman because……

Clark said he was covering the Gothe Nightclub. Once I figure out what's up with William B. Fox and Harley and Ivy's allies, then I might have a direction I can take on finding Batman AND figuring out what Triangular did with Terra's powers.

But is that why you are really here?

I groaned mutely.

Rgghhh……

I gripped a handful of hair from where I perched on a high fence top.

Stop asking so many questions, Ana……

Silence.

I took a deep breath of the cold air.

Of course I'm thinking about Robin……

I refocused my mind and stared across the forsaken airstrips towards the stretch of the airport beyond. Dilapidated tarmacs and crumbling flight control towers rose here and there. The buildings for loading passengers were half standing too. It seemed as if everything was hit by some terrible earthquake in recent history, which completely boggled my mind because from what the Penguin said I assumed that the airport could very well have been open 'yesterday'.

It would seem that neglected spots in Gotham City simply had a penchant for falling apart or collapsing. Who was I to judge accordingly?

And just where the Hell in all this deconstructed mess could a secret troupe of villainous entities be hiding? With Fox no less?

"Some place hollow enough for any strenuous, interior devil-plotting….but at the same time a veritable fortress against any and all red streaming invaders from outside."

It only half-surprised me that—after rethinking the Penguin's words—the solution came within seconds of scanning the horizon.

I saw it.

An elliptical, elongated dome.

Fifteen stories tall and nearly three football fields long.

A mammoth structure….certainly a wonder of the world in its glory days.

The Gotham International Zeppelin Storage Hangar.

The only thing still brilliantly immense and in tact in the whole area. I wondered if the airport itself croaked because of the money it must have taken to construct the gargantuan thing. And to what end? Sure, zeppelins and blimps were 'big' in Gotham City, but nobody needed to go that far. And then I speculated that what I was seeing presented Gotham City in its finest essence. A giant paradox of success and failure. Where the American dream met the urban nightmare, and for every great rise in aviation there was doomed a fall in architecture. The temple to the red sky had been built and fallen to the philistines. And undoubtedly I was about to go in Hebrew-prophet style and find out a few things for myself.

Pfft……

Typical.

I took a deep breath, leapt down off the fence, and blurred across the airport towards the huge building.

I wish the Titans were here. Anyone. Even if it was just Beast Boy to……slow me down.

Or something.

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

I found the horrifically tall exterior of the elliptical hangar……easy to climb.

I blurred up the side and found a metal catwalk lining the top crest of the structure. After walking along the sunlit platform, I gazed downwards at a series of intermittent trap doors until I felt inclined to inspect one of them. I yanked the structure open with a slight battle with rust and found a metal-laced crawlspace of sorts leading down into a compartment just above the inevitable cavity of the fifteen-story tall, hollow building.

I snaked down into the thin space…..the passageway lid slamming close behind me with an annoying, industrial thunder.

I winced, but shuffled on unhindered. The cold air was cut off from outside, and the claustrophobic intestines of metal felt rather insulated. Warm. But not annoyingly stuffy.

It went on for quite a length, making me wonder if it was a secret passageway or an air vent or maybe just a surprise home for crows and squirrels. I became aware of faint vibrations twitching through the thin metal surfaces. I gradually surmised them as voices. Voices….far away. But because of the voices' solitary presence in such a big, open, empty belly of metal…they shook the walls around me like pin drops at the bottom of a huge well. Perhaps it was just the sensitivity of my murking, spatial awareness. Regardless, I followed the 'voices' till I came to a grated panel. When I looked down through the grated panel, I nearly fainted. A one hundred and fifty foot drop into smooth concrete yawned beneath me. There was something blocking part of my vision of the floor. Something thick, huge, and yet…..light….

A blimp?

In a zeppelin building?

Gee……'what are the odds'?

I clenched my jaw.

But……this building's supposed to be condemned along with the rest of the Gotham International Airport.

Right?

"…….," I leaned my ear to the grate.

There were voices indeed….

But I couldn't hear them clearly.

Nor could I see whom the voices belonged to.

"………."

I sighed mutely.

The only thing you can do, Noir, is let gravity take control……

I shifted forward and positioned myself over the grate.

I tensed, expecting the panel to snap at anytime from beneath me.

I took a deep breath.

Chiiiiing!

I pulled Myrkblade.

I sat cross-legged on the grate.

I inhaled.

Meditated.

Inhaled….

Meditated…..

"…………"

And switched into smoke form.

FWOOSH!

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

I billowed down and morphed through the metal grate. A half second after, I solidified with Myrkblade jabbing upwards.

Cl-Clack!

"!" I hung on the hilt of my blade, stuck into the bottom of the shaft I had just ported out of. In so doing, I dangled suicidally over a hundred and fifty feet above the murderously solid ground below me. I gazed beyond my flailing feet and saw a lopsided interrupted by a tethered blimp taking up barely a quarter of the huge hangar's space. And beyond that, white concrete with a cluster of figures mumbling in the distance.

I dangled and dangled and quivered, hanging….

Yeah……

Real cute.

I spied the blimp. I knew it was a large airship. But tethered as it was in this relatively titanic interior, it seemed like a dwarfed insect. I didn't think anyone was in the ship. And for that matter…why would someone be in it? No doubt the blimp wasn't there for tours of the City. This huge hangar was supposed to be out of service. The presence of the vehicle then was a purely nefarious thing. A huge splash of 'Vreeland Cosmetics' stretched across the length of the airship's side provided ample cover.

Unless this is actually a nazi establishment for distributing explosive lipstick……

The voices….

The figures….

I may have been dangling like an antichristian mistletoe, but I could sense myself getting close to them. And yet, I had to keep the proprietors of this lair from seeing me.

So I swung my limbs, angled myself towards the blimp, and swiftly….

Leapt.

Swiiiish!

In mid fall, I cloaked my body and converted the lower half of my limbs to steam with great concentration. I reached the blimp. I tensed my smoking frame and morphed even more…

FWOOSH!

I all but splashed like a drop of water onto the top of the blimp. I recoiled and solidified with two feet expertly planted across the top of the floating vehicle. It took exhausting meditation—I was panting heavily—but I managed to disperse my energy into the air through Balance and prevent the entire airship from so much as wobbling.

"………."

The voices became distinct finally….

I snaked along the blimp slowly…slowly…slowly….

Head leaning…

"What will we do with him? It is quite simple! At twelve o'clock noon exactly, we shall carry Mr. Fox's brutish brat of a son five hundred feet over downtown Gotham City…directly above Thirty-First and Main to be exact…and we shall proceed with the ransom that Mr. Crane and Mr. Tetch have concocted."

"Yeah? And just how much moolah are we gonna get out of this?"

"Harley, we've gone over this. The ransom money isn't important."

"Eh? It isn't?"

"Hardly, my misguided maiden! What we desire here is an attention-getter! Something that will reach the hearts of Triangular and show that illegitimate bureaucracy of blood and bad bank checks just how weak they are! I suspect that it has been a long time since they've been bitten by the same Parasite they work hard to elude. And time is an awful thing to waste……"

"Madre de Dios, old geezers like you are far too presumptuous, Senior Fugate. Have you thought of Batman?"

"Quite so indeed! We have obsessed over that man! The caped crusader is like a coiled spring just waiting to tumble the machine of chaos into its next confounded tick. But that is hardly our concern if we keep our collective minds expertly attuned to the task at hand. I believe Mr. Tetch has the bat problem solved for our inevitable rendezvous with the belfry!"

"That right, Hatter?"

"Indeed, I suspected that there may be some foul play about the wing. So I figured that curtailing a squadron of pilots would be our thing. If the bat shows up to interrupt our quest. More than a few angry propellers will show him who's best!"

I inched my way—invisibly—to the sloping tip of the blimp. I stared down with thin black optics and saw a group of frightening icons gathered in a circle far below me.

"But I dun' get it!" Harley rubbed her head of hair. She was maskless. The clown 'face' and hat hung in a pocket of her tights. Dual blonde ponytails glistened in frazzled madness for all to see above a pair of crystal blue eyes. "Wouldn't ransom money help us? I mean this is a nice roof over our heads and all, but wouldn't it be a little…..mmmm….I dunno…." She smiled. "Splendid…..if we took it upon ourselves to do some shopping?"

"For what this time, Harley?" a bored Poison Ivy sat on a pile of mortar shells and gestured with a pixie hand. "Polka-dotted thongs?"

"No! I'd never think of such a thing!" Harley folded her arms and turned up her nose. "More along the lines of C4 frisbees!"

"We don't have time to blow up the poodles in Gotham Park…."

"But they were laughing at my babies! And my babies were born to laugh at! Not be laughed at!"

Bane sighed and mumbled with a hand over his mask: "Esto es absurdo…"

"Eh?" Harley glanced over.

The South American mercenary gestured: "This is a non-negotiable ransom we're pulling. But we're going to make it look like we want money, when really all we want right now is to stick it to those sangre-sucking idiotas in Triangular. Now the Mad Hatter has gone through a lot of trouble to mind control a special squadron of the Metropolitan Police Air Unit to keep things in check around downtown when we drop the Fox. If Dagger or Dent so much as try to bring the Blimp down….or if the Batman shows up his cabeza fea, NNNGH!" SMASH! He kicked a metal beam loose along the wall of the structure so that strings of steel peeled off like a wet noodle. "Muerte por el puño de acero…"

"…….," Harley blinked. "Oh." A pause. She looked over. "And just what message are we givin' Triangle? That Lucius Fox's baby boy explodes on contact?"

The Clock King walked into view. "Triangular—I'm persuaded—is getting too big for its plebeian britches!" He adjusted glasses with minute and hour hands on them and gazed his old face at the others while speaking with his upstart, twangy voice: "All huge empires must wind down, including them. It is up to us to show them how incredibly fragile they are." He gazed Bane's way. "The three of you did a find job making a mess of their deplorable dance hall, though it troubles me to realize the elusive weapons cache has vanished."

"It has not vanished…," Bane gritted his masked teeth and glared over with hidden, red eyes at the frail-sized man. "Dent has simply moved it. The split-headed cerdo is playing games with us. I honestly don't know why we didn't kill him when we had the chance."

"Because it's foolish to exterminate the three major players of Triangular, remember?" Ivy gestured. "Luthor, Dagger, Harvey….they must all live. Eliminating one of them might forever hide from us the true whereabouts and potential threats of the Parasite."

"Heh….Harvey….," Bane gazed seethingly at Ivy. "You speak of him as su amor, chica. That does not settle right with me."

Ivy frowned. "I am very much over Two-Face, Bane." Fl-Flik! She aimed a poisoned-laced arrow at him from her crossbow. "And I'll be over your dead body if you don't speak to me with some god forsaken respect!"

The Mad Hatter stepped in, smirking: "Who's making personal remarks now?"

"Everybody! Take a chill pill! Yeesh!" Harley twirled about, ponytails tossing. "Think y'all would cheer up if I started jugglin' grenades or somethin'?"

"No."

Harley winced. "Eep! Fine…can't a woman be a girl for once?"

"As much as I'm all for diabolical schemes…," Ivy laid back sexily on the rack of mortars and waved a petite arm: "…won't dropping the son of the biggest company on earth's co-CEO raise attention from more than Triangular? What will the police think of us? Lucius Fox is a rich man. He will have far more resources in this City racing after us than Triangular would…"

"I wouldn't be so sure…," Bane grumbled. "I had a long talk with Senior Nygma weeks before we all came together. The genius hombre speculated that well over ninety percent of the City was under control in some way or another by Triangular's influence."

"Ninety one percent and three-quarters, to be exact!" the Clock King indignantly clapped the tip of his minute-hand cane to the floor and uttered: "And such was before the turbulence of the Eastern Seaboard! Imagine an earthquake in reverse, ladies and gentlemen. November Fourth and Vegas were aftershocks. And the further we go back in time, the more concentrated the space of bloody events until the density of chaos is too great and everything comes to a frictional focal point! POW!"

Harley shook. "That don't sound too pretty…."

The Mad Hatter drifted over. "Ah, but all the more for our expediency! Diligent progress in place of episodic….lunacy…."

"Er….what?"

"Meaning…," the Mad Hatter tipped his hat. "We have ventured through the looking glass of distrust and found a wonderful, inverted reflection on the other side, my dearest! Ah…the many days we squandered over this City like axe-bearers! Selfish bloodmongerers! Thinking only of ourselves and not of what ourselves could become! There are more fulfilling things to do than running about all day, painting the roses red! We now must work together or…..or very soon we may all end up dead."

"Sometimes what you need is a bigger fish to make a kingdom out of the rest of the pond," the Clock King smirked.

"And this is all about some invisible death guy named the Pancreas?"

"The Parasite, Harley."

"Whatever! This is so screwy….," the blonde clown dreamily looked off towards the horizon and murmured to herself: "I wish Mr. J was here…."

Ivy groaned.

"Fear……"

Everyone looked to the shadows.

Even I craned my neck.

"Fear is what makes us strong…," said a raggedy figure who had been in the dark crevice of the hangar's support structures. He had been there the entire time, but somehow it wasn't till then that I noticed him with the other villains. His voice had a certain, vibrating iciness to it. Like a frosty breath being blown through a thin plastic tube. I shivered. "I joined this rather finite club not for its likelihood to succeed, but for its unlikelihood."

Bane frowned. "Stop being a pessimist, Crane. That's not what we inducted you for."

"Pessimist……heheheh……that's one of the cheapest insults I've taken in years……," a pale, thin hand gestured a splintery wooden staff. "I am always experimenting, dear citizens. And this is the greatest experiment of all. Because it almost……scares me……"

"Just come through with your part of the bargain and we'll be quite satisfied," the Clock King chirped.

"Fear not………Fear not indeed," a pale hand pointed. "Once Triangular's arena has been located, my newest gases will render the bureaucratic infrastructure shattered and useless. Dent's side of the balance will crumble. This lovely 'Terrible Troupe' of yours will stroke its own death."

"Yeah, whatever," Harley looked at the others, smiling. "Who's for pizza?"

Bane ignored her. "Crane….how were you able to increase your stockpile so?"

"Why……Mr. Langstrom, of course…," the pale hand from the shadows pointed across the hangar.

My black eyes followed the finger.

"He was……gracious to share some of his chemicals. And in the meantime, he seems to be suffering a bit of relapse in his condition?"

"Condition?" Ivy blinked. Then she slowly smiled: "Oh….I get it."

"He may be useful to us during our beginning operations……"

At this point, I was swiftly sliding down the blind side of the blimp. When I reached open air, I jumped down and softened my landing with a cushion of murk. I fought to maintain my cloak…and eventually succeeded. Sweating, I paced over to the utility closet far away from the villainous discussion and worked on tweaking the lock chained to the door.

I was rather too preoccupied to hear:

"……but remember, it takes fear—adrenaline—to activate his……true self……"

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

The City.

Titan's Tower.

Raven's Room.

9:55 am.

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

Raven lit the ring of candles sitting around her on her bedroom floor.

She set fire to a stick of incense, leaning out of the pouring lids of containers full of Azarathian, magical concoctions.

A glittering sense of mana filled the air. Like a spirit charge. Something fresher than the cleanest autumn breeze. It was chilling, but not as low temperatures go. But rather….low density of chaos. Distractions. Elements of the world…and self.

Raven sat down, dressed in her traditional black leotard and blue robe. She crossed her legs and held her hands together before her chest.

Eyes closed.

Deep inhale.

Gentle exhale….

Deep inhale.

Gentle exhale…….

"…….."

She opened her violet eyes.

"……"

She reached a hand forward. Forward to an object hidden under a shroud….

She pulled the cloth off, revealing a picture frame. A painting of a girl. Blonde. Angelic. Green pants and yellow vest. A white wooden blade in her grasp.

"…….," Raven wrapped her hood over her charka-embedded crown and closed her eyes with finality. She rested her hands on either side of her knees, fingers touching meditatively.

And….

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos……..Azarath Metrion Zinthos………Azarath Metrion Zinthos….."

The heat from the candles and the smell of the incense mixed in the center. Her center. The universe's center. Blending and spiraling and blackening….

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos………Azarath Metrion Zinthos………Azarath Metrion……"

A jolt.

"………."

Raven opened her eyes.

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

She flies over a landscape.

A gray and indistinguishable landscape.

The clouds are thick and the seas are cold.

But everything blends.

And then everything fades.

And the Tower looms into view.

Cyborg is working on the T-Car 2.

Starfire is gardening outside in the cool morning air.

Beast Boy lies on his back in bed, gazing ceiling-ward and thinking.

Raven stretches her hands out.

The world freezes.

The Tower.

The Bay.

The City.

The girl tenses her grip.

Violet eyes pulse a hot, glowing gray.

The world implodes in on itself, only to reveal more worlds identical to the previous ones warbling on the outside.

Like reversing the splashes of a stream of water drops, Raven goes backwards in time.

She sees tears flying back up into the ducts of friends, Titans, citizens.

She sees Tempest and the Titan swordsman run away.

She sees Robin's monument in the City Cemetery morph back into a solid block of granite.

Burning holes in the City patch up by magic and……

Steaming screams fly into Robin's mouth as he's evaporated in the flames.

Raven grits her teeth and jerks an arm out.

Everything freezes.

She struggles. She strains….

She rips the exploding carbonite of the radioactive depository out from the rest of the universe.

She sets Robin's death aside in a black-magic bubble.

She takes a breath and plunges back in.

Everything reversing.

Commissioner Decker's entrails flying back into his gut right before the flames disappear and his car transforms into a solid thing.

Viper's ragdoll body flies back up the huge river dam.

Jinx runs backwards into prison and the Omega Wing fixes itself.

Raven takes a deep breath.

She plunges faster…farther……deeper……

Mortuana disappears and appears and shrinks into whiteness like a momentary puff of smoke.

Tula comes to life in Aqualad's arms. The two kiss. The two part. And Chasma starts plotting evil…

Mad Mod appears and disappears in a blink, followed by a lopsided masquerade under the dangling feet of the Puppet King.

Then……a car ride.

Buzzing countryside.

California.

Kansas.

North Carolina.

Virginia……

Raven winces, slows, and breathes heavily.

She drifts by the Atlantic at a slow pace momentarily.

A boardwalk.

Two shadows over the water.

A single voice.

"……………"

Raven takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and pushes the scene away.

She propels herself further into the past.

Back to the Tower.

Late, midnight conversations with Robin and Cyborg.

Beast Boy crying and Starfire confused.

Slade's face.

Wyldecarde flipping about and striking each Titan in turn at a construction site.

Raven grips everything to a halt again.

She pulls herself forward.

Wyldecarde resumes striking the Titans.

Slade's face again.

Beast Boy and Starfire.

Jinx.

Frigate.

SLIIIIIINK!

"!" Raven freezes it.

Slade is impaled on the sword of the one-armed Noir.

Blood dripping out of his mask.

Silhouetted like a skeleton against the front, circular window of moonlight.

A shiver………

Cold.

Like a breath.

Raven rips the scene out.

She places it in another black capsule besides Robin's fiery death.

She flexes her fingers.

Grips everything hard…

And practically flings it back.

FW-FW-FW-FWIP!

She plunges head first into chaos.

Time shrinks and space expands.

Snapshots growing smaller and smaller and smaller……

Blur……Blur……Blur……Blur……RED!

She digs her talons in.

She grabs an anchor.

She climbs her way into a single photogenic pore.

And splashes into the Vreeland fairgrounds.

Where a disguised Mumbo Jumbo is taking a photo of all the Titans while Sandy looks on.

Raven stands in front of the rest of her teammembers, bored and disgruntled.

And just as the inevitable snapshot of the magic camera rips her personalities apart and flings them among the rest of the troupe……

FLASH!

Raven freezes it.

She walks over.

She stands before the long haired swordsman.

She tilts her head up.

Gazes at him.

"………"

She reaches two petite hands up.

She grips his shades.

She gently slides them off.

Two bulbous black eyes are exposed to the twinkling-still night.

Obsidian optics exposed to her soul upon the point of magical contact.

When everything dark and cold blended.

Raven shakily reaches her hands up.

She opens his black eyes wider.

She pulls it into a portal.

And she drifts on through.

FWOOOOOSH!

Blurring Westward.

Across the Country.

Images burn by her.

Some recognizable.

Like the wrought-iron cage holding the four-eyed Rage at bay.

Or the antlered shadow lingering on the bloody steps where her mother's corpse rested.

More or less.

Raven shudders and ignores it.

She peers out from her soul self and into his.

And soon the blurring mountainsides turn into sweeping tall grass.

As a field stretches open beneath a raincloud sky.

Bordered by cedar trees and oriental buildings in the distance.

And there is where she finds the blonde angel first.

She sees Raven immediately—of course—and waves.

And a short-dark-haired boy with brown eyes practices with his sword beside her, smiling. Giggling about something.

And beside them, a boy with wavy black hair and hazel eyes. Thin…almost frail. Concentrated on the field and the invisible spectrum beyond.

The spectrum……

Raven stands in the tall grass.

Panting.

She stretches her aching arms out.

Grits her teeth.

Struggles as her fingernails feel like splitting beneath her digits……

"Nnnngh……Nnnnghhh!"

She successfully tears the sky open, and there stretches light.

Blinding light.

In bands……layers.

Spectrum.

White, black, red.

And the whole world unnaturally teeters right.

And rolls Raven into the red.

She slaps against it.

Splashing crimson puddles.

She freezes and burns at once.

She pants heavily and presses one hand into the scarlet puddle.

She feels her hand starting to decay with each second marinating in the crimson quaff.

She can't waste any time……

She pivots around.

She gnashes her teeth.

She points one hand at the young swordsmen in the field.

FL-FLASH!

Then she drags a stream of black magic over to the two bubbles.

Slade's death.

FLASH!

Robin's death.

FLASH!

She connects them all as with a long lash and shudders, growling at the puddle of red eating her alive…

"Red Aviary……"

The world shivers.

Like a cold wave through metal joints.

She can almost feel it in her left arm.

For some reason……

"Red Aviary…………"

More rumbling.

More shaking.

Raven hisses: "Show yourself. It is time you stopped hiding, you coward!"

Mist in the air.

Red mist.

The swordsman in the field flicker.

Slade twitches.

Robin melts.

"You've haunted this land and my friends long enough! Now I order you to SHOW YOURSELF!"

RUMMMMMBLE!

The bubbles start to shake and crack.

The black streams holding everything together grow taut and pull at each other.

A tension fills the air like an opera singer's voice to a wine glass.

"By the powers invested in me of the will of Azar! OBEY!"

FLLLLLAAAAAASSSSSSH!

The bubbles shatter.

The grass blows away.

Two out of three of the swordsman fade while Robin collides with Slade and twirl into a spiral.

Raven watches, panting.

Suddenly powerless.

The swordsman who survives is the hazel – eyed adept. The scrawny skeleton of passion. He twirls into the abyss where Robin screams and Slade dies and somewhere from deep beyond like a Balrog crawling up the navel of the earth is a deep, fluctuating red……Red……RED!

FWOOOOSH!

Raven gasps.

She stands shaking between two billowing, flaming eyes of scarlet.

Dripping crimson.

Maroon vapors.

A coldness. A smoke. Red smoke. Reflecting against itself like a hall of mirrors.

The eyes fly closer and closer to Raven until one of them disappears all together and only the left eye encompasses her vision as deep beyond Slade shatters apart and Robin screams his last scream and all the ashes and all the lava and all the embers of a two-legged hell come rushing out of the woodwork, swinging a two-edged sword into the nape of Raven's neck.

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

Cyborg walked through the hallway of the Titan's Tower. He had gone up to his lab to retrieve a car construction manual before retuning to the garage down below. He was a little behind on putting together alternators, and he thought a little bit of last-minute homework would do the trick.

He whistled as he paced his way down the hallway……

Past Raven's room.

"………………….."

"………………………………RRRRREDDDDD AVIARRRRRRYYYYYY!"

Cyborg gasped.

That voice……

He dropped the book and spun towards the door. "Raven?"

He ran to it. He tried to pry it open. "Nnngh!" He could hear her voice desperately heaving form the other side. "RAVEN! Hold on, girl!"

He jumped back, gritted his teeth, and rammed the door with all his might. "YAAAUGH!"

CL-CLANG!

Red smoke blew out against his face as all the candles in the cold ring were snuffed out at once.

He barely flinched. He panted and gazed in.

There Raven was, writhing as if possessed in her kneeling position. She gurgled, her neck twisting.

"RAE!" Cyborg ran over, knelt by her side, and cradled her. "Raven! Snap out of it! You hear me? Snap out of it!"

"Mmmmf…..," Raven cringed all over. "……." Her violet eyes snapped wide. She ran a hand to her throat, shaking. There was…blood on her throat. Blood leaking out in the shape of an 'X'. As if an invisible fingernail from beyond was trying to carve her a hauntingly familiar scar…."

"Raven…..," Cyborg murmured. "What in God's name were you doing in here?"

But her eyes are wide as she visually traces the last of her trance…

And sees him….

"Great Azar…..," Raven gasped.

"What, Raven? What is it?"

She gulped. She shook all over and clung to Cyborg. "He's alive, Cyborg…."

"……….?"

"H-H-He's alive!"

"Who is, Raven?" the android Titan asked.

She would have answered, but she fainted in his strong arms instead.

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

Gotham City

Abandoned International Airport

Zeppelin Hangar

10:05 am

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

Creeeeak!

I slowly, stealthily pushed open the door to the utility closet.

As soon as I did so, I heard a voice.

A very….awake and annoyingly energetic voice.

Fox……

"And so that's when I told him, 'Being rich is not about giving! It's about getting! And donating to the Saudis once in a while! HA!'"

In the shadows, a weak….nervous voice replied: "You're a horrible….horrible human being."

"God, I hope so."

"Why d-did these creeps ever kidnap you?"

"I dunno. Must be a white thing…OH! Hey! Lookie here!" Fox's shadow nodded towards me.

I held a finger over my lips. "Shhhh……"

I closed the closet door behind me. I reached for a lightswitch and squinted my eyes.

Click.

The first thing I noticed as electric light spread pale and amber across the thin interior was a pair of bodies. Fox in his business casual from last night's Gothe Nightclub fiasco….and a blonde, middle-aged lab technician complete with lab coat and boots. The second thing I noticed was at least fifty crates of assault rifle ammo stacked up all around the two chained to a pipe.

"……..," I bit my lip. I cleared my throat and marched towards them, trying to look 'strong'. I marched towards the two and mouthed: 'I am here to get you out.'

"What was that?" Fox blinked. "I couldn't hear you, kid."

I fought back a frown. I repeated my lip-sync.

Fox shrugged and looked at the blonde scientist. "I can't a single word he says. Teenagers these days…they're ruder than Scorcese on Easter."

"He's mute you rich-ass twit!" the blonde barked, convulsed, breathed steadily to calm himself, and looked at me as he weakly uttered: "P-Please….you have to get us out of here. These people are insane enough as it is individually, much less 'working together'!"

I knelt down and tried to think up a way to cut them loose from their anchoring chains.

"Now I know Batman has been missing as of late…," the scientist said. "But someone….SOMEWHERE has got to do something! The Scarecrow! H-H-He's bastardizing my experimental chemicals into some sort of new, mass-produced fear toxin! It could mean trouble for the masses! No matter what these people might be planning!"

"Awwww…," Fox blew a raspberry. "Quit your whining!"

The blonde frowned at him. "Have you not a shred of human decency in you?"

"I would have if we were rescued four hours ago! Heh!" He turned and smirked at me. "Where were you when my bladder needed it the most? I tell you what, you haven't tasted of death till you find yourself having a bathroom break narrowed down to a soup can in the hands of the Mad Hatter! Ha! Once you've tinkled right in front of a little pale-faced rat of a man who looks like some lecherous reject from a Disney film….you start to get a little frazzled! God, I'm hungry. Got any cigarettes, pal?"

I gaped at the man….

"A sword! SWORD!" the man panted. "You got a sword! Use it t-t-t-t-to cut us l-l-loose and we can get the hell out of there!"

"Calm down for Krishna's sake!" Fox muttered then smirked at me. "Heh….meet my new pal, Dr. Langstrom."

"Nnngh…..mmmf…."

"He keeps grunting like that whenever he gets really steam-kettled about the things I say. I think the guy's got a blood pressure problem."

I blinked.

'Dr. Langstrom'……

Why does that sound familiar?

"Nnnngh!"

I look over at the man.

He's sweating. Convulsing. "My….anxiety levels…..the….th-the Scarecrow….has affected….m-my synthetic enzymes…..so th-that if I get too nervous or agitated…."

"Ah, the wonders of male PMS," Fox rolled his eyes. "Hey, Mr. Sword-Pimp! Wanna go out and grab some tampons cuz from the looks of it you sure as Hell aren't gonna be swiftly getting us out of this closet within the hour! Which is fine by me, really. I was getting into a lovely debate with Doc L here about the grand narrative myth of the poor and destitute proletariat as proliferated by propaganda conspirators such as Karl Marx and Oprah Winfrey. HEY! I'M A SMART MAN! E equals M….C….cubed, punk!"

"Nnnnngh!" Langstrom started to shake and quiver all over. There was a vibration to his voice, low and nasty. "It's happeniiiiiiiiiiing!"

I leaned back, panting.

What in the tu-tu prancing HELL is wrong with this City?

POW!

The closet door bust open.

I gasped and spun around.

"Que va!" Bane cried as he stood in the door frame. Ivy with a cross bow and the Clock King with his serrated cane stood in a line, facing us at a distance. "What's happening here?"

"Who's this ill-dressed juvenile?" Clock King frowned.

"It's Noir!" Ivy breathed. "From the factory below and beyond Gothe!"

CHIIIIING!

I whipped out Myrkblade, smoking.

"Cool!" Fox beamed.

"NNNNGHHH!" the sight of my close weapon seemed to agitate Langstrom even more.

I looked at him nervously over my shoulder.

"Well…muchacho….," Bane paced over towards me. Smirking under his mask. "Looks like you dropped into the right place."

SWOOOSH-SMACK! His boot slammed into my chest.

I let out a breath and flew back till I landed in Langstrom's convulsing lap.

"Heheheheh…," Bane shrugged and smirked. "You wanted to come here and make friends? Well meet. Dr. Langstrom. He's quite the….sociable type."

"NnnnnRAAAAAAUGH!" the blonde technician shrieked beneath me.

"Man!" Fox glared over. "Just what is your problem……aw hell…."

"?" I spun and found myself gazing into an almost-lycanthrope face. Shrieking into my black eyes.

"WRESSSSSSH!"

I gasped wide and fell flat on the floor with my sword.

THWAP!

Langstrom's boot clamped over my thigh and ripped apart as a huge mammalian talon burst out.

Still tethered to the pipes on the far side of the room, the man convulsed and shredded loose bit by bit of his labcoat and shirt until—before my twitching gaze—the Man-Bat loomed over me.

"Eheheheh….feeding time…."

"WRESSSSSSSSSSSSH!"