Across the city, Robin and Raven raced through the shadows of the industrial district, their movements swift and precise. The city was quiet, but a recent distress call had come in—one that neither of them could ignore.

They arrived at an abandoned building, its windows dark and cracked, the air thick with the scent of rust and decay. The distress call had been scrambled—fragmented—and Robin wasn't sure what they'd find inside. But they couldn't ignore it. Not when there was a chance that something dangerous was brewing in the city.

Raven floated silently behind Robin, her eyes scanning the perimeter, her senses heightened. "This place feels… weird," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the wind.

Robin nodded. "We need to be careful. We don't know what we're walking into."

The two of them slipped inside through a broken window, their footsteps silent on the cold, concrete floors. The building was a maze of empty rooms and darkened hallways, the air thick with dust. Robin's hand hovered over his utility belt, ready for anything.

As they ventured deeper into the building, a faint sound echoed through the halls. A voice—faint, barely audible, but unmistakable.

"Help me…"

Raven's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't sound right."

Robin's instincts flared. "Stay alert."

They moved cautiously toward the source of the voice, their shadows blending with the darkness around them. And then, in the center of a large, empty room, they found the source of the distress call: a figure bound to a chair, their face obscured by the shadows.

"Help…" the voice rasped again.

But as Robin and Raven stepped closer, the building began to shake.

The floor beneath them exploded, sending both of them flying backward as the room was flooded with blinding light. The shaking building grew stronger, the walls shifting and transforming around them.

"The whole place is falling apart!" Raven shouted, her powers flaring as she conjured a barrier to protect them from the falling debris.

Robin gritted his teeth, his mind racing. "We need to get out of here—now."

But as they scrambled to find an exit, they realized they were surrounded. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the halls, and from the shadows emerged the figures they hadn't expected.

Tamaranean soldiers—armored in the sleek, burnished gold of their homeworld—appeared from the far end of the room, their eyes glowing with the same energy that coursed through Starfire. Their expressions were hard, but there was something off in their movements, something cautious. Robin's eyes narrowed, his mind already working overtime to figure out what was going on. Why would Tamaraneans be here?

"Raven, cover the exits!" Robin ordered, readying himself for a fight.

But the soldiers didn't advance. They exchanged wary glances, and before Robin or Raven could make a move, the Tamaraneans turned and fled. The sound of their retreating footsteps faded into the distance, leaving behind only the whirring of the still-active alarm.

Raven floated beside Robin, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Tamaraneans. Here? That's not a good sign."

Robin scowled, unsure of what to make of the encounter. "We'll figure that out later. First, we need to get out of here."

They managed to escape the booby-trapped building and regroup outside, the night air cool against their skin. Just as they began to process what they'd seen, Robin's communicator buzzed. Cyborg's voice crackled through the speaker.

"Robin, it's ready."

Robin's pulse quickened. Cyborg had finished the device. The plan was moving forward.

"Got it. We'll head back to the Tower soon." Robin's voice was steady, but there was a heaviness to his words. He glanced at Raven, who looked back at him with a knowing gaze.

As they made their way back, they pondered what to do next. Raven floated silently beside him, her mind deep in thought. "Do you think we should use the device now?" she finally asked, her voice low. "Terra hasn't shown any signs of falling back into her old ways yet. If we do this too soon, Beast Boy might lose it."

Robin's jaw tightened as they neared the Tower. "I don't know. We could wait, see if she gives us a reason. But every day we wait is another day she could flip on us again."

Raven nodded, though she looked uneasy. "If we wait too long, it could be too late."

They were interrupted by a sudden, urgent beeping on their communicators. Robin checked the signal—it was a distress call. His eyes widened.

"Villain attack downtown. We've got to move."

Without another word, Raven and Robin raced toward the city to meet Cyborg and Starfire, who were already en route. The attack was swift and brutal, but as they approached the scene, they weren't prepared for what they found.

Cinderblock.

The hulking stone brute was rampaging through the streets, smashing everything in his path. Robin froze in disbelief as he watched the familiar villain tear through the city. "That's impossible. We took him down during the battle with the Brain. He was frozen solid—sealed away with the rest of the Brotherhood's army."

Raven's eyes widened as well. "Something's not right. How is he even here?"

Back at the Tower, Beast Boy sat beside Terra, trying to console her. She had been distant all morning, her body still battered, her face expressionless as she stared out the window. She hadn't eaten much of the breakfast Starfire made, and she hadn't said a word since the awkward encounter with the other Titans earlier.

"Terra… why won't you even try?" Beast Boy asked, frustration creeping into his voice. "You could come back. Join the team again, be one of us. It's what you wanted, right? You could start over, just like the rest of us."

Terra's face remained cold. She shook her head slightly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm not one of you anymore, Beast Boy. I told you that and even if I came back I'm not gonna be a titan again. Things have changed."

"They don't have to be like this!" he snapped, his emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface. "You could help! You could fight alongside us again! Why do you keep pulling away? What are you so afraid of? Your powers?"

Terra finally turned to him, her eyes hard. "I'm not afraid. I just… I don't belong here. Not after everything I've done. I'm not a hero."

"That's not for you to decide!" Beast Boy's voice cracked, his frustration turning into something darker, more primal. His hands clenched into fists, and he could feel the stirrings of his beast form tugging at the edges of his control. "You think you're the only one who's messed up? We've all made mistakes, but we're still a team. We could be your family again."

Terra's expression didn't soften. "You're still holding onto something that doesn't exist, Beast Boy. I'm not who you think I am. The girl you remember is just a memory."

The tension between them grew thick, the air electric with unspoken emotions. Beast Boy's heart raced, his body trembling as the animal instincts inside him fought to break free. His muscles tensed, his skin prickling as his eyes briefly flashed with the yellow glow of his feral side. He was teetering on the edge.

But then, he stopped. He forced himself to breathe, the beast inside him pulling back as his human side regained control. His heart was still pounding, but he managed to keep it together. For now.

Terra stood there, unmoving, her eyes locked with his. The room felt colder, as if something between them had cracked beyond repair.

Before either of them could speak again, the doors to the Tower slid open, and Robin, Cyborg, and the rest of the team rushed in. Beast Boy turned to face them, his tension quickly turning into confusion.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice still raw with emotion.

Robin's face was grim as he stepped forward. "Cinderblock. He's back."

Beast Boy's eyes widened in shock. "But… that's impossible. He was frozen with the rest of Brain's army. How is he back?"

Cyborg shook his head, his expression just as baffled. "We don't know. But something's definitely wrong. If Cinderblock's back… that could mean the others are too."

Beast Boy glanced back at Terra, his mind racing. Something bigger was happening, something they weren't prepared for.

And deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.