"I need to know everything that's happened in this city for the last several months; every shoplifting, assault, and murder. Any crime in this city. Put it on a map, tagged with the dates and times. Also, a list of all missing persons within the last six months; men, women, children, homeless, socialites, all of them." Jon paced behind the couch as he issued orders, the tone of his voice that of one well-accustomed to having his wishes followed. Cyborg had managed to whip up a cane from a few simple lengths of titanium, and its steady tapping upon the floor played counterpoint to the heavier, arrhythmic sounds of his feet.

"Rachel, I want you scanning the city for any outsider energy," he continued.

"That may be difficult," she said. "My own energy is probably all over this city."

"Well, give it a go and get back to me," Jon replied. "Cyborg, I want you to catalog the the crimes and put them on a map. Beast Boy," he turned to the green puppy curled up on the couch cushion, "you're in charge of missing persons. Be sure to talk to police about any missing derelicts." He got a soft bark in reply. "Starfire, I need you to run to the store and grab some things for me. Rachel," he called out just as the dark girl was about to step through the door, "are you running low on any reagents?" She thought a moment, and then shook her head and left the room. "Very well," he said as he scribbled on a sheet of paper, "here's a list of stores and items to get at each store. Please be sure to get everything on the list from the indicated vendors. If anyone gives you any trouble, tell them I sent you." He handed the list to the girl and then turned to Robin.

Robin was equal parts impressed and vexed by having control taken so effectively and effortlessly from him. On the one hand, this Jon character surely knew what was happening and how to prepare for it better than he himself did. On the other, the only guarantee they had to his identity was his word and the word of Raven. As a general rule, Robin trusted Raven more than any of the other Titans, but they had been sharing some sort of trance and little was known of what abilities Jon possessed. Mind control was nothing new to the Titans, and Robin's suspicious nature kept him edgy about this new "ally".

Jon, for his part, had noted Robin's reaction as soon as he had started issuing orders. It was understandable to have misgivings; Jon himself was working with these people purely on Rachel's word. "Robin," he called out, "can I talk to you in private?"

Robin gave a sharp nod and gestured to the doorway that Rachel had left through earlier. Just before they passed through, Cyborg called out, "Robin. You cool with this?"

The masked hero turned his head back to the Ops room and flashed a tight smirk. "What he said, Titans. Get to it." They set about their respective tasks while Jon and Robin walked out of the room.

The hallway was silent save for the click-shuffle of Jon's steps. Robin tread like a cat; silent, purposeful, and deadly. A door at the end of the hallway slid open at their approach, and it was here that Robin led them. The room was spartan, decorated with only a few chairs and a table. It had the look of an office conference room. The table was impressively sized, but simple. The chairs looked comfortable, but they weren't. A stray pen cap lay in the corner, a relict that was the only indication that the room had ever been used at all.

Jon sat heavily and sighed, slumping into the seat. Robin looked at him again, reevaluating him in light of this new posture. Jon noticed the scrutiny, and chuckled a bit. "I'm no threat to you, Robin," he began. "You could probably knock me over with a feather at this point. I haven't eaten in days, my energy is practically tapped out, and I'm crippled from that coma I recently got out of." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's been one hell of a start to my time in the city."

Robin gave a wry grin, faint but present. "Welcome to Jump," he said. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Jon shook his head a bit to dispel any lingering thoughts and said, "I need to be briefed on your team, and I need to brief you on the potential situation you have here. Which do you want first?" Robin's mask gave the impression of narrowed eyes as he thought before he said, "Brief me on the situation first."

"Very well," Jon replied. "With one dozen victims we're likely looking at three apiece for four Nephilim."

"What's a Nephilim?" Robin interrupted.

Jon looked at him quizzically. "The scion of a fallen angel and a mortal."

A pause ensued as Robin processed that before he whispered, "Raven..."

"Not quite, but close enough for this discussion," Jon stated. "So, three victims each at twelve victims equals four Nephilim. It's possible that they're all full brothers, but more than likely they're a collection of half-siblings."

"Why are you so sure that they're all male?"

"Technically, I'm not. I'm guessing based off of the conjugation of the message; the relevant bits were in male-form. The parts referring to the 'Gem' were female-form." Jon looked directly into Robin's mask, and Robin was suddenly and disconcertingly certain that Jon could see right through the it to the eyes behind. "I assume you've had a similar message delivered to you in the past, based upon your reaction to this one."

Robin grunted and attempted to shake off the piercing look being sent his way. "Not delivered to us, per se. It was a prophecy. 'The Gem was born of Evil's fire/The Gem shall be his portal/He comes to Claim/He comes to Sire/The end of all things mortal.'"

"Any idea who the demon is?" Jon asked distractedly, lost in thought as he committed the prophecy to memory.

"Yeah, we fought him and banished him from this dimension. Trigon was the name."

Jon choked and damn near fell off of his chair. "Trigon?!"

Robin's face was grim. "Trigon," he confirmed. "The experience wasn't something you forget easily."

"Robin," Jon said frantically, "Trigon is one of the most powerful and highly ranked demons in this universe. How in God's name did you manage to banish him?"

"Raven was the one that actually did it," Robin replied. "I'm not sure how exactly she managed it. You'd have to ask her."

"Oh, I will," Jon said as he pulled himself together. "Just so you know, this is very bad news. I have to talk to Rachel before I can brief you any further. Throwing Trigon into the mix changes everything."

"Why?"

"Well, I thought we were dealing with offspring of a lower demon. Trigon breathes rarefied air in comparison." At Robin's lost look, Jon said, "I initially thought we were dealing with a gun. Turns out it's a bazooka. Maybe a nuke."

Robin winced. "That bad?" he asked.

Jon nodded his confirmation. "Yep. So, until I talk to Rachel that's all I have for you. I'll let you know more as soon as I have it."

"Sure," Robin replied, and then paused. "Jon, what's with you calling Raven that?"

"That," Jon said with a smile, "is a story. You see, when I first came to this city..."

=-=-=-=-=-

Starfire returned to the tower, her arms overflowing with bags. Cyborg, who was using the computer in the Ops room to perform his assigned tasks, looked over with wide eyes. "Hello, Friend Cyborg," the effusive alien said. "I have returned from the shopping!"

"Uh, I can see that, Star." Cyborg raised an eyebrow and continued with, "What all did Jon have on that list, anyway?"

Starfire giggled. "Friend Jon did not have too many items on his list. I also bought groceries!"

Cyborg stopped still, his biological widening in time with the brightening of his prosthetic eye. Hoping against hope that he had misheard, he weakly repeated, "Groceries?"

The effusive alien nodded vigorously. "Yes. I noticed that we were lacking certain items of goodness."

It was a testament to their friendship and his personal willpower that Cyborg was able to force a sickly grin on his face as he said, "Great. Thanks, Star."

"You are very welcome," she replied seriously as she began to do battle with the dishes and refrigerator.

Cyborg went back to his work, resigned to going hungry for a day or two until he could go shopping himself.

=-=-=-=-=-

Raven levitated, her legs crossed in a lotus position. She hovered in the center of a circle delineated by salt, candles spaced equidistant about the perimeter. The door to her room was locked, the curtains drawn. She had left a sign on the door explaining that under no circumstances was she to be disturbed. Her eyes were closed, her lips silently shaping the syllables that were her mantra.

Power flowed through her. The air hummed with the potential- crystal bottles and artifacts about the room vibrated in sympathy to it. A soft ringing sound was rising through the silence, becoming louder as she began to vocalize the spell. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos, Carazon Rakhashas Endareth, Vaserics Endrian Kithados, Kithados Kisthados KITHADOS!"

During the course of the spell a shimmering light overtook the salt on the ground and the candles' flames burned black. Seeking tendrils of Raven's dark power snaked out in all directions, eventually becoming drawn to the candles' fire. At the final words a great column of black energy shot up from the salt, hiding the sorceress from view. A great sound was heard, the screaming of a spectral raptor, and when the column descended back into the circle there was no Raven to be seen.

=-=-=-=-=-

Beast Boy rode the thermals as an eagle, angling towards the Tower. His conversations with the beat cops had unnerved him, and it was with a distinctly somber mindset that he flew. The trends for missing persons had remained more or less steady according to the young female officer at the department. According to those that actually went out into the field and dealt with the street people, however, there was a sense of grim panic. People were missing, more each day. Not the kind of people that would have anyone to call the police on their behalf, either. The guy with the skinny dog on the corner of Maple and Fifth, the woman with the shopping cart full of bags, the group of kids that slept in the old subway tunnels, all gone and more besides.

And nobody was really doing anything about it.

For the first time, Beast Boy began to awaken to the everyday deficiencies of the city he tried to protect, of the world that he had defended. Sure, he knew that there were homeless. He knew that there were bad people in the world. He had fought many of them personally. But this was different. This wasn't so much an evil to be fought as it was a process that couldn't be halted. It was a side-effect of civilization, part of nature's perfect balancing act, and there was nothing he could do about it.

So he flew silently home in the form of an eagle, predator eyes on the dispossessed below. Watching. Remembering. And bearing witness.