Chapter 23
The Team stood at attention as Batman's sharp gaze swept over them, his presence commanding the room. Tom stood near the back, Kaelith's quiet presence flickering in his mind as he watched the Dark Knight step forward, his cape sweeping the floor behind him.
"There's been a development," Batman began, his tone low and authoritative. "The League has identified a metahuman testing facility controlled by the Light. This facility has been abducting young metahumans and conducting human experimentation."
The atmosphere in the room grew tense, the weight of the revelation settling over the Team.
"Your mission," Batman continued, his voice steady but firm, "is to infiltrate this facility, rescue any hostages, gather intelligence, and neutralize all immediate threats. Once the area is secured, the proper authorities will be contacted to clean up and ensure the facility is permanently shut down."
Tom's stomach churned at the mention of experimentation. The idea of anyone—let alone kids—being subjected to such horrors hit far too close to home.
Superboy's arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tight. "Why isn't the League handling this directly?" he asked, his voice low but edged with frustration.
Batman's gaze flicked to Superboy, his expression unreadable. "The League will be conducting a simultaneous raid on a major Light facility elsewhere. Dividing our forces allows us to strike multiple targets at once, minimizing the Light's ability to regroup."
Miss Martian raised a hand slightly, her voice calm but tinged with concern. "Do we have intel on the facility's layout? How many hostages are inside?"
Batman nodded, activating a holographic display at the center of the room. A 3D map of the facility materialized, its structure detailed with marked points of interest. "We believe there are between ten and fifteen hostages, but that number is subject to change. The facility is heavily fortified, with automated defenses and armed guards. Expect resistance."
Blue Beetle leaned forward, studying the map. "Do we know if they have metas working for them? Like enforcers?"
"Possibly," Batman replied, his tone clipped. "The Light frequently employs metahuman operatives. Assume they have assets on-site until proven otherwise."
Impulse zipped to the front, his energy palpable even in the tense atmosphere. "Okay, but what about backup? What if things go sideways?"
"Backup will be limited," Batman said, his voice firm. "The League is occupied with their own operation. You'll need to rely on each other and complete the mission covertly. Speed and precision are key."
Nightwing stepped forward, his calm presence balancing the tension in the room. "This is what we've trained for," he said, addressing the Team. "We'll stick to the plan, adapt if needed, and get those kids out safely. We've handled worse."
Tom watched as the Team absorbed the information, their resolve solidifying. The gravity of the mission was clear, and the stakes felt higher than anything they'd faced so far. He shifted slightly, his mind already working through potential strategies and what his role might be in the operation.
Raven's voice broke through the silence, her tone quiet but steady. "Do we know what they're experimenting on specifically? Is it related to their known metahuman trafficking operations?"
Batman's gaze shifted to her, his expression giving away nothing. "Unconfirmed. However, the Light's experiments are always tied to their larger objectives—controlling or weaponizing metahumans. You'll need to secure any data from the facility to clarify their intentions."
The room fell silent again as Batman's words sank in. He glanced over the Team once more, his gaze lingering briefly on each member before he spoke again.
"This mission is high-risk," he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "But I have full confidence in your ability to handle it. You know your roles. You know what's at stake. Do not let your guard down."
With that, he stepped back, his sharp eyes locking onto Nightwing. "Coordinate with the League's operation when necessary, but your priority is the facility and the hostages."
Nightwing nodded, his posture straight and composed. "Understood."
Batman's gaze swept over the Team one last time. "Prepare for departure. You leave in one hour."
As he turned to leave, the room buzzed with quiet energy as the Team began to gather themselves for the task ahead. Tom felt his pulse quicken, the weight of the mission settling heavily on his chest. Kaelith's presence flickered in his mind, her voice calm and steady. "Stay focused, Tom. You'll need all your wits for this."
He nodded faintly, steeling himself for what was to come. This wasn't just another exercise or drill—this was real. And failure wasn't an option.
Tom's thoughts drifted to the hostages, the young metahumans who were being experimented on by the Light. He could imagine all too vividly what they might be enduring—the fear, the pain, the helplessness. His scars burned at the thought, a sharp reminder of his own experiences. The idea of anyone, let alone kids, being subjected to such horrors made his stomach churn.
Steeling himself, he pushed those thoughts aside. He couldn't let his emotions get the better of him now. There was a mission to focus on, and those hostages were counting on them.
But a question lingered in Tom's mind, one he couldn't shake. He glanced toward Nightwing, who was coordinating with Miss Martian and Superboy near the holographic display. Summoning his nerve, Tom stepped closer.
"Nightwing," Tom said, his voice steady despite the knot of uncertainty in his chest.
Nightwing turned to face him, his expression curious. "What's up?"
Tom hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Am I... am I part of this mission? And if I am, what exactly am I supposed to wear? I mean, I'm not exactly 'mission-ready' right now." He gestured at his long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants with a faint, self-deprecating smile.
Nightwing smirked faintly, crossing his arms. "Good questions. If you hadn't surprised all of us with how much training you've clearly had in fighting, the answer to your first question would've been 'no.' You're new—barely introduced to the Team. Under normal circumstances, that would've meant sitting this one out."
Tom's stomach tightened slightly, unsure of where this was going.
"But," Nightwing continued, his sharp blue eyes meeting Tom's directly, "between that training, your magic, and Kaelith, it's clear you can hold your own. At the very least, you won't be a hindrance to the Team, and that's what matters. So yes, you're participating. You've earned it."
Tom felt a mix of relief and nerves, but before he could process the weight of those words, Nightwing smirked again. "As for what you're wearing... I was wondering when you'd ask."
Tom blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, you were?"
"Yeah," Nightwing said, turning back to the holographic display briefly before looking at Tom again. "Batman whipped something up for you. Surprised you didn't ask about it earlier, honestly."
"Wait, really?" Tom asked, his surprise evident. "When?"
Nightwing's smirk widened slightly. "Batman doesn't waste time. He'll fill you in when you gear up. But trust me—you'll like it."
Tom nodded slowly, a mix of curiosity and anxiety brewing in his chest. The idea of wearing an actual costume—a real hero suit—felt surreal. Guess I'll find out soon enough, he thought, steeling himself once more as the clock ticked closer to their departure.
The Team gathered in the assembly area where the Bioship was parked, the faint hum of its systems filling the space. Each member was gearing up, securing their suits, checking their equipment, and making final preparations. Tom stood near the edge of the room, watching the process with a mix of awe and nerves.
As he adjusted his gloves, he noticed Batman approaching him, his imposing figure cutting a path through the activity. Tom straightened instinctively, his gaze locking onto the Dark Knight.
"Tom," Batman said, his tone as calm and precise as ever, "I took some liberties with your costume."
Tom blinked, unsure how to respond. "You... did?"
Batman gave a faint nod. "I attempted to design something that aligns with your aesthetic—most importantly, something that would be intimidating."
He stepped aside, gesturing to a nearby platform where the suit was displayed. The sight left Tom momentarily speechless.
The suit was a masterpiece. A trench-coat-inspired jacket served as the centerpiece, its seams glowing faintly with red lines that seemed to shimmer and shift. Beneath it, a fitted, tactical bodysuit hugged the frame, reinforced with lightweight armor plating that balanced protection with mobility.
A utility belt was subtly integrated into the design, complete with small pouches and compartments. The most striking feature, however, was the mask. It was a full, form fitting design that covered his entire head. Featureless, it hinted at the contours of a human face but just barely, giving it an eerie, almost unsettling quality. Around the neck, a scarf was wrapped, its fabric sleek and practical.
Tom stepped closer, his eyes tracing the intricate details of the suit.
Batman continued, his tone measured. "The armor plating provides moderate protection against ballistic and energy-based attacks while maintaining flexibility for combat. The mask is equipped with an integrated HUD and comm system, allowing for enhanced communication and tactical overlays. The teal lines on the coat and suit are powered by a low-energy emitter, tied to your movements and magic usage. They'll brighten subtly when you channel magic, adding to the intimidation factor. It can be disabled for increased stealth capabilities."
Tom nodded, taking in the information as Batman continued.
"The utility belt is modular. You can add or remove compartments based on the mission, and it's designed to carry magical tools or artifacts without compromising mobility. The scarf is reinforced with fiber mesh, making it resistant to cutting or tearing. It's functional but also adds to the overall impression—something that criminals and enemies will remember."
Tom reached out, running a hand along the fabric of the jacket. It felt durable yet lightweight, like it could hold up under serious stress. "This... this is incredible," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Batman's expression didn't shift, but there was a faint glimmer of satisfaction in his tone. "It's yours. Suit up."
Tom nodded, swallowing hard as he took the suit and stepped toward the nearby changing area. As he began to gear up, the weight of what lay ahead settled fully on his shoulders. Every piece of the suit fit perfectly, the snug armor plating giving him a sense of security while the trench-coat-inspired jacket added an unexpected touch of flair. The featureless mask, eerie and intimidating, completed the look, making him feel like a completely different person.
When he finally stepped back into the assembly area, the room quieted for a moment as the Team turned to see him. The faint red glow of his suit's seams shimmered with his movements, catching the dim light of the room. Tom rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers, testing the range of motion. The suit felt natural, like an extension of himself, but he couldn't help but feel the weight of the Team's eyes on him.
"You clean up nice," Nightwing said with a smirk, breaking the silence. "How does it feel?"
Tom twisted at the waist and shifted his legs, testing the flexibility. "Not bad," he replied. "Definitely better than sweatpants."
Miss Martian floated a little closer, her warm smile brightening the room. "It suits you," she said. "The design is unique."
Impulse zipped over, circling Tom quickly before stopping abruptly. "Okay, that's crash! You've got the whole 'mystical and terrifying' vibe going on. Love it."
Tom chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Thanks, I think."
He shifted his focus inward, speaking to Kaelith mentally. "Sorry you don't have one. Guess it's not really fair."
Kaelith's presence flickered in his mind, her tone laced with quiet amusement. "Tom, I can make myself look however I want. I don't need a suit."
Tom smirked under his mask, relieved by her lightheartedness. "Right. I'll remember that next time I'm standing around in a superhero suit."
Kaelith's laughter echoed softly in his mind, steadying him.
Nightwing clapped his hands together, bringing the Team's attention back to him. "Alright, everyone," he began, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Listen up. We've gone over the mission details already, but I want to make sure we're all on the same page before we board the Bioship."
He gestured to the holographic display of the facility that Batman had shown earlier. "We're splitting into teams. Group A will handle the main infiltration, neutralize resistance, and secure the hostages. Group B will focus on intelligence—finding out what the Light's been up to and ensuring nothing important gets left behind. Both groups will rendezvous for extraction once the facility is secured."
He glanced around the room, his sharp gaze settling briefly on each member. "This is a high-risk mission. Stay alert, communicate, and watch each other's backs. We don't leave anyone behind."
The Team nodded, their collective resolve palpable. Tom felt a surge of adrenaline as the reality of the mission set in. He adjusted his scarf slightly, the smooth fabric reassuring under his touch.
Nightwing turned toward the Bioship, motioning for everyone to board. "Let's move out."
As the Team filed onto the ship, Tom lingered for a moment, taking one last steadying breath. This was it—his first mission as a member of the Team. He squared his shoulders, the faint glow of his suit casting shadows on the floor, and followed the others aboard.
The night was quiet, almost unnervingly so. The mercenary tightened his grip on his rifle, the weapon cool against his gloved hands. His boots crunched softly on the gravel path as he walked the perimeter of the facility, his eyes scanning the dark expanse beyond the fencing. The air was heavy, a faint hum of distant machinery the only sound aside from his own movements.
His radio crackled faintly, the voice on the other end monotone and routine. "Perimeter patrol, report status."
"All clear," he responded, his voice low but steady. He tapped the side of his headset to adjust the volume, his gaze flickering to the faint glow of the facility in the distance. Another shift, another dull night.
He glanced to his left, where his partner had been walking just moments ago. "You see anything?" he asked casually, keeping his eyes forward.
Silence.
The merc frowned, turning his head to check on his teammate. The other man was gone.
"Riley?" he called, his voice louder this time. No response. He stopped walking, his grip on his rifle tightening as a prickle of unease crept up his spine. He turned in a slow circle, his flashlight cutting through the darkness in sharp beams, revealing nothing but the empty expanse of the perimeter.
"Riley, this isn't funny," he muttered, his voice low but strained. His radio crackled again, but this time, there was no voice on the other end—just static.
Then he saw it—a flicker in the shadows.
At first, it was barely noticeable, a subtle shift in the darkness at the edge of his vision. But as he turned his flashlight toward it, the beam seemed to falter, the shadows twisting unnaturally as if alive. His chest tightened, the flashlight trembling slightly in his grasp.
"Who's there?" he demanded, his voice cracking slightly despite himself.
The shadows flickered again, closer this time. He took a step back, raising his rifle instinctively. The flashlight flickered once, twice, and then went out completely, plunging the area into suffocating darkness.
His breath quickened, his pulse pounding in his ears. He fumbled for his backup light, his fingers shaking as he switched it on. The beam cut through the darkness, landing on... nothing.
Then he heard it—a soft, almost imperceptible whisper, like the rustle of fabric against stone. He spun toward the sound, his rifle at the ready. "Show yourself!" he barked, his voice a poor mask for the panic clawing at his throat.
A figure emerged from the shadows, silent and deliberate. The merc's breath hitched as his light landed on the featureless mask, its contours barely hinting at a human face. The faint red glow of lines tracing the figure's suit shimmered like cracks in reality.
Before he could react, a dark tendril of magic shot out from the figure's hand, wrapping around his wrist and yanking the rifle from his grasp. The weapon clattered to the ground, the sound echoing like a death knell in the still night.
He tried to move, to reach for his sidearm, but his body froze, paralyzed by an unseen force. The figure stepped closer, the faint red glow intensifying as its presence filled the space with an oppressive weight.
"W-what are you?" the mercenary managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper.
The figure tilted its head slightly, the mask's blankness somehow more terrifying than any expression.
Another tendril of magic shot out, wrapping around the mercenary's chest and pinning him to the ground. He struggled, but his limbs refused to obey, his body locked in place as the shadows around him seemed to deepen.
The last thing he saw before darkness consumed him was the figure leaning closer, its voice low and cold as it finally spoke:
"Sleep."
And then everything went black.
The mercenary crumpled to the ground, his body limp but alive. Tom stood over him, his breaths steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The faint red glow of his suit dimmed as the tendrils of magic receded, melting back into the shadows like smoke.
"Last perimeter guard neutralized," Tom murmured into his comms, his voice low and controlled. "Perimeter is clear."
Nightwing's voice crackled through his earpiece, calm and precise as always. "Good work, Riftwalker. Proceed to your designated entry point and hold position. We're almost in place."
"Understood," Tom replied, adjusting the scarf around his neck as he stepped away from the unconscious guard. He crouched briefly, ensuring the man was restrained and wouldn't be able to alert anyone once he regained consciousness. A faint shimmer of magic sealed the bindings, a precaution against any unexpected surprises.
Kaelith's presence flickered in his mind, her tone light but laced with approval. "Efficient. Almost theatrical. I think you're getting the hang of this."
Tom smirked faintly under his mask. "Thanks. Not exactly how I imagined my first covert mission going, but hey, here we are."
"You're doing fine, Tom. Just stay focused."
Tom straightened, scanning the area one last time before slipping back into the shadows. The perimeter was eerily quiet now, the only sounds the faint hum of the facility in the distance and the occasional crackle of static from his comms.
As Tom moved toward his assigned position, his boots crunched softly against the gravel path, the cold night air biting. The facility loomed in the distance, a grotesque blend of industrial pragmatism and eerie sterility. Its exterior was a series of squat, reinforced buildings, each one connected by elevated walkways and segmented with imposing metal fences topped with razor wire. Harsh floodlights swept methodically across the grounds, casting sharp shadows that seemed almost alive as they danced over the concrete.
Tom's mind raced with thoughts of what lay inside. The facility wasn't just a prison; it was a nightmare factory, a place where young metahumans were abducted and subjected to unspeakable experiments in the name of the Light's agenda. He could almost hear the muffled cries, the cold hum of machines, the clinical detachment of the scientists behind it all.
His scars burned at the thought, a physical echo of his own experiences. The memories of pain, fear, and helplessness clawed at the edges of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. He clenched his fists, the faint red glow of his suit shimmering as he drew in a sharp breath.
Focus, he reminded himself, shaking off the creeping dread. This wasn't the time to get lost in his own head.
Tom stayed low as he made his way toward the rendezvous point, his movements quick and deliberate. The glow of the facility's floodlights didn't reach this far into the shadows, and he used the darkness to his advantage, his suit blending seamlessly into the environment.
"Team A, moving to the west entry," Nightwing's voice crackled through his comm. "Riftwalker, link up with us at the service access point. Team B, proceed to the secondary objective."
Tom nodded to himself, his grip tightening on the edge of a fence as he scaled it silently. "Understood," he whispered back, his voice low but steady.
Kaelith's presence flickered in his mind, her tone calm but with a hint of humor. "You're quite good at this sneaking around business."
Tom thought back. "Failure really isn't an option here."
The service access point was a narrow, recessed area on the west side of the facility, hidden between two imposing buildings. As Tom rounded the corner, he spotted Nightwing crouched near a locked security door, his fingers deftly working on the control panel. Miss Martian hovered just above the ground nearby, her expression focused, while Superboy stood watch, his imposing figure a silent warning to anyone who might stumble upon them.
"Riftwalker, you're with us," Nightwing said without looking up, his voice clipped but steady. "We're heading in as soon as I disable this lock."
Tom nodded, moving to join the group. "What about Team B?"
Miss Martian glanced over, her tone calm. "They're creating a diversion on the east side, drawing attention away from our entry point."
"Impulse and Blue Beetle are handling it," Nightwing added, his tone lightening slightly. "If anyone can cause chaos in a controlled way, it's those two."
Tom exhaled softly, imagining the scene. "That's... comforting."
Kaelith's laughter echoed faintly in his mind. "It's a bold strategy. Let's hope it works."
On the east side of the facility, Impulse zipped through the shadows, his movements so fast they barely registered on the security cameras. He grinned as he planted a series of small, non-lethal EMP charges along the facility's power grid. Behind him, Raven emerged silently from the darkness, her shadowy aura blending seamlessly with the night.
"Ready when you are, Blue," Impulse said into his comm, his tone filled with barely-contained excitement. He turned to glance at Raven, his grin widening. "You ready to unleash some spooky magic if things go sideways?"
Raven raised an eyebrow, her voice calm and measured. "I'm always ready. Let's just hope your 'crash' plan doesn't need my intervention."
Impulse smirked but said nothing, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Blue Beetle's voice crackled through the comms. "Charges set. On my mark."
Raven hovered slightly, her hands glowing faintly with dark energy as she scanned the area. "Guards are starting to move," she said quietly, her tone warning. "We need to act now before they regroup."
"Three... two... one... mark!" Blue Beetle counted down.
The EMP charges detonated in a coordinated sequence, sending sparks flying and temporarily disabling the facility's eastern security grid. Lights flickered, alarms blared, and automated defenses scrambled to reboot. Guards rushed toward the disturbance, their shouts echoing across the compound.
"Distraction in full effect," Blue Beetle said, retreating into the shadows. "You're clear, Team A."
Back on the west side, the lock on the security door clicked, and Nightwing gave a satisfied nod. "We're in."
The door slid open with a soft hiss, and the group filed inside, moving quickly and silently through the dimly lit hallway. The interior was as cold and clinical as the exterior suggested—stark white walls, fluorescent lighting, and the faint hum of machinery.
Miss Martian took point, her telepathic abilities sweeping the area for any signs of hostiles. Superboy followed close behind, his fists clenched and ready for action.
Tom brought up the rear, his magic humming faintly as he kept an eye on their surroundings. The facility's oppressive atmosphere weighed on him, every step a reminder of what might be happening to the hostages they were here to rescue.
Nightwing raised a hand, signaling the group to halt as they approached a junction. He glanced back at Tom, his voice low. "This is where things get tricky. Miss Martian, scout ahead and confirm the location of the hostages. Superboy, you're on overwatch. Riftwalker, you're with me."
Tom nodded, his pulse quickening as he fell into step with Nightwing. The mission was in full swing now, and the weight of what they were about to do settled heavily on his shoulders. There was no turning back.
"Let's move," Nightwing said, his voice firm.
Together, they stepped deeper into the facility, the cold, sterile halls stretching out before them like a labyrinth of danger.
Tom's boots moved silently against the cold, tiled floor, his steps careful and deliberate. The faint red glow of his suit dimmed as he focused on blending into the shadows. Nightwing led the way, his movements precise and calculated, with Miss Martian scouting ahead through her telepathic link.
"There are two guards around the corner," Miss Martian's voice echoed in their minds. "Armed but distracted."
Nightwing gave a quick series of hand signals, directing Superboy to take the left while he and Tom approached from the right. Tom nodded, his pulse steady as he moved into position.
The two guards stood near a control panel, their weapons slung loosely over their shoulders as they spoke in low tones. They seemed unaware of the intruders, their attention focused on a nearby monitor displaying a security feed.
Tom reached out with his magic, letting tendrils of shadow creep along the floor toward the guards. The tendrils snaked up the walls and coiled around the light fixtures, dimming the already faint glow. One of the guards glanced up, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"What the—" he began, but before he could finish, Tom's magic surged forward, pinning him against the wall. The second guard barely had time to react before Nightwing's escrima sticks struck, their electrified tips rendering him unconscious in an instant.
"Guards neutralized," Nightwing said quietly, nodding toward Tom. "Good work."
Tom exhaled, his magic retreating back into his body. "Thanks," he murmured, glancing at the disabled guards. "I'll secure them."
With a flick of his wrist, dark tendrils wrapped around the guards' wrists and ankles, holding them firmly in place. Miss Martian floated into the room, her gaze scanning the control panel.
"I've disabled the nearest cameras," she said, her hands glowing faintly as she interfaced with the system telepathically. "We should have a clear path for the next fifty meters."
Superboy stepped forward, his arms crossed as he glanced at the unconscious guards. "We're going to need to move fast. It won't take long for someone to notice the cameras are down."
Nightwing nodded, his sharp gaze already scanning the map on his wrist-mounted device. "We're close to the main lab. If we can secure the hostages and get them to safety, the rest of the facility won't matter."
The Team moved deeper into the facility, the air growing colder and the faint hum of machinery growing louder. Every few meters, they encountered more security measures—cameras, automated turrets, and patrolling guards. Each obstacle was dealt with swiftly and silently.
Tom took down another guard with a well-placed strike, his movements fluid and practiced. As the man fell, Tom bound him with his magic, ensuring he wouldn't raise an alarm. The act felt mechanical, but each subdual brought a growing sense of urgency.
"Clear," Tom whispered, glancing back at Nightwing.
"Keep moving," Nightwing replied, his voice calm but firm.
The group reached a set of double doors marked with the Light's ominous symbol. Miss Martian paused, her hand pressed to her temple as her eyes glowed faintly. "I sense multiple hostages inside, but there's also... something else. I can't tell what it is, but it's powerful."
Nightwing's jaw tightened. "Stay sharp. We'll need to move fast once we breach. Riftwalker, be ready to use your magic to contain anything that gets loose."
Tom nodded, his pulse quickening. "Got it."
Superboy stepped forward, his fists clenched. "I'll handle the heavy lifting."
"On my mark," Nightwing said, positioning himself at the door. "Miss Martian, be ready to shield the hostages. Superboy, breach the doors. Riftwalker, back us up."
The Team took their positions, the air thick with anticipation. Tom's magic coiled around him like a living thing, ready to strike the moment the doors opened.
"Mark," Nightwing ordered.
The doors groaned and buckled under Superboy's fists, the heavy metal tearing apart with a screech that echoed through the sterile halls. The Team surged forward into the main lab, their focus sharp and their movements precise.
The room was vast, illuminated by cold, fluorescent lights. Rows of glass containment pods lined the walls, each one holding a young metahuman, their faces pale and their bodies connected to a web of tubes and wires. The hum of machinery filled the air, a mechanical heartbeat underscoring the oppressive atmosphere.
Miss Martian floated forward, her glowing hands raised as she scanned the room. "The hostages are alive, but their vitals are weak. We need to move quickly."
Nightwing nodded, his escrima sticks drawn. "Superboy, secure the hostages. Riftwalker, keep an eye on the entrance. Miss Martian, see if you can disable these systems."
As the Team moved into position, the room shuddered slightly, a low rumble reverberating through the walls. Tom's instincts flared, and Kaelith's voice flickered in his mind. "Something's coming. Be ready."
Before he could respond, a section of the wall near the far end of the lab exploded inward, sending debris flying. The Team shielded themselves as the dust cleared, revealing a figure stepping through the rubble.
The mercenary was tall and imposing, clad in black armor with a faint metallic sheen. Electricity crackled along their gauntlets, the faint glow illuminating their helmeted face. A low, distorted voice echoed from the helmet as they surveyed the intruders.
"Well, well," the mercenary said, their tone laced with mockery. "Looks like we've got some uninvited guests. Didn't your bosses tell you to stay out of our business?"
Nightwing stepped forward, his stance steady. "Stand down. You don't have to do this."
The mercenary chuckled darkly, shaking their head. "I think I do. You're not leaving here with my cargo." They raised an armored hand, electricity arcing between their fingers before shooting toward the Team.
Miss Martian reacted instantly, throwing up a telekinetic shield that absorbed the blast. "Get the hostages out!" she called.
Superboy charged toward the containment pods, ripping open the glass casings with controlled force. Tom moved to assist, his magic snaking out to sever the tubes and wires binding the hostages. Each young metahuman they freed was barely conscious, their bodies weak from whatever experiments they had endured.
The mercenary didn't let up, their attacks growing more ferocious. They launched another wave of electricity, this time targeting Superboy. The Kryptonian braced himself, the energy slamming into his chest but doing little more than making him stumble.
"You'll have to do better than that," Superboy growled, stepping forward.
The mercenary smirked beneath their helmet and raised both hands, the air around them crackling with energy. "Oh, I intend to."
Nightwing darted forward, his escrima sticks glowing faintly as he closed the distance. He struck with precision, aiming for pressure points, but the mercenary moved with equal skill, deflecting each blow with bursts of electricity that sent sparks flying.
Tom kept his focus on the hostages, his magic working quickly to free them. Kaelith's voice flickered in his mind again, urgent but steady. "Tom, they can't hold this fight forever."
Tom glanced toward the chaos, his jaw tightening. Nightwing was holding his own, but the mercenary's power was overwhelming, forcing the Team leader to stay on the defensive. Miss Martian was shielding Superboy and the freed hostages from stray blasts, but the strain was evident in her expression.
Tom took a deep breath, his magic flaring to life around him. "I'm on it," he thought back, his resolve hardening.
"Miss Martian, shield the hostages!" Tom called out, stepping away from the group. His red-lit suit glowed faintly as he moved toward the fight, his hands crackling with energy.
The mercenary turned their attention to him, their smirk audible even through their voice modulator. "And who might you be?"
The mercenary's armored hand crackled with electricity as they raised it toward Tom, but he was already moving. Red energy surged along his arms, coalescing into a blast of raw force that shot forward like a living bolt of lightning. The impact struck the merc squarely in the chest, sending them hurtling backward into the wall with a deafening crash.
The wall cracked under the force, fragments of concrete and metal scattering across the floor. The merc groaned but quickly regained their composure, the electricity around them sparking erratically as they pushed themselves upright.
Tom didn't wait for the merc to recover. "Kaelith, I need a distraction," he murmured under his breath, already turning toward the hostages.
Kaelith's presence flickered in his mind, her tone amused but steady. "Oh, I can handle that."
A moment later, the air near the merc seemed to twist and darken. From the shadows, Kaelith's demon form emerged, her tall, imposing figure framed by an aura of flickering light and shadow. Her eyes glowed a deep crimson, her tear-like scars now dark rivulets against her luminescent skin. Long, clawed fingers flexed as she stepped forward, the faint sound of her movements like a whisper in the air. Her wings, jagged and shadowy, unfurled slightly, creating an imposing silhouette.
The merc froze mid-struggle, their eyes widening behind their helmet as they took a reflexive step back. "What the hell—?"
Before they could respond, the shadows around her surged forward, twisting into tendrils that lashed out, wrapping around the merc's arms and legs. The electricity crackling around their armor faltered briefly as they fought against the shadowy restraints, their snarls of frustration echoing in the cavernous room.
"You're not going anywhere," Kaelith hissed, her voice low and predatory.
Tom spared a glance over his shoulder as he worked, the sight of Kaelith in her full demonic form momentarily arresting. Even knowing she was on his side, the sheer presence she commanded was enough to send a chill down his spine. He couldn't help but feel a flicker of gratitude that her fury wasn't directed at him.
Kaelith's voice echoed in his mind, softer now but firm. "Focus on the hostages. I'll keep them busy."
Tom nodded, snapping himself back to the task at hand. He turned to the hostages, his magic glowing faintly as he worked to free them from their restraints. Miss Martian hovered nearby, her telekinesis lifting several unconscious metahumans at once. Superboy stood guard, his fists clenched as he kept watch for any additional threats.
"How's she doing that?" Superboy muttered, his eyes darting to Kaelith, who was weaving through the merc's erratic attacks with unnerving precision.
"She's buying us time," Tom replied tightly, severing the last of the tubes connecting a young girl to the machinery. "Let's not waste it."
Behind them, the mercenary roared, their electricity surging as they managed to tear free from one of Kaelith's tendrils. "You think you can scare me?!" they shouted, their voice cracking with frustration. "You're just another freak!"
Kaelith's lips curled into a sharp smile, her glowing eyes narrowing. "Then why do you sound so afraid?"
The shadows surged again, slamming the merc against the wall and pinning them in place. Their armor sparked wildly, but Kaelith's grip didn't falter.
Miss Martian's voice broke through the tension. "The hostages are stable, but we need to move. I can carry them, but we'll need cover."
"Superboy, take point," Nightwing ordered, his escrima sticks spinning in his hands. "Tom, stay close and keep your magic ready."
Tom nodded, glancing back at Kaelith. Her presence filled the room with a commanding intensity, her form both terrifying and awe-inspiring. "You good?" he asked her mentally.
"I'll handle this one," she replied, her voice as calm as if she weren't battling a raging mercenary.
With a final glance at her, Tom turned and followed the Team, his magic ready to defend their retreat. The hostages' safety was their priority now, but the sight of Kaelith holding her own against the merc filled him with both relief and unease.
The Team moved swiftly through the stark, sterile hallways of the facility, the unconscious hostages in tow. Miss Martian floated ahead, her telekinesis carefully carrying several of the metahumans, while Superboy carried two over his broad shoulders with ease. Nightwing led the way, his sharp eyes scanning for threats as he kept one hand on his communicator.
"Team B," Nightwing said, his voice low but urgent over the comms, "what's your status? Did you uncover anything? We're heading for the exit and need you to meet us outside."
Impulse's voice crackled through the line, his usual energy dampened slightly by the seriousness of the mission. "We're almost done! Found a server room and snagged some juicy intel. Blue Beetle's finishing the download now, Raven is keeping a lookout."
"Make it fast," Nightwing replied, his tone clipped. "The facility is on high alert, and we're running out of time."
As if on cue, the sharp sound of boots pounding against the tiled floors echoed down the corridor behind them. Tom glanced back and saw a group of armed guards rounding the corner, their rifles raised and ready.
"Contact!" he shouted, stepping to the rear of the group. His magic flared instinctively, red tendrils of energy crackling to life around his hands.
The guards opened fire, the hallway erupting in a cacophony of gunfire and shouts. Tom threw up a shimmering barrier of magic, the red energy rippling like a living wall as it absorbed the initial barrage of bullets. Sparks flew as rounds impacted the barrier, the force of each strike making Tom grit his teeth.
"Keep moving!" Nightwing called, motioning for the Team to pick up the pace. "Riftwalker, cover the rear!"
Tom nodded, his focus razor-sharp as he held the barrier steady. "Go! I'll hold them off!"
The guards advanced, their coordinated fire pounding against the magical shield. Tom's arms shook under the strain, his breaths coming quicker as he poured more energy into maintaining the barrier. He sent a blast of red energy toward the guards, forcing them to scatter and buy the Team a few precious seconds.
But then, a lucky shot slipped through the edge of the barrier, grazing Tom's shoulder. The force of the impact made him stumble, pain flaring sharp and immediate as the round tore through his suit. He hissed in pain but quickly recovered, his magic surging again to plug the gap in the shield.
"Move!" Nightwing barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Tom turned and sprinted after the Team, his shoulder throbbing with every step. The guards continued their pursuit, their shouts growing louder as they closed the distance. Nightwing tossed a smoke pellet behind them, the hallway filling with a thick, choking cloud that slowed the guards' advance.
The Team rounded another corner, the exit finally in sight. Miss Martian glanced back at Tom, her expression concerned but focused. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Tom panted, his voice tight. "Just keep moving."
Superboy slammed open the heavy metal door at the end of the hallway, the cool night air rushing in as they spilled out into the open. The faint hum of the Bioship waiting nearby was a welcome sound, but the tension was far from over.
Nightwing raised his communicator again, his tone urgent. "Team B, we're outside. Meet us at the extraction point immediately."
Tom gritted his teeth, his shoulder aching as he reinforced the glowing red barrier with a flick of his hands. Superboy stood guard near the entrance, his gaze locked on the hallway, ready to intercept anyone who dared approach.
The Team moved quickly, the cold night air a welcome reprieve from the sterile confines of the facility. They darted between cover, their steps quick and purposeful. Tom kept his magic at the ready, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings for any sign of pursuit.
"Team B," Nightwing said into his communicator as they moved, "we're en route to your location. What's your status?"
Impulse's voice crackled through the comm, his usual enthusiasm slightly muted by the situation. "We're good! Got the intel, and we're almost at the extraction point. Beetle's being super thorough—he didn't want to leave anything behind."
"Typical," Nightwing replied, his tone dry. "Hold tight."
The Team pressed on, the sounds of distant gunfire and shouting growing fainter behind them. Tom's shoulder throbbed with every step, but he forced himself to stay focused. The hostages were safe for now, and that was all that mattered.
They reached the outer perimeter of the facility, where Team B was waiting near a makeshift cover of abandoned shipping containers. Impulse waved them over, his expression lighting up as he saw them approach.
"Hey, you made it!" he called, his voice carrying just enough levity to break the tension.
Blue Beetle glanced up from his position near a terminal, his armored suit gleaming faintly in the moonlight. "We've got the data," he said, holding up a small drive. "Lots of encrypted files, but the gist is clear: this place was bad news."
Raven, who had remained quiet for most of the mission, stepped closer, her shadowy magic receding slightly as she surveyed the hostages. "We need to move quickly. The guards will regroup soon."
Tom felt Kaelith's presence stir in his mind. Her tone flickered with a mix of satisfaction and weariness. "Distraction duty complete. Our electrified friend isn't going to be chasing anyone for a while."
Tom let out a small breath of relief, his shoulders easing slightly. "You're good to come back now," he thought, his voice warm but tinged with fatigue. "Thanks for holding them off."
"Always."
A swirl of shadowy energy materialized beside him, coalescing into Kaelith's demon form. Her glowing eyes shimmered faintly in the low light, her long tendrils of darkness retracting back into her as she stepped closer. The faint scars along her features caught the moonlight.
Kaelith smirked faintly, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her shoulder. "I kept him busy. Not sure how long he'll stay down, but it's long enough."
Nightwing glanced at her briefly, his sharp eyes taking in her form but saying nothing as he returned his focus to the mission. Superboy gave her a quick nod of acknowledgment, while Miss Martian offered a faint smile of gratitude.
Tom grinned faintly beneath his mask, feeling her steady presence calm the lingering adrenaline in his system. "You're amazing," he murmured under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.
Kaelith's smirk widened.
Raven, standing nearby, gave Kaelith a curious glance but said nothing, her shadowy aura flickering faintly in response.
"We've done what we came here for" Nightwing stated, his voice calm but focused as he scanned the area one last time. "Let's move. Bioship is waiting."
The Team moved swiftly, herding the rescued hostages toward the extraction point. Tom stayed close to Kaelith, his shoulder still aching but manageable now that the immediate danger had passed. Kaelith walked beside him, her aura of dark energy flickering faintly, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings for any lingering threats.
Impulse jogged alongside the group, his usual boundless energy tempered by the seriousness of the mission. "Got to admit, for a place this creepy, you guys made it out in record time."
Blue Beetle brought up the rear, his armor glowing faintly as he secured the encrypted data drive in a compartment on his arm. "I still can't believe the extent of what they were doing here. This place needs to stay off the grid permanently."
"Agreed," Nightwing said as the Team reached the Bioship. Its organic form shimmered faintly in the moonlight, the hatch already open in preparation for a quick departure. "Beetle, hand off that drive once we're back. I want a full breakdown."
"You got it," Blue Beetle replied as he stepped inside.
Miss Martian guided the hostages aboard, her telepathic reassurances keeping them calm. "You're safe now," she said gently, helping one of the more injured captives onto a bench. "We'll get you the help you need."
As the last of the group boarded, Superboy secured the perimeter, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of pursuit. "No movement. We're clear."
"Good," Nightwing said, stepping onto the ship. "M'gann, take us up. Get some altitude before heading back."
The Bioship hummed to life, its interior bathed in soft, ambient light as it ascended smoothly into the sky. Tom leaned back in his seat, his body finally relaxing as the adrenaline began to ebb. He watched as Kaelith settled beside him, her presence a reassuring constant amid the chaos.
Nightwing moved toward the cockpit, his comm link already active. "I'm contacting Batman."
A brief moment later, Batman's deep, calm voice came through. "Report."
"Mission successful," Nightwing said, his tone steady. "Hostages are secure, and the facility has been neutralized. Beetle recovered a significant amount of intel. Sending it to Oracle now."
"Good work," Batman replied. "What's the status of the hostages?"
"Some injuries, but no fatalities," Nightwing reported. "They'll need medical attention."
"Understood," Batman said, his tone decisive. "Take the hostages to the Watchtower. It's equipped with the medical staff and facilities to handle their treatment. They'll be secure there."
"Copy that," Nightwing confirmed. He ended the call and turned back to the team. "Change of plans. We're taking the hostages to the Watchtower. Batman wants them treated there."
Miss Martian nodded from the pilot's seat. "Adjusting course now."
The Bioship shifted smoothly, banking toward the sky as it ascended toward the stars. The hostages sat quietly, some leaning against one another for support while others looked out the window, the fear in their eyes gradually giving way to relief.
Nightwing glanced around the interior of the Bioship, his sharp eyes landing on Blue Beetle. "Beetle, grab the medkit from the storage compartment. Let's start treating wounds while we head to the Watchtower."
"On it," Blue Beetle replied, moving to the rear compartment. A small panel slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a compact medkit. He brought it over to Nightwing, who had already started assessing the Team's condition.
Nightwing turned his gaze to Tom, who was sitting stiffly, one hand pressed lightly against his shoulder. "Tom, let's take a look at that."
Tom hesitated, glancing briefly at Kaelith, who gave him a sharp nod of encouragement. "Fine," he muttered, his voice tinged with reluctant humor. "Can't let you guys have all the fun patching me up."
"Off with the top portion of the suit," Nightwing said, his tone brisk but not unkind. "We need to check for any damage before it gets worse."
Tom hesitated as his fingers hovered over the edges of his suit. He glanced around the Bioship, his shoulders tense. "Uh… just a heads-up," he muttered, his voice quieter than usual. "I'm a little… self-conscious. It's not exactly a pretty sight."
Blue Beetle glanced up from where he was securing the medkit. "Brother, you're shredded. No need to hide your nonexistent tummy," he quipped, his voice light and teasing.
Tom couldn't help but chuckle softly at the comment, though his tension didn't ease. "Yeah, well…" He took a deep breath and pulled off the top portion of his suit, revealing his torso for the first time.
The room fell silent.
His chest and back were a brutal tapestry of scars, each one a lingering testament to suffering endured and survived. Angry red burns, their edges still raw, sprawled across his skin in uneven patches, the result of deliberate, calculated torment. Jagged lines from deep cuts carved chaotic paths across his torso, some clean and precise, others erratic and desperate, as if made to inflict as much pain as possible. Puncture wounds peppered his shoulders and sides, circular and unnaturally symmetrical, the unmistakable marks of instruments designed to penetrate and cause agony.
Impulse broke the silence first. "God damn," he muttered, his usual levity completely absent. His wide eyes darted over Tom's torso, taking in the story told by every scar.
Nightwing cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the tense silence. "Let's bandage that up," he said calmly, though there was a softness to his tone now. He grabbed a fresh antiseptic wipe from the kit. "We can't let any of these open wounds get infected."
Tom nodded, but his movements were stiff as he sat back down. "Told you it wasn't pretty," he said, his voice low.
Raven, who had been standing quietly at the edge of the group, stepped forward, her hands glowing faintly with her dark magic. "I might be able to help with the pain," she offered, her voice steady but gentle. "And speed up the healing process if you'll let me."
Tom blinked, caught off guard by her tone. "Uh… sure. If it's not too much trouble."
Raven knelt beside him, her shadowy aura flickering faintly as she extended her hands toward his injured shoulder. "This might feel… strange," she warned softly before her magic washed over the wound.
A soothing warmth spread through Tom's shoulder, dulling the ache and tightening the edges of the torn skin as Raven worked. Her magic seemed to sink into his body, stitching the raw edges together with a precision that felt almost unnatural. When she finished, the worst of the pain had eased, and the wound was clean and well on its way to healing.
"Thanks," Tom said quietly, his voice tinged with gratitude.
Raven nodded, her expression neutral but understanding. "You're welcome."
Raven stood gracefully, her shadowy aura fading slightly as she turned toward the hostages seated nearby. "I'll check the hostages for injuries I may be able to treat," she said, her voice calm but purposeful.
Nightwing watched Raven move toward the hostages, then turned back to Tom. He crouched slightly to meet his gaze, his voice quiet but filled with steady conviction. "Tom, listen to me. Those scars? They don't make you weak. They're proof that you've survived things most people couldn't imagine."
Tom looked away, his jaw tightening. "Yeah, but surviving doesn't always feel like winning."
Nightwing tilted his head, his tone softening. "Maybe not. But they show you're still here, still fighting. That means something. Scars don't just tell a story of pain—they tell a story of strength."
Tom's lips twitched in a faint smile, though the emotion behind it was conflicted. "Thanks. I guess it's hard to see it that way when you're the one carrying them."
Nightwing nodded, his sharp eyes locking onto Tom's. "Trust me, I get that. We all carry scars, even if they're not visible."
Tom exhaled, the weight of the words settling into him as he gave a small nod. "I'll keep that in mind."
Miss Martian's voice interrupted gently from the cockpit, her tone steady but urgent. "We're approaching the Watchtower now. ETA is two minutes."
The Team stirred, preparing for their arrival. Miss Martian gently guided the Bioship into its final approach, the stars outside shifting as the gleaming silhouette of the Watchtower came into view—a beacon of hope and safety against the vastness of space.
Impulse leaned over to peer out of one of the windows, his usual energy creeping back into his voice. "Man, it never gets old seeing this place. Like something straight out of a sci-fi movie."
Blue Beetle smirked faintly as he double-checked the encrypted drive he carried. "Yeah, let's just hope the medics are ready for what we're bringing in."
Tom glanced at the hostages, their faces a mixture of relief and exhaustion as they clung to the hope of safety. Raven moved among them, her hands glowing faintly as she tended to minor injuries and whispered quiet reassurances.
The Bioship hummed as it docked with the Watchtower, the airlock sealing with a quiet hiss. Miss Martian's voice carried back to the group, gentle but firm. "We're here. Let's get everyone inside and into the medbay."
Nightwing stood, his commanding presence bringing focus to the moment. "Alright, everyone. Let's move. Hostages first. Team, stay alert—let's not relax until everyone is secure."
As the ramp lowered, the glow of the Watchtower's interior spilled into the Bioship, bathing the group in warm, steady light. The Team moved as one, guiding the hostages carefully out of the ship and into the care of waiting League medics.
A few hours later, the Watchtower was quiet, save for the hum of advanced medical equipment and the low voices of medics tending to the rescued hostages. The tension that had gripped the Team during the mission had finally eased, replaced with the calm certainty that the hostages were safe and recovering.
Nightwing leaned against the edge of a console in the Watchtower's briefing room, his arms crossed as he finished a detailed debriefing with Batman. The Dark Knight, having just returned from leading a strike on another Light facility, stood in his usual imposing stance, his sharp eyes locked on Nightwing as he listened intently.
"Clean extraction," Nightwing concluded, his voice steady. "No fatalities, and we recovered key intel. Blue Beetle handed it off to Oracle for analysis."
Batman gave a curt nod, his tone low but approving. "Good work. This was a coordinated effort on both ends. The disruption at the secondary facility hit them hard. The intel from your mission will give us leverage to dig deeper into their operations."
Nightwing straightened. "Any word on casualties at the League's end?"
"No casualties," Batman replied. "The Light wasn't expecting us to split our focus. It worked to our advantage."
Nightwing exhaled, his posture relaxing slightly. "Glad to hear it."
In the medical bay, Tom sat on the edge of a padded table as a League medic gave his injuries one last check. His earlier bandages had been removed, replaced with a fresh set after Raven's healing magic and proper cleaning had done their job.
"You're good to go," the medic said, offering a faint smile. "I'd still recommend you take it easy for a few days."
Tom nodded, rolling his shoulder tentatively and feeling only a dull ache where sharp pain had been hours before. "Thanks. I'll do my best."
Kaelith, leaning casually against the wall nearby, smirked. "You mean you'll try not to get shot again before tomorrow."
Tom shot her a glance, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "Exactly."
As the Team regrouped in the Watchtower's main hangar, Miss Martian piloted the Bioship into position. Nightwing arrived moments later, his usual calm composure intact as he addressed the group.
"The League medics have everything under control here," he said. "The hostages are in good hands, and the intel is being analyzed. Batman's given the go-ahead for us to head back to Mount Justice for some much-needed downtime. We'll reconvene tomorrow for a full debrief."
Impulse, leaning casually against a nearby railing, let out a dramatic sigh. "Finally. A chance to crash. I mean, like, actual sleep. Not, you know, crashing into bad guys."
Blue Beetle chuckled as he adjusted his armor. "Let's hope the next mission isn't this intense."
Superboy nodded, his expression neutral but satisfied. "We got the job done. That's what matters."
Tom stood quietly near the ramp of the Bioship, his gaze flicking toward Nightwing as the leader turned to him. "You're part of this team now, Tom," Nightwing said, his voice carrying a note of encouragement. "You handled yourself out there, scars and all. Rest up—we'll need everyone sharp for whatever's next."
Tom hesitated, then nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks, Nightwing. I won't let you down."
The Team boarded the Bioship, their movements slower and more relaxed now that the mission was behind them. As the hatch sealed and the ship lifted off, the Watchtower receded into the distance, leaving the heroes to the quiet hum of the journey home.
AN: Howdy! This is the longest chapter I've written so far lol, I was tempted to split it up into two separate chapters for convenience, but I wrote it as a large scene originally and I didn't want to split it up. I try to aim for around 20 pages a chapter, this one is about 40.
Additionally, I take pride in making my writing decent to good quality (I hope lol) but it's gotten to the point where this story is 500 plus pages(I'm sitting on a big surplus). I usually write my most recent additions in a "working scene" document before reading it over then tossing it in the main story document. Which for the most part works out pretty well. But to be honest, I dislike editing lol. It's not cash money. But I know it's necessary for a good story, but man does it blow. If any of you notice grammar issues, flaws where my writing is inconsistent or just does not make sense let me know because it's easier for me to find then scan through 500 pages of my story that I've read way too many times. A couple of you have already let me know of some inconsistencies which I hope to one day get around to fixing but I'm lazy lol. Good comments/reviews are welcome too, everyone likes their work to be complimented. Finally, I have posted another Fanfic called "Visions Of Reach", a Halo fic. It's not going to be my main focus but something I work on when I need a break from "Through The Rift".