Titans Together
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Chapter Nine.
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The once vibrant and bustling Jump City Carnival, which had buzzed with the laughter and excitement of citizens spanning all ages, now stood eerily deserted. The lively atmosphere that once echoed with joyous chatter and the thrill of carnival games had given way to an unsettling stillness. Despite the apparent abandonment, remnants of the festivities persisted—the faint strains of music lingered in the air, arcade games continued their mechanical movements, and the enticing aroma of freshly popped popcorn and other deep-fried treats wafted through the empty spaces.
Frozen in a surreal moment, the carnival seemed suspended in time, a ghostly echo of the jubilation that had animated it only hours ago. Desolate pathways wound through vacant stalls and attractions, the colorful lights now casting long, lonely shadows. The carousel, once a whirl of vibrant colors, now stood motionless, its painted horses silently waiting for riders who would not come.
Although the mechanical heartbeat of the carnival continued, there was an eerie disconnect between the ongoing activities and the absence of the once-eager crowd. The cheerful spirit had fled, leaving behind a hollow echo of what had been a celebration of community and festivity. The air itself seemed to carry a whisper of the joy that once filled the space, now replaced by a haunting stillness that mirrored the sudden evacuation of happiness and anticipation.
In the heart of the carnival, adjacent to the toppled Ferris wheel, a charged atmosphere crackled as two men locked eyes in an intense stare-down. Richard, his eyes narrowed with determination through the mask concealing his face, maintained an unyielding focus on the mysterious soldier before him.
Though uncertain about the soldier's identity, Richard knew, judging by the ominous Cadmus label on his chest, that it wasn't anything good. Gripping his electric sticks with unwavering resolve, Richard stood poised and ready, fully prepared to face the challenges this mysterious adversary might unleash. His unwavering gaze remained fixed on the advancing Subject 13, a silent but unmistakable invitation conveyed through the assertive stance he assumed.
Subject 13, embodying the disciplined prowess of a soldier, wasted no time in responding to the unspoken challenge. With determined stomps, he advanced, his fists clenched and poised for action as he lunged towards Richard.
As Subject 13 threw the first punch, Richard's agility came to the forefront. Swiftly sidestepping the incoming blow, he showcased a dancer's grace amid the deserted carnival. Subject 13, undeterred by the initial miss, intensified his assault, throwing a series of punches, swings, and elbow strikes in rapid succession. However, Richard, a seasoned combatant with a keen understanding of evasive maneuvers, deftly avoided each attack, his movements calculated and precise.
With every evasion, Subject 13's frustration grew, his relentless onslaught met by the nimble dance of Richard's evasive maneuvers. Richard, capitalizing on his opponent's growing impatience, patiently awaited the perfect opening.
Subject 13 gritted his teeth in anger, frustration evident on his features as he launched another punch towards Richard. However, this time, Richard's response went beyond mere evasion. With a swift and decisive motion, he intercepted the incoming blow, not just dodging but effectively pushing it aside. The unexpected resistance forced Subject 13 to momentarily lose his momentum, a calculated move on Richard's part.
Seizing the opportune moment, Richard patiently waited for his adversary to turn around. As Subject 13 pivoted, Richard coiled his fist, delivering a powerful punch squarely to the soldier's face. The impact, potent enough to incapacitate a regular person and momentarily disarm most metahumans, yielded an unexpected outcome—Subject 13 remained unfazed.
The soldier glared back at Richard, his resilience defying the conventional rules of engagement. Swiftly retaliating, Subject 13 grabbed Richard's fist in a display of unyielding strength. Caught off guard, Richard's eyes widened as he found himself unable to muster an immediate counterattack. Before he could react, Subject 13 delivered a powerful punch to Richard's chest, sending him sprawling backward. Richard, displaying agility and skill, executed a nimble cartwheel, seamlessly landing back on his feet. However, he had little time to regain his composure before Subject 13 unleashed another relentless punch.
Thinking on his feet, Richard bounced back with remarkable agility, evading the incoming strike. Capitalizing on the opening, he leaped into the air, executing a precise spin-kick that landed squarely on Subject 13's face. Recognizing that his physical blows were ineffective against the resilient soldier, Richard shifted tactics.
Seizing a brief moment when Subject 13 was momentarily turned, Richard swiftly retrieved his electric sticks from his back. In a calculated move, he stabbed the sticks between Subject 13's shoulder blades, unleashing a shocking surge of electricity. To Richard's surprise, the pain-inducing shock failed to disarm Subject 13 as it would with an ordinary person. Instead, the soldier emitted a scream of pain but promptly whipped around to face Richard.
In a swift and retaliatory move, Subject 13 seized Richard by his suit, effortlessly lifting him into the air before ruthlessly slamming him back down to the ground. The impact reverberated through the deserted carnival grounds, the clash between the two adversaries intensifying with every passing moment.
Gasping for air, Richard felt the searing pain of more than one fractured rib intensifying with every attempt to move. Despite his best efforts to rise, Subject 13 ruthlessly slammed his foot onto Richard's chest, suppressing any hope of recovery. The forceful impact sent waves of agony through Richard's body, and he instinctively grasped Subject 13's leg, a desperate attempt to alleviate the pain.
Undeterred by Richard's struggle, Subject 13 bent down, firmly seizing the hero by the suit with one hand. Elevating Richard above him, the soldier's eyes began to emit a menacing red glow, signaling the imminent unleashing of heat vision. Helpless, Richard braced himself for the searing onslaught, closing his eyes in anticipation of the inevitable impact.
However, the anticipated heat vision never materialized. Confusion clouded Richard's senses as he cautiously opened his eyes to find Subject 13 strangely distracted. An eerie sound, ominous and unsettling, resonated in the air around them. Recognizing the source, a sense of relief washed over Richard.
Directing his full attention to the peculiar dark cloud of energy swirling around him, Subject 13 dropped Richard to the ground, momentarily disregarding his captive. The ethereal mist moved in hypnotic patterns, creating an otherworldly display that captured Subject 13's focus.
The dark cloud of energy, a manifestation of mystical power, held Subject 13 in a captive trance. Maintaining his vigilance, Subject 13 turned, acknowledging the true manipulator of the energy, understanding that a new adversary had entered the fray.
From the sidelines, Garfield watched in astonishment, marveling at the spectacle unfolding before him, his amazement evident as Raven effortlessly manipulated her powers. Despite the lingering traces of resentment for her departure, a newfound understanding dawned on Garfield, realizing the significance of Raven's mentorship under Bruce. However, any contemplation was abruptly set aside as Subject 13 redirected his attention toward them.
"Um... Raven... He's coming towards us." Garfield stammered nervously. His apprehension was palpable in the urgency of his words.
"I know. I want him to." Raven responded calmly, her voice unwavering and collected. Her eyes, however, bore an intensity that hinted at the calculated purpose behind her seemingly tranquil demeanor.
"You what?!" Garfield exclaimed in disbelief, his wide-eyed expression reflecting the sheer incredulity of the situation. The tension in the air escalated as Garfield grappled with the enigma of Raven's intentions, his confusion mirroring the impending clash between the approaching Subject 13 and the mysterious forces at Raven's command.
As Subject 13 stormed toward her, Raven maintained a composed demeanor, calmly advancing to meet him. The energy manipulated by her powers coiled around the soldier, tightening with each step he took. His strides escalated into a desperate sprint, realization dawning that the mystical restraints were closing in. By the time he reached Raven, the energy had become an unyielding force, immobilizing his arms and restricting his movements. Subject 13 growled in frustration. His attempts to break free were met with futile resistance against the formidable energy.
Raven, undeterred by the soldier's fury, approached him with measured steps. As Subject 13 struggled against the unyielding restraints, Raven lifted her hands toward his face with a deliberate calmness. His eyes glowed with the promise of unleashed heat vision, yet Raven maintained her serenity, gently cupping the side of his face. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, a soft glow emanating from her hands.
"Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you." Raven spoke with an air of soothing reassurance, her calmness cutting through the charged atmosphere. As her eyes opened, they revealed glowing white orbs that radiated an otherworldly light.
In the midst of his fury, Subject 13 abruptly ceased his struggle. The once chaotic energy in his eyes underwent a profound transformation, shifting from turmoil to an eerie calmness as Raven's mystical powers exerted their profound influence. The air around them held a palpable tension, thick with anticipation, as the two figures stood locked in a peculiar standoff. The mystic energy, swirling around Subject 13 served as both captor and guide, weaving a complex narrative of light and shadow in the unfolding confrontation.
Meanwhile, Richard slowly sat up, the sharp pain of his injured ribcage causing him to wince with every movement. His gaze drifted towards Raven, who had successfully restrained Subject 13 with her powers. Though relieved by her apparent success, Richard's attention was abruptly drawn to Kori's limp form lying in the indented building.
"Kori..." Richard's voice trembled with concern, his expression morphing into a mask of panic as he scrambled to his feet.
Ignoring the searing pain radiating through his body, Richard dashed towards Kori, her still figure stirring a sense of urgency within him. Dropping to his knees beside her, his hands hovered hesitantly above her prone form. As he reached out, intending to gently lift her, Kori's fist shot out with surprising force, catching him off guard and sending him hurtling backward into a nearby carnival booth.
Richard groaned, the impact reverberating through his throbbing head as he struggled to regain his bearings. Despite the daze that clouded his senses, he attempted to rise from the wreckage, his efforts hindered by the lingering effects of the blow. With great effort, he managed to stand, only to be met with an unexpected surge of energy that knocked him back, his singed suit bearing witness to the close call. Grateful for the protective armor that had shielded him from the worst of the blast, Richard gritted his teeth against the onslaught of pain, his determination unshaken.
Richard, despite the instability of his balance, attempted once again to rise to his feet. His every movement seemed labored, the lingering effects of the blast evident in his unsteady demeanor. As he struggled to regain his composure, his gaze was abruptly drawn to Kori lethally flying towards him.
Before Richard could react, Kori's hand shot to his throat, a sudden and shocking encounter that left him gasping for breath. His eyes widened in disbelief as the alien effortlessly hoisted him into the air, her grip tightening around his neck.
"Kori..." He tried to speak, but the feeble attempt to articulate her name was barely audible.
Kori's glowing eyes narrowed with an unsettling intensity as she held him in her vice-like grip. Richard, desperate to free himself, clawed at her hand, a futile struggle against the impending suffocation. The air grew thick with tension as his lungs constricted and his vision blurred, the realization dawning that his efforts were in vain, and the precious energy he had left was swiftly draining away. The struggle for survival unfolded in a harrowing tableau, each passing moment escalating the gravity of the situation as Richard teetered on the brink of unconsciousness.
"Kori," Richard choked out, his voice catching in the vice-like grip of Kori's hand. "Kori, you have to fight this."
Despite the urgency in his plea, each attempt to reach her seemed to intensify her anger. Every enraged snarl directed at him caused his heart to break, the echoes of her fury reverberating through the air, each syllable a jagged edge slicing through his resolve. With each snarl, Richard felt the weight of her fury pressing down on him, his heart breaking with every guttural sound that escaped her lips. The raw emotion in her voice echoed through the tumultuous air, a haunting melody of discontent that resonated with the depths of his soul.
"Please, Kori, come back to me." He implored, the desperation palpable in his crimpling voice.
She tightened her grip in response, his words clearly resonating with her as if they were echoes in the caverns of her conflicted soul. The physical manifestation of her emotional turmoil was evident in the pressure of her hold.
Despite the escalating tension, Richard felt compelled to persist in reasoning with her. The air crackled with a tangible energy, a poignant mixture of desperation and determination enveloping him. Each attempt to penetrate the barricades of her conditioning was fueled by the fervent hope that, amidst the chaos, the Kori he loved would hear and recognize his unwavering devotion. With resolute determination, Richard pressed forward, unwavering in his quest to break through the walls and reach the core of the woman he cherished.
"Please, Kori. I promise things will be different. I won't take your admiration for granted. I will give you all the training and attention you need. You will have my full, and unyielding support. Please, Kori, please... I care about you. Please fight this." His words hung in the air, a desperate refrain echoing in the charged silence between them, each syllable carrying the weight of his earnest plea.
Yet, the alien's wrathful demeanor remained unyielding, a storm of anger that showed no signs of abating, unresponsive to the emotional appeals that hung in the air. Resigned to the possibility that this might be his final moment, Richard ceased his futile struggle, the tension between them a palpable force that lingered like an unspoken requiem for what could have been. The raw vulnerability of his appeal clashed with the unyielding wall of her rage, creating a poignant tableau of despair and unrequited hope.
"I... I love you." He confessed, the admission carrying the weight of vulnerability, each syllable an echo of his deepest emotions. As he began to drift into unconsciousness, Kori's grip suddenly loosened, releasing her hold on him.
Richard crumpled to his knees, one hand propping him up while the other clutched his chest, desperately gasping for air. As oxygen replenished his lungs, he mustered the strength to look up at the girl before him, uncertain of the aftermath of his heartfelt revelation.
Kori just stood still, her eyes closed, and face contorted in internal torment, giving no sign of whether or not his Kori was there. The air hung heavy with anticipation, an unspoken question lingering in the charged atmosphere. Unable to know if he had reached her, Richard could only utter her name. "Kori?" He questioned, his voice scratchy and barely audible.
"You mean it?" Kori asked softly, her face softening as she slowly opened her eyes, revealing vulnerable green orbs that held the depth of her emotions. She looked down at him, and Richard could only stare, relief flooding through him as he gazed into her soft green eyes that he loved so much. "You love me?" She asked, tears building in her eyes, the vulnerability in her voice resonating with the weight of their shared emotions.
Without taking his eyes off her, Richard let go of his bruised neck as he managed to get to his wobbly feet. He looked at her directly, a genuine smile forming on his lips that radiated both relief and love. "Kori, I love you more than I can even comprehend. You are the first thing I want to see in the morning, and the last thing I want to see at night. When I see you, I feel nothing but warmth and delight. You are a beacon of positivity and the light in my dark world."
Kori stared at him, her emotions raw and unfiltered, tears trickling down her cheeks before she uncontrollably bolted forward, wrapping her arms around him as she kissed him deeply. The intensity of the kiss reflected the depth of their emotions, a culmination of the tumultuous events that had transpired.
Despite the searing pain from the recent ordeal, Richard embraced the hug with fervor, tightening his arms around her afraid to let her go. He hadn't realized how much he needed this embrace, how much he needed the reassurance that she was still with him. His arms locked around her, and in the midst of the chaotic aftermath, they clung to each other, pressing their lips together in a desperate yet passionate kiss that transcended the trials they had faced.
...
She could discern the melodic symphony of birds chirping in the trees, and the gentle hum of crickets singing their serenade in the grass. The warm breeze played through her hair, carrying with it the sweet fragrance of blooming wildflowers.
Raven slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the sight of a vast grassy field stretching out into the horizon. The clear sky above painted a serene tableau with its lovely shade of blue, adorned with a few fluffy clouds drifting lazily. A couple of birds, their wings catching the sunlight, chirped as they gracefully glided above her. A content smile graced her lips as she absorbed the natural beauty around her, watching the summer breeze playfully rustle the wildflowers that danced among the tall grass.
"It's beautiful." She spoke, her voice resonating with appreciation for the idyllic landscape that surrounded her.
Beside her, Subject 13 wore a genuine smile, his connection to the serene landscape resonating with him in ways that even he struggled to comprehend. "I'm not entirely sure what this place is, or why it feels so familiar. But when I think of it, it feels like home." He mused, his eyes scanning the picturesque scenery. The joy on his face, however, shifted to a more somber expression. "I was created to be a soldier, a mere weapon auctioned off to the highest bidder. But..." He paused, grappling with his conflicting emotions. "But I don't want that. I don't want to be their weapon." The weight of his admission hung in the air, the vulnerability of his desire for a different life etched on his features.
Raven, resonating with the struggle against a predetermined purpose, nodded empathetically. "I understand the weight of one's purpose. Just because they created you for a role doesn't mean you have to fulfill it. You are your own person. You might have been designed as a weapon, but you have the power to choose your own path, to write your own story different from the one they intended for you."
"I..." Subject 13 hesitated, his uncertainty palpable. "I don't know how."
"We can help you." Raven reassured with a soft smile, extending her hand toward him. "If you let us."
A moment of hesitation lingered, the conflict evident in Subject 13's contemplative gaze as he glanced at her outstretched hand and then down at his own. The landscape around them seemed to hold its breath, the vibrant colors of the field providing a stark contrast to the uncertainty in his eyes. With a clear but hesitant resolve, he finally reached forward, accepting her hand. The simple gesture marked a profound step towards a future of his own choosing, away from the predetermined path that had been set for him.
...
Raven gently released her hands from the sides of Subject 13's face, a subtle sense of accomplishment reflected in her eyes as she lowered her hands. Confident that she had reached him, she released the restraints that had bound him. Taking a step back, she allowed the ethereal carnival, once charged with chaos, to gradually ease into a tranquil stillness.
Subject 13 slowly opened his eyes, calmly surveying his surroundings. The signs of hostile rage had dissipated entirely. When he turned his gaze toward Raven, her reassuring smile conveyed an assurance that he had nothing to fear. However, a twinge of hurt crossed his features as he looked at Garfield, who still harbored a lingering fear of him. Shifting his attention to Richard and Kori, who approached him with cautious steps, Subject 13 braced himself to confront the very individuals he had attempted to eliminate mere minutes ago, grappling with the complexities of his newfound emotions and the gravity of his recent actions.
"Can you tell me who you are?" Richard inquired calmly, the pain evident in his posture as he approached the soldier, his hands gently clutching his ribs.
"They call me Subject 13." He introduced with a hint of vulnerability. "I am cloned from the DNA of Superman and Lex Luthor. But I do not want to be the weapon they created me to be." The weight of his words hung in the air, a plea for understanding and a desire for a different, self-determined path.
No longer perceiving him as a threat, Richard approached the boy with a warm smile. "We can help you with that." He said confidently.
Subject 13 reciprocated the smile when something from the sky caught his attention. The distant figure grew larger, descending gracefully with an air of unparalleled majesty. Was it a bird? Was it a plane? Intrigued, everyone followed his gaze and looked up, their eyes widening in astonishment.
"No way..." Garfield muttered, his jaw agape in disbelief.
With a seamless and majestic landing, a tall man stood before them, the iconic bright red S on his chest unmistakably revealing his identity. "Hello, young man." He greeted, addressing Subject 13 directly. "I am Superman."
...
The chaotic panic that had gripped the community gradually subsided. Police officers and paramedics managed to navigate through the carnival grounds, bringing a sense of order to the previously tumultuous scene. The paramedics efficiently attended to the injured, and while there were thankfully no fatalities, a few individuals required serious medical attention. Questions lingered in the air, but the presence of the respected Supermen played a pivotal role in swiftly clearing up the confusion. With their assistance, the authorities were able to resolve the situation, and no arrests were deemed necessary in the aftermath of the unexpected disturbance. The atmosphere shifted from chaos to a controlled calm as the community began to process the events that had transpired.
From the sidelines, Garfield stood amidst the remnants of chaos, still cocooned in Raven's cloak. His wide eyes remained fixed on Superman as he calmly conversed with the police officers. The carnival, once a scene of panic, was now under control, with paramedics tending to the injured and police officers making sense of the situation.
"I'm surprised you haven't asked him for an autograph yet." Raven remarked, strolling up beside him.
"Heh, well... Honestly, when I pictured meeting one of my heroes, I didn't think I would have only a cape to cover myself with." He replied, instinctively tightening the fabric around him.
"It's a cloak." She corrected, the emphasis subtly conveying her acceptance of the uniform.
"What's the difference?" Garfield questioned, a hint of confusion in his expression that added a hint of levity to the post-chaotic aftermath.
Meanwhile, the glow of the carnival's array of lights played upon the worn asphalt, casting a strangely comforting ambiance. The joyful carnival music combined with the rhythmic hum of the distant sirens blended with the more immediate sounds of bustling paramedics and police officers, creating a tapestry of controlled chaos that enveloped the scene.
Richard winced slightly as the EMT carefully tended to his injuries. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the metallic tang of blood. The ambulance's open doors allowed a cool breeze to sweep through, carrying with it the distant echoes of the carnival's redundant melody.
After attending to his wounds and the meticulous wrapping of Richard's ribcage, the EMT offered a warm and reassuring smile. Grateful, Richard nodded in acknowledgment before gingerly hopping off the gurney, his boots hitting the ground with a subdued thud.
As Richard distanced himself from the medical activity, a commanding silhouette approached him. "Batman called you, didn't he?" Richard presumed, his tone a blend of acknowledgment and familiarity.
"As usual, he is one step ahead of everyone else." Superman responded, his keen eyes scanning the Titan. Taking in Richard's new black and blue uniform, despite its battle-worn appearance, Superman could appreciate the quality and resilience it exhibited. "I heard you retired the old uniform, and I've got to say this new one is very becoming."
Richard, ever humble, shrugged his shoulders. "I needed a fresh start."
"Does this fresh start have a name?" Superman inquired, his voice carrying both curiosity and wisdom.
Richard paused, the weight of the question settling over him. "I'm not sure yet."
Superman nodded understandingly, his gaze momentarily shifting to the night sky. "On Krypton, there was a man in a blue-winged suit who went by the name Nightwing. Some called him a vigilante. Some called him a hero. But one thing that was for certain, he believed in justice."
The words hung in the air, a gentle suggestion and a nod to a legacy that transcended titles. "Nightwing, huh?" Richard repeated, the weight of the title settling on his shoulders like a mantle of responsibility. The moniker echoed with a sense of familiarity and purpose, as if it had been waiting for him all along.
Superman's smile widened, a silent affirmation of the significance behind the chosen name. With a reassuring pat on Richard's shoulder, Superman conveyed a silent camaraderie that spoke volumes. "Good luck, Richard." He said, the words carrying the weight of both encouragement and understanding. With that, Superman walked back to Subject 13, his presence a symbol of strength and guidance in the midst of uncertainty.
Richard observed the iconic hero's departure, a mixture of gratitude and determination etched on his face. As Superman receded into the background, Richard turned his attention to the new approaching figure, a small, genuine smile gracing his lips as he held out his arm, inviting her to come closer.
Kori approached Richard, moving with deliberate care to avoid causing him further discomfort. A soft smile mirrored his own as she nestled against his chest, her body language expressing a deep sense of relief. Richard's arm enveloped her gently, providing a secure embrace that conveyed both protection and reassurance.
However, the joy of their reunion and the unveiling of Richard's infatuation were tempered by a sober reality. Kori, despite the warmth of his embrace, couldn't fully immerse herself in the moment. Her sigh carried a mixture of relief and concern, acknowledging the fragility of their circumstances.
A multitude of emotions churned within Kori, the recent events at Cadmus still a fresh wound in her mind. The guilt stemming from her hostile rampage through the carnival lingered, a heavy burden she now had to carry. The memory of the people she unintentionally hurt and terrified with her unbridled fury weighed on her conscience. The conditioning she endured had left her mind wounded, riddled with doubts and uncertainty about her own abilities and control.
As Kori nestled against Richard's chest, she grappled with the internal struggle of reconciling her past actions with the desire to be a hero. The recent challenges had shaken her confidence, and she questioned her capability to navigate the complexities of being a beacon of hope. The scars, both physical and mental, ran deep, and the path ahead seemed daunting.
Shifting her gaze towards Garfield, Kori met the changeling's wounded expression, a reflection of her own pain and uncertainty. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange that transcended words, a shared understanding born of the trials they faced together. A mix of empathy and understanding reinforced Kori's realization that she wasn't alone in grappling with doubts and fears. The weight of their shared experiences hung in the air, a palpable reminder of the toll their heroic endeavors took on their minds and spirits. The unspoken acknowledgment between them conveyed a collective understanding that provided a measure of comfort in the midst of uncertainty.
But then Kori looked back at Richard, her eyes meeting his reassuring gaze conveyed over his masked face. "Everything will be okay." He assured her before tenderly kissing the top of her head. Standing together, his arms served as a comforting anchor around Kori as the night embraced them with its quiet tumult. The future remained uncertain, but in their shared vulnerabilities, they found a strength that transcended the uncertainties that lay ahead.
"Can we go home now?" Garfield asked as he and Raven approached the pair. "I need a hot shower, some clothes, and a good cry." The weariness in Garfield's voice resonated, a testament to the toll their recent ordeal had taken on them.
Richard opened his mouth to respond, poised to offer some reassurance, but before he could answer, a woman charged forward, a microphone in hand and a cameraman in tow. "Excuse me! Can you answer a couple of questions? Can you tell us what happened here? Are you close with Superman? Are you Jump City's new superheroes? What should we call you?"
Richard turned to the others and smiled as the woman thrust the microphone in his face. "We are the Titans!" He declared proudly, his voice cutting through the night's chaos with a resolute confidence.
...