Hey, hasn't been as long between chapters as before, but hey, here I am! On with the story!
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans.
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Whence comes the night? From behind the sun? Beyond the pale of light? Is darkness truly just the mere absence of light? Fleeing before the power of simple light, hiding where it must, pooling itself in murky pools of shadow.
But darkness is born of light. Without one, the other may not exist. Without darkness, there would be no light.
"Stupid crud muncher…" the diminutive tech genius muttered under his breath, fingers flashing furiously over the tiny keyboard. Staring at the several floating screens on the wall, light glaring bright in the darkness as information scrawled across the panels and windows of artificial light, Gizmo's fingers tapped a rapid staccato clack, trawling for information.
It hadn't taken him long to hear the rumors scrawling about the interwebs about the explosions at the Tower. It was common knowledge that the Titans had all gathered in Titans Tower, and criminals worldwide were debating making their strike while the Titans were away.
The general consensus was that it was a bad idea - among the intelligent of course. For the small time crooks, the rumor that Titans were gathering in Titans Tower seemed like a godsend. Petty criminals appeared to be making their moves in various parts of the world - nothing serious, though who knows when a mastermind might decide that it was a good idea to set some things in motion while the Titans were distracted with their grief.
No sympathy for the dead.
Gizmo didn't care about any of that. The young genius was busy searching for his teammate - the essential teleporter. They were the HIVE FIVE. Not the HIVE FOUR. And like it or not, Kyd Wykkyd was their friend. You looked out for friends. That's how they survived after… it didn't bear thinking about.
But back to the explosions. Rumors had begun to circulate that the explosions heard from the island might be due to some super-fight between members of the Titans. Others countered, claiming the "explosions" were just thunder strikes hitting the lightning rods on the Tower's roof. Gizmo didn't believe that crud.
Kyd Wykkyd was at the Tower. Only thing he needed to do was figure out why. But for that, he'd need intel. See-More was half-way there when he'd checked in over the communicator. Still wasn't in range to get a good view of the Tower, so Gizmo had set about to finding a nearby drone.
Drones are handy little things. People use them for all sorts of stuff. A few are wi-fi enabled, and have cameras, used to get aerial pictures of various things. Only problem was the storm - piloting the drone would be hell (if it would even fly in the thunderstorm) and what images it had would be shoddy.
Gizmo would have to make do with what he found: it was nearby and he could spoof the command codes needed to commandeer the drone. Gritting his teeth as he piloted the drone through the high winds, noting the strain on the machine as he did, Gizmo sat spider-like, sweat dripping from his brow as the concentration required forced him to divert his attention solely to piloting the drone.
The picture was shaky and a little grainy, but sufficient. There appeared to be a hole in the side of Titan's Tower - a rather large one by the looks of it - that had yet to be boarded up. There were a lot of Titans outside in the rain though, which made Gizmo nervous. A few of the Titans were obvious to spot, but the grainy footage and the distance made it hard to tell exactly who was out there. They all seemed to be standing by the water's edge, so the diminutive genius deduced something must be in the water. Maybe it was fish-boy… who cared? Gizmo wanted to know where Kyd was.
It didn't help that Gizmo was suffering from sleep deprivation already. See-More and Mammoth had been trying to force him to sleep every now and then. Boogers. He had to work in his lab, update his tech. Lousy Titans wouldn't get the better of him, he had to prove that. Geniuses didn't have the time for cruddy things like sleep.
And he wouldn't get any rest till he had Kyd back at their base and forced to endure his endless barrage of insults and expletives. For reals, this time.
Robin had left his communicator at the Tower, motorcycle howling through the night on the empty highways. He needed time to himself. The pain of it was too much to bear.
You think he'd have gotten used to loss by now. It was what had driven him to fight crime. What made him take up his mask. What drove him through the hell that was training. Following his mentor through the crime ridden alleys and streets of Gotham.
Loss had been his motivation.
Why was it hurting him now? Pain was something he had learned to become accustomed to. It was meant to give him strength. Purpose. The emotional turmoil that only justice could quell. Turning his rage over the evils and wrongdoings of others into action - to make the world a better place.
He had saved the world, hadn't he? Made it a better place? But the scum just kept coming back.
Robin was needed. The villains had to be stopped, justice served. His team made the fight easier… but the fight would continue. Bruce hadn't stopped. Never stopped. Robin couldn't either.
But he couldn't think. His head throbbed and his bones ached. It had been so long since he was aware of his own mortality. Sure, death was always a threat, and he knew that. Robin knew he had no real powers and that these supervillains were typically more than a normal person should deal with.
But deal with them he did. He fought alongside superheroes, and eventually appeared to be one. Despite his own limitations, he strived to do better than anyone else.
He failed, didn't he? It would be easy to blame it on his lack of powers, or on being ill prepared, but that wasn't true. Bruce could easily tell him that. Robin had failed because he simply because there was no way he could have won. He didn't have the power to stop the villain from taking her.
Killing her.
Robin broke at that thought. A hand slipped, and eyes clenched from the sorrow sent the motorcycle into a skid. The bike flipped, and Robin didn't care. Flung free, the young man was thrown into the air as the bike rolled into the crash.
For a moment, he felt like he was flying. Like a robin. Soaring through the air as the sounds of the circus cried beneath him. Tumbling through the air once more, his parents smiling as they swung under the big top to the applause and glee of the crowds. He was never more happy as he was, his father's legs wrapped around a swinging bar with his mother clutched tight. Mom's hands stretched out to catch him.
He was soaring to them. Robin could see them, his own hands reaching out to them, knowing they would catch him and he'd still continue to fly.
He was flying!
The ground rushed up to meet him, the crunch of the black road smashing into his face.
Darkness clouded his vision, and Robin faded to black.
"Fires burn. Heat and molten magma roiling in the depths of the earth. Blazes surge in the deep, under the surface. Far, far below.
Why is it that when people think of Hell, they think of fire?
Fire and Brimstone…
Was it because, in those ancient times, people thought the Underworld was deep beneath the world, in those chthonic depths?
Where the heart of the World is?
Where the core of the Earth simply burns…
Granted, science will say otherwise - I will too, for that matter.
But… I suppose it does bear a certain poetic-ness to it all.
Fire was man's tool, once upon a time, and among his greatest assets. But fire also had the power to harm harm. While it helped stave off man's death, it also reminded man of his mortality when mishandled.
There are many similarities, fire and I. And then again, there are no similarities at all.
That doesn't change much. Is not every man a Servant of Death? Slaving away on this mortal coil til freed to whatever lies beyond - if there is something Beyond, I correct myself. Let's preserve the mystery shall we?
Servant of Death, or Servant of Man? Ah, who to obey and follow….? Everyone's a Servant to someone, Death, Man, or whatever else...
But…"
...
"For the record, I'm nobody's servant"
Boy, do I love to be mysterious. Props if you can figure out who the last PoV is... without using the Internet. And if you're wondering where the usual cliffhanger is? Well, then, who's the PoV? And why would he have the last word in this chapter? Think about it...
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