đđđđ 195 - EP.14
đđđđ 195-masterlist
The alarm clock rings at 5 AM, and the day is already marked on the calendar: another start of the school year at Gotham Academy, and as always, the impeccable uniform, natural hair, no disguise.
Today you are just yourself: (Name) (Surname), not (Hero), no civilian disguise, just you as you came into the world, with your bag ready, and the choker resting camouflaged with a different design. Lucky for you to be someone who wears accessories, so people don't ask why.
At 6:30, you were getting out of your father's car. You cross the courtyard in silence. The desire to be home, far from here, doing nothing, is almost physical. I mean, you wouldn't do anything anywayâor rather, you'd do what you always do: compose, release music using Vocaloid, which earns you a quiet and necessary income, especially for the future when you'd need it without depending on your parents. It's good to have that, since a part-time job is impossible with the double life of a vigilante. Besides, there's the secret training, hidden from your parents. Your body is still young, so having the strength you had in some timelines was quite difficult and time-consuming to achieve.
It's better than starting the school year, at least. You barely talk to anyone. Friends? You don't have anyâat least, that's what you thought. Sometimes it feels like you're from another speciesâmetaphorically speaking, of course. You're still human, after all. But how do you approach someone when you've already relived the same conversation, the same day, the same life, more than a thousand times across different timelines? It was exhausting and not worth it.
Still, for some reason, you have a group. You don't really know how it happened, and you don't care to question it. It seems like that unwritten rule where introverts are adopted by extroverts. Except you don't consider yourself an introvert. At least you don't think you are. You just... are very much inside yourself. You think: if someone else were in your place, after coming back and living the same thing for over a thousand years or over a thousand timelinesâwouldn't it be tiring?
Your silent observation is interrupted when you see Artemis arrive. She looks as uncomfortable in the uniform as you rememberâover time, she gets used to it; everyone gets used to it after a while.
You won't greet her. You won't approach Richard Grayson-Wayne eitherâDick Grayson or Robin as he's known on the team. Oh, no. Mixing these worlds is asking for your disguise to crumble ahead of time. For now, you prefer to follow your path and keep a safe distance from them; your peace was especially preserved.
â Artemis? I'm Bette, your new advisor. Welcome to Gotham Academy â a curly-haired blonde approaches with a professional smile.
â Thank you. Um, I'm Artemis. But you already knew that â Artemis replies, a little embarrassed.
Before she can say more, an arm appears over her shoulder. It's Dick, with a cell phone raised. â We'll laugh about this someday â he says, and the flash goes off, momentarily blinding Artemis. When she blinks, he's already disappeared into the flow of students.
â Oh, who was that? â asks Artemis, confused, turning back to Bette.
â A freshman. Ignore him â the advisor responds with a wave, indicating they should keep walking. â You'll like the school. We have clubs, if you want to join someâŚ
â I think I'll pass for now â Artemis declines, but her gaze is pulled ahead, to where you walk with silent steps and a fixed gaze on the horizon.
â Oh, good morning, (Surname)! â Bette calls out, but you've already passed, absorbed in your own thoughts. The advisor shrugs. â Oh, she's already gone.
â Who was that? â Artemis asks, curiosity now turned toward her schoolmate.
â (Name) (Surname) â Bette replies, a tone of genuine respect in her voice. â She's a good student. Actually, one of the best, if I may say so.
Artemis turns her face again to observe you at a distance with a certain feeling she can't quite name. At that moment, a small group of studentsâcolorful hair, suppressed laughter, much more cheerfulâapproaches and walks beside you, talking quietly. Your "group." At least that's what it seems, although they looked so different, each so unique and much more flashy.
â Impeccable grades and all that, although she's very quiet, even though her name is at the top of the exam board â Bette completes, as if that explains everything, although at the same time it explains nothing, absolutely nothing.
Artemis observes for a moment longer, seeing how you, despite being surrounded, seem to exist in a bubble of your own quietness. An exemplary student, by the looks of it, with a group of seemingly cool friends and exactly that typical group you'd wish to have with you, only seen in series, books, and movies, even though you have an air of distance that Artemis, on her first day at a new school, understands more than she'd like to admit. It seemed like trying to talk to you wouldn't be easy at all.
You were in the cafeteria, sitting, staring into space while eating your snack, as your friends talked about random things in a very general way. That is, until one of your "friends" comes over shouting loudly while with his hand on another, slightly smaller boy's shoulder, approaching you and the gang, who notice the boy and smile at the two.
â "GUYS, I want to introduce you to Luka! He's a freshman and is starting the year, and as good seniors, we should help our buddy here HAHA â the boy Alex says, laughing, patting Luka on the back, who also laughs, waving at everyone. The group seems happy, waving and saying various tones of hello.
â Hi, how are you, Luka? Sit with us; no one here bites â says one of the girls, Melissa, from what you know, tapping the table lightly for him to choose a spot among everyone to sit. Your friends and group were really good people and a mix of extroverts, introverts, and ambiverts, although new members were difficult, it wasn't impossible, so it wasn't strange, in a way, from what you witnessed.
You continued eating your food while Luka sat across from you with Alex beside him. They talked animatedly, gesturing to the newcomer, introducing the various members, who in a way filled a table. How you got into a group like this is a mystery to this day, a mystery you have no interest in knowing.
As soon as you finished your snack, you stood up, with some also standing. Luka looked confused, watching everyone get up, while he stood up somewhat hurriedly, almost tripping over the table leg. One of the girls with another boy picked up the plates and trays, taking them to where they left dirty dishes.
â Wait, where are we going?
â To the gym â you said, picking up your phone and walking ahead of the group, while some were already running playfully, others gesturing. The girl and the boy from before came animatedly beside you, chatting with other group members. It didn't take long to reach the outside of the school, where the bleachers were near a large shady tree, and little by little, people climbed up and sat down.
â Alright, I'm thinking of going to the cafeteria to buy more stuff. Anyone want to come along? â asked one of the boys, Matthew, from what you remembered. The girl with glasses, Annabeth, raised her hand along with another girl, Alice, who were descending the benches to the grass.
â I'll go; I want to buy that chocolate.
â Hey! Here's the money; bring me one of those snacks!
The trio left, waving before disappearing from sight. It was the same thing every day. You scrolled through your phone, looking at the news and the day's events, staying quiet in your bubble while your friends were around talking about such futile things.
â You⌠don't like to talk? â You slowly looked up from your phone. Luka was beside you, looking a bit nervous. He fidgeted his hands restlessly, as if he didn't know where to put them.
You observed him for a second. The new kid. Luka, who arrived with Alex, was there, visibly uncomfortable, but tryingâperhaps out of boredom, perhaps out of a genuine effort to fit in.
â I do â you replied, your voice coming out more neutral than intended. â I just don't have much to say.
Was it enough? Maybe. You weren't sure if it was an answer that fit into their world, but in a way, it was true. Luka seemed to process the phrase for a moment, still with restless hands scratching the back of his neck where his fiery red hair fell a bit.
â It's just that you seem⌠alone â he said, his voice coming out lower, as if the word were a bit too heavy. â Even with everyone here.
The sun filtered through the leaves of the tree, casting irregular shadows on the bleachers. You felt the weight of his words for a momentânot because they were true, but because he, a complete stranger who just arrived, had noticed something your "friends" seemed to ignore.
You looked back at your phone.
â I'm just quieter â was what you said; it seemed enough for him to understand. â And you? Shouldn't you be introducing yourself to the rest of the group?
Luka laughed, a short, slightly relieved laugh, as if the question was permission to leave that moment of exposure.
â Already did that. Alex introduced everyone. You were the only one left out, apparently.
He pointed with his chin toward the group, who were laughing at something Melissa had just said. Luka hesitated for a second but didn't get up.
â So â he continued, as if pulling up a random topic â what do you do in your free time?
The question was so innocent it almost hurt. Free time. How do you explain that your free time consists of training, missions, and timelines that crumble like sand between your fingers? How do you say you've lived that same day more times than he has years of life? That your "spare time" is spent trying to keep the world from collapsing, and that the break on the bleachers is the only real pause you get, and even then, it would never be a real pause?
But your mouth opened before you could think.
The answer came out dry, direct, laden with a truth so raw and definitive it seemed to end any possibility of continuing the conversation. Study. It was what you did, in a wayâyou studied patterns, studied failures, studied ways to prevent everything from collapsing once more. But it wasn't the kind of study he imagined.
Luka blinked a few times, his face losing some of its initial animation; you could see it in the gleam of his mint-green eyes.
â Ah â he said, and there was a tone of poorly disguised disappointment in his voice. â That's⌠cool.
He didn't ask anything else. His eyes wandered to the group, where Alex was gesturing animatedly, telling some story, and Luka seemed to make the silent calculation everyone made at some point: that talking to you was like trying to climb a wall. Possible, perhaps, but why bother when there were so many easier paths?
â I'll see what the others are doing â he said, getting up with a movement that tried to be casual. â It was nice talking to you.
You just nodded, your eyes already back on the phone screen. Luka hesitated for a second, as if expecting something moreâan invitation to stay, a question back, anything that indicated that conversation meant something or that you could open up more, hoping you'd talk to him more. Nothing came, although they looked back; you were alone near the tree, even with literally your group a step below in the shade.
He turned and descended a couple of steps toward Alex and Melissa, who welcomed him with open smiles and animated questions. In minutes, he was already laughing with them, integrated into the easy dynamic you never seemed to master.
You remained seated, your phone forgotten in your hands, watching the group without really seeing. Down below, Annabeth, Matthew, and Alice returned from the cafeteria, carrying bags of snacks and chocolates, and the commotion increased as they started distributing the orders.
Someone laughed loudly. Someone threw a crumpled wrapper at someone else. Someone called your name, asking if you wanted a snack, and you shook your head in silence, the same gesture as always. And although the group was kind, they knew you were in your own world. At least that's what you thought; they didn't exclude you, but they knew you preferred their presence to conversation.
*I study.* The phrase echoed in your head, and you weren't sure whether to laugh or cry at the irony. Thousands of timelines accumulated like layers of sediment, and the only thing you managed to say to an ordinary boy was that you studied.
It was so pathetic that your past self might have slapped you for it, but that's what everyone saw: the smart, quiet, perhaps shy girl, with a great and wonderful group of friends, loving parents, and a perfect school life, grades always so high and perfect, a flawless school life, performance awards, a name teachers mentioned with pride.
The perfect dream of any teenager, if you stopped to think about it. Everyone knew that name. What more could you ask for? The perfect dream of a teenage girl.
If perhaps you were more extroverted, if perhaps you were more open, maybe you'd be the most popular girl like in classic teen moviesânot for beauty, maybe not that, never that. And deep down, you knew it wasn't about appearanceâit was about the distance you yourself created, the invisible wall no one could climb. And no one, not even you, knew how to tear it down, not even with relationships.
Relationships were something troubled you experienced in the futureâin a previous timeline, now buried like so many others. You remembered well that your relationships didn't end well, especially when it was with a team member. It always hurt when you remembered the reasons they dated you.
Dick Grayson, Robin or Nightwing. Whatever his vigilante nameâthe mentality was the same, whether adult or child or teenager, the mind thought the same thing, as in the relationship, which you discovered later, was only out of pity. You remembered well when he said that, when you confronted him after yet another case of betrayal, one of many. You weren't pretty, weren't charming, didn't have the dream body boys wanted; you were as ordinary as anyone else. But you weren't right for him; you could see that in the face of so many girls he cheated on or went out with, they seemed more beautiful and better than you, who were paranoid at the time, perhaps a bit selfish, but how could you not be? You'd been through so much and expected more. You'd liked him from the start; you fought to be there by his side, where you wanted to be. But unfortunately, you weren't the type Dick would date or take on dates, not the type he'd put a ring on, or acknowledge publicly, or speak of affectionately to friends, or be proud to date.
You were the one who invited him on a date, you who asked him out with hope in your chest and love in your eyes, and he? He only accepted your proposal out of pity. Because, even though you were partners, even though you were colleagues, even though you were friends, he knew no one else would love you, as if it were impossible for anyone to stay by your side. He was only there because he was "kind" and as a "good" person, he accepted, even though he didn't enjoy the date, the proposal, or being with you.
And that hurt more than anything.
*"You could thank me, you know?"* His voice echoed in your memory like a blade that never stopped cutting, reminding you of who you were back then. *"I mean, I don't want to be the villain of the story. But let's be direct: without me, you'd practically still be alone. As you always have been..."*
It got worse when others gave the same excuse, but with different words.
Wally West was another one. He didn't start dating you out of pity, not exactly. It was more because the idea of a girl being in love with him was incredible, flatteringâespecially when his best friend was Dick Grayson, the heartthrob. You were the easy trophy. The conquest that came without effort.
But he wasn't one of the best. He was just as much of a jerk as his friend. The relationship was a one-way street: love came from only one side. He didn't know dates, showed up late, didn't even try. The worst part is that he didn't have the courage to break up. You didn't hear it from himâyou never would. You heard him venting to his friend. The relationship was suffocating, he said. *She's too intense, too needy; I don't know what to do anymore.*
The worst part is that he liked someone else. And you knewâyou saw the look, the different treatment. Artemis looked at you as if it were your fault, as if you were the obstacle between them. There was no betrayal, at least not the way Wally thought. He was just "helping her," he said. But you could see the different treatment. The extra hours of training together. The laughter you weren't part of.
And it got worse when you broke up with him. Suddenly, he remembered the dates. He made an effort to set up meetings. Flowers. Gifts. Gestures that never existed when you were together. It was agonizing. Because unlike Dick Grayson, who at least had the cruel honesty to tell the truth, Wally never said anything. Never admitted it. He preferred to let you find out on your own, in pieces, while he moved on as if nothing had happened.
Connor was another one. Perhaps the one that hurt in a different way.
The feeling of having something M'gann hadâacross several timelinesâwas almost intoxicating. You thought you'd finally won. If M'gann was happy in the relationship, you could be too. If Connor loved someone the way he loved her, maybe you could be loved the same way.
It was the shortest relationship of all.
Connor wasn't cruel. He wasn't neglectful like Wally, nor cold like Dick. He just⌠wasn't there. Not completely. You could feel it, in every touch, in every look, that he was comparing. That you were a second-rate substitute for what he really wanted. And the worstâwhat hurt the mostâis that he didn't even notice. He tried, genuinely. He was kind, patient, made the effort the others never did. But deep down, deep down, you knew it wasn't you he saw.
No one ever really saw you.
Kaldur? No point thinking about him. He was direct, at least. He'd never be with you out of pityâhe already liked someone else, and openly said he didn't want a relationship. He was the only one who didn't look at you with that mix of guilt and condescension. The only one who, when he said "no," it was just "no." No layers. No hidden intentions. Maybe that's why it hurt less. Or maybe it hurt differentlyâbecause even his rejection was more honest than the others' love.
And with the girls? If men were jerks, at least womenâŚ
It didn't help. M'gann was a mix of Dick and Wallyâshe was there out of pity, but couldn't say it. She stayed by your side, with that sweet smile that never reached her eyes when she looked at you. You knew she compared. Knew that every moment by your side was a silent reminder of what she really wanted.
Artemis was too direct. She broke up without even looking at your face. One day she was there, the next she was gone, and when you asked, the answer was a shrug and a "it wasn't meant to be." As if you were just any commitment she finally got tired of putting off.
Zatanna? She left you for a man. No beating around the bush, no explanation. Just moved on as if what you had was a detour, an experiment that didn't work out. And you were left there, trying to understand what you did wrong, what was missing in you, why it was never enough.
In the end, relationships were garbage. So you just focused on survival. So what if someone lost a leg? If they're not dead, at least they're better off. Life would pass quickly. People are jerks anyway. It's easier to count on the certainty of physical pain than on the illusion of affection that never comes.
But then you remembered Nelson Kent's words, looking at the blue sky with clouds. It wasn't about the relationship after all, but how could you let go of the hatred you carried from the ways and sidelong glances of the team? You closed your eyes, trying to think about how everything fell apart in which timeline.
You opened your eyes; Melissa's voice cut through the veil of dark thoughts that enveloped you. She had a gentle smile on her face, the kind she offered to everyone, always trying to keep the group together.
â The bell already rang. Shall we go?
You got up from the bench, putting your phone in your pocket without even remembering what you were looking at. You walked with the group, as you always didâin the middle, but apart. You never really participated, but at least they didn't leave you out. That was more than you deserved, maybe. Or it was the bare minimum, and you'd gotten so used to bad treatment that anything seemed like a gift.
The group started moving toward the building, animated voices, loose laughter, bodies moving in easy synchrony. You were there, floating on the periphery, when you felt a gaze.
Luka. He was walking somewhat stumbling, trying to keep up with the group's pace, and now he was staring at you with a look you knew well. Pity. Mixed with curiosity, perhaps, but mainly pity. As if you were a wounded animal he didn't know whether to help or ignore.
You didn't want that look.
â I'm fine â the answer came out automatic, short, the tone ending any possibility of continuation.
Luka opened his mouth, as if to say something more, but Melissa was already pulling him aside, asking something about the next class. He went. Of course he went. People always went. It was easier.
You kept walking, your steps echoing in the empty hallway that led to the classroom. Around you, the group laughed, gestured, lived. You were there, in the middle of them, but it was already night in your head. Already a mission. Already the next cycle, the next battle, the next timeline you'd try to keep intact.
And when the teacher started talking, when the voices around you became just a background hum, you thought maybe it was easier this way. Alone. Expecting nothing from anyone. Never being disappointed when you found out, once again, no one really saw you.
The bell rang. The day ended. And you, as always, kept moving forward.
The sky seemed to change like people. You walked through them, and it seemed like time was fastâno, you were too slow. The habit of traveling through so many lines, returning and repeating day after day, made it seem like you were in a different rhythm.
You were already dressed in the hero uniform, the fabric and lines adjusted to your body with the familiarity of someone who has worn it longer than they'd like to admit. Falling from the building seemed to last an eternity, the air around you, nothing to hold onto but yourself. You closed your eyes, thinking about the words Nelson had saidâto take things lightly. How could you? The world seemed the same; in a black-and-white world, it seemed like you were the gray, different from what no one noticed.
Perhaps you should take that old man's words? Your yo-yo snagged on the beam, and then you were swung toward the alley with the teleporter. Your gaze was distant as your feet touched the ground, already moving, walking toward the portal without needing a second to orient yourself.
But the night, it seemed, had other plans.
Robin's voice cut through the silence of the alley, tinged with a surprise you felt without needing to look.
â Robin? I, uh⌠â Artemis, visibly out of place, tried to find an explanation that didn't sound like what it really was: a lie.
â Oh, what a coincidence you're in Gotham City instead of Star City, where your uncle Green Arrow lives â Robin continued, his voice light, almost casual, but you knew enough to know there was no casualness there. He already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear her say it.
â I'm here to see my cousin â Artemis replied, too quickly. â She participated in the state spelling bee here in Gotham.
The exchange of words was so rehearsed you almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
It was then that Robin's gaze found you. You felt it before seeing it, that sharp focus he rarely wasted on things he considered irrelevant.
â Oh, hi, (Heroine). How strange to see you here too â he said, poorly disguised curiosity in his voice. â Instead of being with, I don't know⌠somewhere else?
The question hung in the air, innocent on the surface, sharp underneath. You stared at him for a second. Then another. You felt the weight of Artemis's gaze too, the expectation of an answer that would explain the anomaly of you being there, in the same place as them, as if you belonged to the same category.
â I'm here because I want to be â you replied, your voice coming out drier than you intended, perhaps. Or exactly as intended. â My reasons don't concern you.
Robin raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, the easy smile he used to disarm situations already forming on his lips.
â Easy, I'm just asking. No need to raise your claws.
â I'm not raising claws â your words cut the air, precise as a blade. â I'm protecting my identity. Switching teleporters every day helps you not know where I come from. Take the tip, Artemis.
You didn't wait for a reaction. You spun on your heels and stepped through the portal, the bluish light of the teleporter swallowing your body before either of them could formulate a response.
On the other side, the silence was absolute for a moment. Then Robin's voice, laden with perplexity.
â What's gotten into her?
Artemis shrugged, the gesture as vague as the feeling.
You emerged on the other side already in motion, your eyes adjusting to the dimnessâuntil the world exploded into a ball of fire.
Ah yes, the metal duo, you thought, sighing as you dodged a jet of flames that whizzed past your shoulder. Behind you, the portal closed, and Robin and Artemis appeared in the middle of the confusion, still disoriented. You didn't wait. Your eyes were already scanning the smoke, the lenses of your uniform shifting tones as you activated thermal vision, X-ray, the filters Renjiichiro had installed at some point between one timeline and another.
The wretch was egocentric, but efficient. You saw through the smoke curtain as if it were glass: two enormous, metallic silhouettes, positioned at strategic points. And one clear corridor, an access they hadn't yet covered.
You put your fingers to your mouth and whistled. The sharp sound cut through the battle noise, and Robin and Artemis turned toward you without hesitation. You were already running toward the corridor, entering the gym before they could ask anything.
â Robin to the team. Over. Aqualad! â the boy's voice echoed in the empty hallway, trying for any signal, any response. Beside him, Artemis pressed her fingers against her temple, concentrating.
â M'gann, can you hear me? Are you there?
You could stop now. You could explainâthat the robots were more than they seemed, that the cave was compromised, that the fire wasn't the real danger. But you knew how things worked. You knew that the moment you opened your mouth, the look would change. Suspicion would set in. *How do you know? What else are you hiding?*
Better to stay quiet. Survive. Let them find out on their own.
â Uhh! Robin to the Batcave. Override RG4. Calling the Justice League via the cave. HOJ/Watchtower. B-0-1. Priority beam.
â The faucets! Open them! â you shouted, already running ahead, your hands turning the valves with force. Water gushed in cascades, forming an improvised barrier between you and the fire advancing down the corridor. The heat was suffocating, sucking the oxygen, and you felt the familiar dizziness beginning to creep in. But the water, at least, held the line.
â Communications are down â Robin announced, his face frowning after trying one more signal. He looked at the open faucets, the flames retreating. â At least the water is helping.
The faucets began to shake, a metallic tremor that rose up the walls. A pipe burst near your face, and you barely dodged the pressurized jet. Then another. Another. In seconds, the floor was covered by a growing layer of water, rising too fast, the pressure impossible to contain.
â We need to get out! â Robin was already moving, a disc from his belt flying toward the wall. The explosion opened a breach, and water gushed out like an uncontrolled river, carrying the three of you in the flow.
You grabbed Robin and Artemis's wrists, pulling them up, out of the current, and the three of you ran without looking back, slipping on the wet floor, your steps echoing in corridors that were turning into a labyrinth of smoke and steam.
The kitchen. You recognized it by the smell of steel and grease, by the surfaces reflecting the orange glow of flames coming from somewhere nearby. Your lenses showed the nearest robotâbathroom, three rooms to the right. The other was still in the gym, but already moving.
â The air vent! â Robin pointed to the ventilation above the stove.
â Great. Go â Artemis climbed up first, agile, her feet finding support on the cabinets. You entered behind her, the tight duct forcing your shoulders to twist. Robin stayed at the entrance, his fingers flying over the keyboard on his wrist.
â What are you doing? â Artemis whispered from inside the duct.
â Cave blueprints. This could beâ
The sound of metallic footsteps in the corridor interrupted the sentence. You acted before thinking. The yo-yo came out of your belt in a fluid motion, the string wrapping around Robin's waist and pulling him into the duct before the robot appeared at the kitchen entrance. You released the boy, spun the yo-yo one last time, and the vent grate clicked back into place, the screws fitting as if they'd never been removed.
Robin fell inside the duct, his eyes wide, but he said nothing. He just stood up and started moving.
â Nice timing â he murmured, his voice low. â Go left.
Behind you, fire passed through the ventilation, a roar that made the metal walls tremble. You felt the heat licking your heels, too close.
â Too close â Robin completed, unnecessarily.
â Turn right at the first one. There should be a vent cover right in front of you â he ordered Artemis, who was in front. She found the grate, pulled it off, and slid out, landing on the floor with a thud.
You were already moving before touching the ground. Your eyes passed through the walls, locating the two robotsâone approaching from the east corridor, the other still in the gym, but repositioning. The pattern. You knew that pattern.
â Run â you said, your voice coming out firmer than intended.
â Whatâ Artemis started, but you were already pulling her by the arm, dragging the two toward the opposite corridor. Behind, the sound of metal hitting the floor, the roar of fire being released.
â Um! This is not good! â Robin shouted, looking back.
The robot had fallen into the corridor behind them, its chassis covered in smoke, its sensors glowing in the dark. Artemis and Robin didn't know what was coming. You did. You'd seen this movie before.
Fire gushed from the robot, not toward them, but at the ceiling. The flames spread across the metal plates, heating the environment too fast, consuming the oxygen, making the pipes around hiss and crackle with the increasing pressure.
â Just run! â you shouted, pushing the two ahead. â We have to get out of here! These things are going to explode any minute!
They ran. You guided them along a path your eyes had already traced, dodging debris, ignoring corridors that led to dead ends. A grate on the floor, right there, where you knew it would be. You pulled it open, revealing a narrow, dark maintenance duct.
Artemis went down first, then Robin. You were about to follow when he stopped, his fingers flying over the keyboard on his wrist.
â Wait! Blocking the Cave's motion and heat sensors to prevent the enemy from tracking us.
Silence lasted a second. Two. You felt the ground shake, the heat intensifying behind you.
â Robin, now â you hissed, and he jumped into the duct without further argument. You went down after him, pulling the grate closed, and the three of you disappeared into the dark while the corridor behind exploded into a ball of fire and twisted metal.
In the duct, the silence was absolute. Only the ragged breathing of the three of you, the distant echo of explosions, and the smell of smoke still clinging to your clothes.
â And I ask again, who is the enemy? â Artemis asked, her voice laden with a frustration that had been building since they stepped into that hell.
You didn't answer. You were leaning against the metal wall, eyes closed, trying to organize the thoughts that jumbled between what you already knew and what you needed to pretend you didn't know. Your breathing still hadn't calmed, and the choker felt heavier than usual against your skin.
Robin was already working on his wrist hologram, fingers flying over the security cameras.
â All four are dead â he said, and you and Artemis turned to him at the same time. Robin's gaze passed from one to the other before correcting, too quickly. â The cameras. I meant the cameras. I'm sure the others are fine.
â Yeah, they're fine â Artemis murmured, without much conviction.
â After all, they all have superpowers â you added, your voice coming out more automatic than intended.
The silence that followed was charged with something you didn't want to identify. Artemis and Robin exchanged a quick look, and you felt the weight of their attention shifting direction.
â But you alsoâ Robin began.
â My power is more useless than you think â you cut in, standing up and shaking the water from your clothes. â That's why I use my skills and equipment more. Let's go.
You were already moving before they could respond, crawling through the tight duct until you found a grate. You pushed it with your shoulders and fell onto the library floor with a thud, your eyes already scanning the environment. Bookshelves rose around you like silent sentinels, books still, the air heavy with the smell of old paper and distant smoke.
Robin and Artemis landed behind you, and the boy was already running between the shelves, his eyes scanning the titles with a familiarity only someone who spent hours there would have.
â There's a secret passage behind one of these shelves â he announced.
â Really? How clichĂŠ! â Artemis complained, but she was already moving, her fingers sliding over the spines, pulling random books in search of some mechanism.
Robin passed her in front, his sharp eyes scanning the shelves. â You should see the Batcave â he commented, almost distractedly. Then, he turned to you with a half-smile that tried to be casual. â Maybe one day you can come with me, if you want, (Heroine).
â No, thanks â your answer came out before you could soften the tone, too dry, too definitive. Robin's smile faltered for a second, but he didn't insist.
It was then that you heard it. Metallic footsteps. Heavy. Rhythmic. Approaching.
Your body acted before your brain. You grabbed Robin and Artemis's wrists, pulling them behind a shelf, your hand already on the yo-yo, your eyes fixed on the library entrance. Silence returned, dense, while the three of you held your breath.
Until a voice broke the tension. Metallic. Familiar. But wrong.
â Artemis. Robin. (Heroine).
The relief that passed over Artemis's face was visible. She was already getting up, her bow lowering.
â Artemis, no! â you shouted, but it was too late.
She turned to the figure emerging from the shadows, and you saw the error in the same instant. The proportions. The gleam of the sensors. The way the arms swung, slightly desynchronized. *Brothers.* You'd seen this movie before. You knew how it ended.
You threw yourself, grabbing Artemis by the waist and pushing both of you to the ground, rolling under a heavy table as the robot's arm swept through the space where they were seconds before. Robin was already moving, climbing the shelves like an acrobat.
â Yes, the Red, no, Tornado â he corrected from above, his voice tense.
The second robot blocked the exit. The shelves began to fall, one after another, books flying like projectiles. Robin jumped between them, his eyes fixed on the titles, his fingers searching for something only he knew.
â Behind Parallel Lives! â he shouted.
The right book. The mechanism groaned. The wall opened.
The three of you ran inside before the shelves collapsed behind you, the tunnel closing with a click that sounded like a period.
The corridor was narrow, poorly lit, and the sound of footsteps echoed on the stone walls. Artemis ran ahead, still breathless.
â Did you know Tornado had brothers? â she asked, her voice a mix of incredulity and accusation.
â Now we know â Robin replied, and she grabbed his wrists, pulling him to keep pace. â And now? Red Tornado is one of the most powerful in the League. How do we defeat two of him?
â They seem pretty hard to control â Robin commented, and you flicked his forehead without thinking.
â No stupid jokes. We have toâ
The voice interrupted. Not robotic. Synthesized, cold, and coming from everywhere at once.
*"Attention, Robin. Attention, (Heroine). Attention, Artemis. You must surrender within ten minutes, or your teammates' lives will be extinguished."*
The three of you exchanged glances. The tunnel ahead split into two directions, and Robin was already pointing to the left.
â We can access the hangar this way.
But before anyone could move, the water came.
It wasn't a leak, wasn't seepage. It was a wall. From one second to the next, the tunnel filled, and you felt the cold and pressure swallowing you like a closed fist. Robin already had a breathing apparatus on his face, the trained reflex of years of combat. You opened the yo-yo with numb fingers, pulling the device from inside and pushing it toward Artemis. She put it to her mouth, her eyes wide, and you saw the panic settling in as she realized you didn't have one for yourself.
The pain came fast. Lungs burning, chest compressed, consciousness beginning to fragment at the edges. You wouldn't die. You knew that. But suffocating was no less agonizing just because you'd felt it before.
You saw it through the murky water, a metallic shadow approaching, articulated fingers closing around your ankle. Pulling. *Idiot,* you thought, or tried to, bubbles escaping your lips. Artemis's arrow was near your legâwhen did it get there so fast in the water, you didn't know, but it was there, the metal tip gleaming in that water. Your hand found the shaft, pulled, and you drove the arrow into the robot's eye with all the strength you had left.
The impact was an electric shock that ran up your arm, and the robot recoiled, its fingers releasing. You kicked the metal, propelling yourself upward, and felt a hand close around your wrist. Robin. He and Artemis were holding a hook anchored to the wall ahead, pulling you toward the wall while one of Robin's explosive discs fell in sync toward the robot.
The explosion was muffled, dampened by the water, but the shockwave pushed you upward, out of the tunnel, into the air that burned your lungs when you finally managed to breathe, your head above water. Even holding your breath for a short period before the robot grabbed your leg, you spent the rest breathing water, coughing, trying to spit out what had gotten inâit was worse if it had gone into your lungs. Beside you, Robin and Artemis were at your side, with the water-breathing apparatuses on, wet, alive.
The voice came from somewhere, and before you could process it, someone pulled you back. The fireball passed where your face had been a second before, just as you looked up and saw the female robotâor the fire robot, as you liked to name itâlaunching more fireballs, forcing the three of you into the water and toward the rocks where Connor and Wally were trapped.
â Are you guys okay? â Wally asked, looking at the three of you.
â Forget us. Help M'gann. â Connor said, and you could only roll your eyes mentally.
â Aqualad! â Artemis shouted, and you could only look around, observing the place and the robots.
â She's unconscious. I'm afraid we won't survive much longer.
But before anyone could say anything, another fireball forced the three of you to swim, this time exiting onto the stairs. And as they climbed to the top, the fire robot landed, and behind them in the water, the other arm was there with the damaged eye.
â I'm almost out of arrows! â Artemis warned, looking back and forth between the robots.
â Distract her now. â Robin said, and Artemis pulled the penultimate arrow, shooting at the robot while Robin threw his discs at the other, one deflecting and getting stuck near Wally's head. Realizing it wasn't working, you pulled the two by the waist before diving into the water again, this time escaping the explosion from the two robots' powers when they met. You swam ahead, pulling a grate; Robin and Artemis entered first, and you entered after, pulling the grate closed with difficulty but ensuring they didn't know you were there. As soon as you were inside, you climbed up, already finding Robin and Artemis panting inside the pipe above the water. You were pulled by the two as soon as they saw you emerging, falling onto the pipe floor and breathing with difficulty because the water was already in your lungs. Even though you weren't drowning to death, the pain was greater than anyone could imagine; if you were normal, you'd probably pass out right there.
â What do we do now? â Artemis asked, looking at Robin before looking at you, who was coughing heavily.
â We save them. That's how it works. â Robin said, as if it were obvious, as if it were a fact like the sky being blue, though it wasn't the best in that situation.
â Maybe that's how it should work, but those robots already took out our four super-powered friends.
â You seem disturbed. â Robin said, observing Artemis while he patted your back slowly, before you finally got a slightly more stable breath, though still suffocating. You swore you'd gotten more liquid in your lungs than you'd drunk all day.
â Desperate? M'gann is dying. We have no powers and I only have one arrow left. Of course I'm desperate â Artemis said, showing the only arrow left before putting it away again, her fingers trembling slightly in the movement.
â Have hope, or we die.
â How can you be so calm? â Artemis shouted, turning to Robin, who was already walking ahead in the duct. Behind, you watched the interaction, your eyes passing from one face to another without really seeing. â I mean, I understand (Hero), sheâ she hesitated, the sentence dying before completing. â Never mind.
â Practice â Robin replied, his tone as casual as someone commenting on the weather. â I've been doing this since I was 9.
Of course. His mentor was Batman. Staying calm would be the minimum coming from someone raised by the coldest man in Antarctica. Sometimes you wondered if he was really human, the way he operatedâcold, calculating, immune to fear. Although it was a cruel thought, it was also the truest you'd ever had on the subject.
â What good is that now? â Artemis insisted, her voice lower now, laden with a frustration that seemed about to overflow. â What chance do we have against relentless machines?
â Of course, they're machines â Robin replied, and there was something new in his tone now, a flash of an idea taking shape. â And an electromagnetic pulse turns off any machine within range.
â Great. It's just that you better have an electromagnetic pulse in your utility belt, because I know I don't have one in my quiver.
â I just ran out â Robin admitted, and you saw the exact moment his smile formed, quick, dangerous. â But I bet we can make one. What do you think, K.F.? Feasible?
*"Totally feasible,"* Wally's voice replied on the communicator, with a smile in his mind. *"With about... 5 minutes. If you had more time."*
â Great, so start talking now â you finally said something, already walking behind the duo, who seemed almost shocked by your sudden willingness to speak, not knowing if it was because you were too quiet or because you were slightly hoarse from the water.
â It's good to hear your voice again, kittenâ
â JUST GET ON WITH ITâ you could hear a slight cough from the redhead through Robin's communicator, who was already walking ahead. â Medical lab, X-ray machine. â the voice said, and you just nodded before kicking one of the duct walls open, entering the room, and removing the plate for the other two to get out. While they fiddled with the machine, you looked around, using the lenses to see if the robotic duo was nearby. You didn't want to say it out loud, but the idea of using an electromagnetic pulse was good; now you just had to see if they'd survive long enough to use it.
You didn't want to have to reset right there, where you'd had to reset so many times, because of them. The memory was painful; the fault wasn't yours; you didn't understand their hatredâyou were just trying to keep them alive. Every time you remembered, it gave you a bad feeling, the hatred accumulating. You could only clench your fists as you approached the duo.
You clenched your fists so hard you felt your nails biting into your palm.
â So? Did you get it? â your voice came out drier than intended.
Robin raised the improvised device, the wires hanging like disconnected tentacles. â I need to connect it to the cave's main generator. â He looked up at you, and there was a silent question in his gaze.
You just nodded, a short, precise movement. The shortcut. The route you'd already traced in your head, the one you'd traveled so many times you could do it with your eyes closed. Your fingers found the edge of the metal plate, pulled with controlled force, opening enough space for the two to pass.
Robin went down first, then Artemis. You came after, replacing the plate in place with a smooth movement, locking the metal so it wouldn't make noise. The corridor ahead was empty.
From the front of the location, you could see on the ground, in vision, the two robots with the fire grate behind them with Aqualad and Miss Martian in the back, and ahead in the water pool that you and the duo had swum in, Kid Flash and Superboy were trapped in a kind of rock made of fire and water. You could see that the water was up to their necks.
â Okay, start the distraction. â Robin said into the communicator before hearing his colleagues start shouting.
â Hey, red tomato! Who's your girlfriend, red onion?
â Yeah, besides, the worst death trap of all time. We can escape whenever we want.
â I can vibrate my molecules out of here before your binary brains can count to two.
â Cover me â Robin whispered, already descending the rope toward the generator.
You rolled your eyes, but the yo-yo was already in your hand. The other, however, was tremblingâa fine tremor you couldn't control, your body remembering all the other times, all the other endings. You took a deep breath, forcing your fingers to grip the metal, and watched.
Robin was almost at the generator. The wires hung, the improvised device swinging near the control panel. He leaned in to make the connection, his agile fingers searching for the contact point.
â The circuit is incomplete â he murmured, his voice tense. â I need something conductive. A piece of metal, anythingâ
â Robin, watch out! â Artemis's shout was a cut in the tension.
You saw the wave a second before it hit. The yo-yo was already in motion, the string extending, but the water was faster. The wave engulfed Robin, tearing him from the rope, dragging him under. You retracted the yo-yo with a dry pull, your teeth grinding as the robots retrieved his body from the water, inert as a puppet.
Your body was already moving toward Artemis when the fireball passed. You threw yourself against her, both rolling back as the fire exploded where Artemis had been a second before.
â No, no, no, no â Artemis murmured, her eyes fixed on the robot carrying Robin, on the water still rising, on the fire that wouldn't go out. â No, no, no. I surrender. I die with the others.
â ARTEMIS, FOCUS GIRL! â you grabbed her shoulders, shaking hard enough to make her teeth rattle.
She pushed your hands away, her eyes wide, panic turning to fury. â HOW CAN I FOCUS? Robin was caught! The team is going to die! Only we two are left and we have nothing to do!
â I HAVE A PLAN â you almost shouted, and something in your voice made Artemis stop, her eyes fixed on your face. â But for that, you need to calm down. Okay?
Tears streamed down her face, but she took a deep breath, her hands trembling at her sides. One second. Two.
â Ready? â you asked.
â What's the idea? â her voice came out hoarse, but firm. â The minutes are running out.
You raised the yo-yo. Artemis blinked, confused.
â I'll go to the generator. My yo-yo is metal, it's the right size for the fitting.
â I won't. â your voice was firmer than you felt. â I need you to at least make them look away for a minute. Try talking, say you'll surrender. Just keep their eyes away. One minute, at least.
You didn't wait for an answer. You took Artemis's hand, pulling her to the edge of the corridor. She took one last deep breath, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and nodded. Then she headed to the opposite corner, her hands raised in surrender.
You waited. The countdown began in your head.
The yo-yo spun, the string snapping in the air, and the metal flew toward the generator, passing over the control panel, over the hanging wires, fitting into the circuit's void with a perfect click.
â I just wanted to say something first â Artemis's voice echoed, and you saw the robots turn toward her, their sensors glowing in the dimness. â I surrender.
She waited. One second. Two. Then her hand moved, quick, and the last arrow flewânot toward the robots, but to the ground between them. Smoke exploded into a dense cloud, enveloping the two, blinding the sensors.
*Run,* you thought, your fingers already on the generator, the yo-yo secured, the circuit complete.
Smoke spread. Artemis ran for the tunnel, fireballs exploding behind her, barely missing. You saw the generator's glow begin to pulse, energy building, wires singing in frequencies that hurt your teeth.
The robot turned. The red sensors blinked once, twice, finding you, calculating the distance. The fireball was already forming in the metallic palm.
You didn't dodge. Your fingers tightened on the yo-yo, steady.
The electromagnetic pulse came like an invisible wave, sweeping the cave in all directions. The robots stopped mid-motion, their sensor lights blinking one last time before going dark. The fire dissipated into smoke. The water began to recede, draining through broken pipes, revealing Wally and Superboy coughing though still trapped in the rock. The fire grate around Aqualad and M'gann dissolved into dying embers.
You pulled the yo-yo from the generator. The metal was hot, marked by the heat, but still intact. You clipped it to your belt with an automatic motion, your eyes already searching for Artemis.
She appeared from the tunnel, her face dirty with soot, her eyes still red, but a tired smile forming. She raised her thumb.
You nodded back, already descending the rope, your feet finding the wet floor. Artemis came down behind, and before you could say anything, she was already running toward Kaldur and M'gann, checking if they were okay.
You walked over to Robin.
He was lying on his side on the floor, his face pale, his lips blue, his chest barely moving. You knelt, your fingers finding his pulseâweak, irregular, but there. No breathing came.
Your hands found the center of his chest, one over the other, and you began to count. Thirty compressions. Firm. Rhythmic. One, two, three. Bones grinding under the pressure. Fourteen, fifteen. Water rising from his lungs in small spasms. Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.
You tilted his head back, closed his nose, and breathed into him. His chest rose. Again. Rose again. Back to compressions, your arms already burning, your fingers slipping on his wet chest.
â (Heroine)â someone called from afar, but you didn't hear.
The cough came like an explosion. Robin turned on his side, vomiting water, his lungs fighting to remember how to work. You kept him in position, one hand on his back, feeling every spasm, every breath that slowly returned.
The water stopped coming. He lay there, gasping, his eyes closed, but his chest rising and falling at a rhythm that was almost normal.
You stood up, your legs trembling slightly, and wiped your hands on your pants, trying to ignore the tremor that still hadn't passed.
â She got it â Artemis's voice came from somewhere, and you turned your head to see her pointing at you, a tired smile on her face. â She went there and stuck the yo-yo in the thing. It was crazy.
You didn't look. You just stood there, in the middle of the chaos, the yo-yo still warm against your thigh, water dripping through broken pipes, smoke dissipating toward the ceiling. Robin coughed once more, propping himself up on his elbow, and looked at you. His eyes were still hazy, confused, but something in them steadied when they met yours.
â You... â he began, his voice came out hoarse, scratched. â You saved me.
You didn't answer. You just turned your back and went to check on the others, approaching Kaldur and Megan, with the boy sitting, sweating, and Megan in his lap already unconscious. You took the warm yo-yo, opened it like a hand mirror, and from the center pulled out three small bottles of cold water and two cloths. You closed the yo-yo and put it away. You knew the object had been damagedâor rather, its paint had. You could already hear Renjiichiro commenting when he saw it, *if I were watching,* but it wasn't important at the moment.
â Drink â you said, opening the first bottle and extending it to Kaldur.
He accepted it, his fingers still trembling, and drank in slow sips, his eyes closed. You opened the second bottle, wet one of the cloths, and gently placed it on Megan's forehead. The cold contact made her groan softly, but she didn't wake. You adjusted the cloth, pressing lightly, feeling the excessive heat of her skin under your fingers.
Kaldur watched in silence, the bottle still in his hand.
â You always have what's needed â he said, his voice low, without accusation.
You didn't answer. You just kept wetting the cloth, repeating the motion you'd made so many times in so many timelines.
With everyone stable, it was easy to gather the group. Kaldur was already better, though he still held Megan against his shoulders, his arm firm around her. Robin was standing, limping slightly, but functional. Artemis was holding a laser machine that no longer worked, its buttons dark, its screen blank.
Wally and Connor were still trapped in the stone.
â Can you stop playing with that thing and free us already? â Wally shouted, his voice laden with an irritation you didn't expect. Strange, considering how calm he was when distracting the robots. Or trying to appear calm.
â It's not working, genius â Artemis retorted, shaking the machine as if that would make a difference. â An electromagnetic pulse turns off all machines, remember?
â All machines present at the moment â the metallic voice came from the cave entrance, and everyone turned at once.
Red Tornado. Emerging from the shadows as if he'd been there all along.
â What happened? â he asked, his optical eyes scanning the scene of destruction.
â A little visit from your family â Robin replied, pointing with his chin at the two deactivated robots in the corner.
Artemis muttered something about the weight of the machine, her arms already trembling, and you almost moved to help her before stopping yourself.
â I didn't know I had relatives â Red Tornado said, and there was something in his toneâor the lack of itâthat sounded almost human. He walked to the fallen robots, his eye lights fixed on the inert forms.
â Where were you? â Kaldur asked, his voice still weak.
â On duty at the Watchtower â Red Tornado replied, without turning. â When it became clear that the cave's communications were down, I tried to investigate, but your zeta tubes were also inoperative. I teleported to Providence and headed here.
You almost didn't hear the rest. Your mind had drifted, pulled by a loose thread of memory. Dinah. Her message earlier that day. *"I'll have a full night, I won't be able to train with you today."*
You shuddered, not from the cold, but from the image that came unbidden: Dinah and Oliver, a full night, probably a dinner, probably something more, and you there, alone, training in the basement as always.
â THE PULSES ARE OUT! â Robin and Wally's simultaneous shout pulled you from your thoughts.
You raised your head in time to see Red Tornado stop mid-sentence. The lights in his eyes blinked once, twice, and then steadied into a fixed red. Different. Wrong.
He turned to the team. His arms rose. And the air began to disappear.
You felt it first as pressure on your chest, then as a vacuum, as if your lungs were being emptied from the inside out. You fell to your knees, your knees hitting the wet floor, and saw the others fall one by one. Kaldur, still holding Megan. Robin, trying to reach his utility belt. Artemis, the laser machine falling from her fingers. Wally and Connor, motionless in the stone, their faces pale.
Air didn't come. You opened your mouth, trying to pull something, and nothing. Vision began to darken at the edges. Through the haze, you saw Red Tornado watch the team fall, his red eyes passing over each one without stopping.
He passed by you. His optical eyes met yours for a second, and you expectedâa blow, a push, anything. But he just turned, as if you weren't a threat, as if you weren't there. The two deactivated robots rose, their sensor lights rekindling in sync, and the three moved toward the zeta tube.
Air returned with the violence of a breaking wave.
You fell forward, your arms bracing on the floor, your lungs burning as they pulled air in painful spasms. You coughed once, twice, the sound echoing empty in the cave. Around you, the others remained fallen, motionless, but breathing. Alive.
You stood up, your legs trembling, and walked to the nearest oneâRobin. You knelt, checked his pulse. Strong. Regular. Just unconscious. Kaldur, Megan, Artemis, Wally, Connor. All alive. All unconscious.
The robots were gone. The zeta tube still glowed faintly in the corner, the energy trail already dissipating.
You touched the button on your ear, your fingers still trembling.
â Justice League â your voice came out hoarse, scratched, but firm. â The cave has been attacked. Red Tornado and two unidentified units are heading to the zeta tube. Team... team is unconscious, but stable. I need evacuation and medical support. Over.
Silence on the communicator lasted a second, then Black Canary's voice cut through, professional, controlled, but with a thread of concern you recognized even through the static.
â Received, (Heroine). I've boosted the signal and am activating the rescue team. Hold position. We'll be there shortly.
You didn't respond. You just sat on the wet floor, among your teammates' bodies, and waited.
The yo-yo was cold against your thigh now. The cave was silent. And you, for the umpteenth time, were alone in the middle of the wreckage, waiting for someone to arrive and fix what was left.
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