Cadmus Ruins – Reconstruction Site
Washington D.C., 9:07 A.M. EST
The morning light carved itself through the mist like a scalpel, cutting clean lines across the exposed bones of the Cadmus facility. Scaffolding climbed like skeletal vines across broken walls, while welding drones darted between girders, stitching metal and regret back into place. A massive crater still yawned where Sub-Level Six used to be, ringed in glowing red containment runes and armored barricades. The scent of scorched circuitry, ash, and ozone lingered in the air.
Guardian stood at the edge, arms folded over the golden eagle emblazoned on his chestplate, the weight of responsibility heavier than the riot shield strapped across his back. His jaw was clenched, square and stormy beneath the polished blue helmet.
"Still smells like scorched lies," he muttered.
Dr. Spence stepped up beside him, tugging a reinforced hardhat over her sleek black braid. She was dressed in a charcoal field coat, sleeves rolled, boots muddy, datapad floating beside her like an obedient satellite. Her face was lined with exhaustion, but her voice carried the clipped coolness of a woman who'd survived both ambition and fallout.
"You should have smelled the original place in '98," she said dryly. "This is practically a spa day."
Guardian cut her a side glance, his tone half-suspicious. "You stayed."
She nodded. "After Desmond, the G-Gnomes, and the attempt to clone a god? Yeah. I stayed."
"Why?"
"Because it was my lab too. My mistakes. My silence. If there's going to be a future Cadmus, it's not going to be born from another damn petri dish of denial."
Guardian snorted. "People are calling it the Cadmus Cleanup. Makes it sound like you're Windexing moral corruption."
"Cute," she said. "But no. The chimera programs are shut down. Every last embryo incinerated. Psychic override tech dismantled. And the G-Gnomes? Released and relocated to a secure sanctuary in Nepal. They're sentient. And they deserve better."
"And the breeding vaults?"
Spence's mouth tightened. "You mean the eugenics chambers Desmond called 'species refinement pods'? Decommissioned. Most of them."
"Most?"
She shrugged. "One's being studied. Vault Theta. Residual psi-fields. I'll get to that."
Guardian sighed, rubbing a gloved hand across his jaw. "You want a gold star, Spence? Or just a chance to keep the keys?"
Her voice lowered, even and sharp. "I want you watching my back. Because if I fall into old patterns... I want someone who'll drag me out. Or shoot me between the eyes. Whichever comes first."
He looked at her for a long moment. Then nodded. "You'll get your chance. But you're on a leash, doc. You break trust again, and I won't ask for permission to shut it all down."
"That's why you're here." She almost smiled. "Not to climb the ranks. But to keep the monsters from slipping back in."
Behind them, a convoy of DEO trucks rolled through the gates. Men and women in suits followed closely by League-affiliated metahuman consultants and armored escorts. The press clustered along the perimeter, cameras already trained on the rebuilding effort like vultures with tripods.
Guardian grunted. "Everyone wants a headline."
Spence raised her chin. "Let them have one. I want a firewall."
"Then you'd better build fast."
Just then, a young intern in a reflective vest and smeared goggles sprinted up with a tablet clutched to his chest.
"Dr. Spence! Sorry—you need to see this."
She took the tablet, scrolling fast. Her eyes narrowed.
"Vault Theta," she murmured. "Weird readings. Psi-resonance patterns forming in geometric loops."
"What kind of weird?" Guardian asked.
The intern blanched. "Like… whispering static. Emotional bleed-off. Stuff that shouldn't be active. There's… humming."
Guardian's hand went to the grip of his shield.
Spence pulled her coat tighter and turned back toward the site. "All right. We'll check it. Together."
Guardian gave her a look. "You always walk toward the creepy sounds?"
"Only the ones I helped create," she replied.
He snorted. "Welcome to Cadmus 2.0."
As they descended the lift toward Vault Theta, the sunlight faded behind them. Down below, something in the dark was humming—softly, steadily, like a buried memory trying to breathe again.
—
Elsewhere – Location: Classified
Somewhere untraceable. Time: Unknown.
The chamber wasn't carved from stone—it was carved from silence, shaped by intent, and veined with power. A single obsidian table stretched like a wound across the room, etched with symbols even gods had forgotten. Around it, figures shimmered into existence, not with sound, but with presence.
Vandal Savage stood at the center of it all, flesh and blood and infinity wrapped in a charcoal coat. He didn't sit. He never did.
"We are exposed," said Ra's al Ghul, his voice smooth and sharpened like a Damascus blade. "The Cadmus site burns, and with it, our secrecy."
"Worse," Queen Bee added, appearing in a veil of amber shimmer, her smile thin and predatory. "The clone has gone rogue. Guardian has been handed the keys to the kingdom. A man with ideals—how quaint."
Klarion floated in upside down, legs folded like a child perched in an invisible hammock, red eyes gleaming with mischief and malice. "They broke my spell lattice! My beautiful, twitchy, planar lattice. Vault Theta was humming with dimensional potential—reality spiders were days from hatching!"
"No one cares about your arachnid fetish," Brain cut in coldly, his distorted synthetic voice devoid of emotion. His image crackled slightly, as if space itself disliked his presence. "Project Kr was our cornerstone. The Superboy unit has formed emotional bonds—with the Kryptonian children and the others. Recalibrating his loyalty matrix is now... inefficient."
"Pfft. Please," Lex Luthor said, inspecting a nonexistent speck on his lapel as his hologram leaned back with unnerving poise. Bald, crisp-suited, and looking like he'd sell you a better future soaked in acid. "Teenagers are malleable. Put enough weight on their guilt, their grief, their pride—and they crack. Superboy will come home. All we need is the right fracture."
Ocean-Master's voice was a low, tidal growl. "And Cadmus itself? Rebuilding under the League's eye. No more shadows to work in. No more failsafes."
"Incorrect," Savage finally said, the low baritone of his voice enough to still the chamber like a god pressing his thumb to the world.
All eyes—glowing, human, and otherwise—turned to him.
Savage began to walk slowly around the obsidian table, hands clasped behind his back. "Cadmus was always a shell. A distraction. Let them rebuild. Let Guardian believe he's cleansed it. Transparency is merely another form of camouflage."
He paused, meeting Brain's cold gaze. "Project Kr was a prototype. There are deeper vaults. Older subjects. The real experiments were never stored in files—they were stored in contingency."
Queen Bee narrowed her eyes. "And the children?"
Savage smiled—barely. A flicker. A tremor in granite.
"They are what they've always been: the future. And we shall shape the future, not by breaking them… but by offering them power when their mentors falter. Trust is brittle. Pain is patient."
Klarion giggled, flipping upright midair. "Can I please do the pain part?"
"No," Brain said flatly.
"Yes," Savage said, in the same breath.
Klarion squealed with delight and vanished briefly into his own smoke.
Ra's inclined his head. "And what of the League? Their surveillance will increase. Their numbers grow. New Lanterns, Martian hybrids, witches with poor impulse control."
"They are ants with radios," Savage replied. "No matter how much they talk, they cannot stop the tide. Let them train their proteges. Let them dream of peace. It makes their fall more satisfying."
"I'll begin work on the fallback clones," Luthor said, adjusting a cufflink. "And perhaps leak a few breadcrumbs into Jessica Cruz's nightmares. That ring responds to fear, after all."
"Meanwhile," Queen Bee said, lips curling, "I'll make sure Miss Martian's family tree gets a few new roots. Deep ones."
Ocean-Master growled low in agreement. "Let them think they're building a team. Let them form bonds. Trust. Family."
Savage reached the head of the table again and looked out at the projection of Earth. A marble. A toy.
"And when the time comes," he said, "we will take it from them."
A long silence. The kind that comes before storm or slaughter.
Luthor gave a short nod. "Then we adapt."
"We always do," Savage echoed.
The Light faded—one by one.
But somewhere in the world, Vault Theta hummed.
Waiting.
—
Secret Sanctuary – Main Hall
One month after Watchtower meeting
The cavernous hall of the Secret Sanctuary felt both ancient and futuristic — shadows stretched long beneath soaring steel girders, and banks of tactical holo-displays flickered softly. Dust motes floated in shafts of artificial light, as if the air itself remembered battles yet to come.
Batman stood at the center, his silhouette a fortress of dark determination beneath the heavy cowl. The teenagers, freshly minted from probation and barely tamed, clustered uneasily around him. The weight of expectations and the nervous buzz of being watched thrummed like static electricity.
"Welcome to Mount Justice," Batman said, voice low and sharp. "Your home now. Provided you operate under League terms."
Solaris folded his arms, emerald eyes gleaming with barely contained impatience. "So this is it? Our new HQ? Looks like a glorified cave with fancy toys." His smirk carried equal parts charm and challenge.
Troia, arms crossed, stepped forward, voice cool but unmistakably teasing. "Maybe. But better than your brooding glare and that 'I'm saving the world' attitude."
Solaris shot her a sharp look, lips twitching. "You love it. Admit it."
Troia smirked, flicking a stray strand of her dark hair. "Only when you stop trying to steal my thunder."
Sentinel leaned against a nearby pillar, pale green eyes glinting with amused skepticism. "And here I thought this was a serious meeting."
"Serious as a heart attack," Batman growled. "Red Tornado will supervise your missions. Black Canary runs your combat training."
A sudden gust of synthetic wind announced Red Tornado's arrival. His metallic form shimmered crimson in the dim light. "I am honored to guide you. Discipline will be your strongest weapon."
Black Canary followed, her voice low and steady, sharp as a blade. "And I'll make sure you can survive long enough to wield it."
Supergirl, fierce even when barely containing her nerves, stepped forward. "So we're covert ops now? Ghosts and shadows instead of spotlight?"
Batman inclined his head. "You operate in the cracks. The League handles the headlines."
Superboy lingered at the edge, quiet but burning with a mix of defiance and longing. His gaze flicked between Batman and the others like he was trying to figure out where he fit.
The air shimmered suddenly as a blue Zeta Tube sparked alive, depositing Martian Manhunter in his calm, commanding presence. Behind him stepped two newcomers: Miss Martian, vibrant and curious, and Jessica Cruz, fierce-eyed and guarded.
Batman gestured. "Meet your extended team."
Miss Martian gave a polite, slightly nervous smile. "I'm M'gann M'orzz, niece to J'onn here. Looking forward to working with you all."
Jessica Cruz's eyes flicked around, determination wrapped in vulnerability. "Jessica Cruz. New Green Lantern. Still learning to fly… literally."
Kid Flash, bouncing on his toes like a hyperactive puppy, grinned wildly. "Alright! Everyone, meet the real MVPs—M'gann and Jessica! Ready to light this place up?"
He winked at both girls and then faltered, cheeks reddening. "Uh… or, you know, whatever. No pressure."
Solistice, thirteen and quietly powerful, rolled her eyes but smiled shyly at Jessica, who gave her a quick nod of encouragement.
Enchantress, hair tousled and attitude sharp, flicked a glance at Superboy—who looked momentarily thrown by Miss Martian's easy warmth. The corner of her mouth twitched with mischievous approval.
Sentinel caught Jessica's eye and held it a beat longer than necessary. Something unspoken passed between them, a silent promise or a warning.
Superboy finally broke the silence, voice low and rough. "Looks like we're more than just a team."
Solaris chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair. "Great. Drama and missions. Just what I wanted."
Troia shot him a sideways glare. "You're impossible. But fine—try not to get us all killed."
Solaris grinned, stepping closer. "You first, shadow girl."
Troia's eyes flashed defiantly. "Bring it on, sun boy."
Batman's voice rang out, cutting through the swirling tension. "Discipline. Loyalty. The cost of failure. Learn these well."
Black Canary smiled, fierce and encouraging. "And remember this—survival is the real victory."
The young heroes stood together — bruised, uncertain, but burning with potential.
Mount Justice was their crucible.
The world was watching.
And the fire had just been lit.
—
Secret Sanctuary – Main Hall
After introductions, the team begins to settle in. The weight of legacy mixes with raw, youthful energy, sparking chemistry, challenges, and that unmistakable teenage awkwardness.
Kid Flash bounced nervously on the balls of his feet, cheeks flushed like he'd just sprinted a hundred meters. He sidled up to Miss Martian with a grin that teetered somewhere between "smooth" and "trainwreck."
"Hey, M'gann," he started, voice a little too high. "Ever race across a Martian desert? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I'm the fastest thing this side of the galaxy."
M'gann blinked, amused but genuinely confused. "Uh... no. But I did outrun a telepathic feedback loop once."
Wally laughed awkwardly. "Okay, okay, that's definitely cooler."
Before he could add anything else, Jessica Cruz—arms crossed, a sharp brow raised—pulled him aside.
"Seriously, Wally?" Jessica's tone was teasing but firm. "You can't flirt your way out of a mid-air collision."
Wally threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm a work in progress, Jess."
Jessica smirked. "More like a work in crash."
Off to the side, Sentinel leaned against a pillar, pale green eyes gleaming with that perfect mix of amusement and exasperation as Solaris and Troia engaged in their usual verbal sparring.
Solaris's emerald eyes glittered mischievously. "Come on, Troia. Admit it—you'd miss my brooding if I wasn't around."
Troia crossed her arms, one eyebrow arched. "I'd miss the world ending less without your brooding, sun boy."
Solaris stepped closer, voice low and teasing. "You love it. Don't try to hide it."
Troia shot him a fiery glare, but the ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. "Only when you stop stealing my thunder."
Nearby, Enchantress lounged against a wall, hair tousled, eyes flicking between the bickering pair and Superboy with a sly grin. She twirled a strand of hair and muttered under her breath, "Drama's definitely heating up."
Superboy stood stiffly near the new flight suit—an elegant black armored bodysuit etched with glowing red runes and emblazoned with the House of El symbol, black and crimson.
Solaris clapped him on the shoulder, grinning like the proud older brother he was. "Ready to finally fly, sun boy?"
Superboy scowled, folding his arms. "I still can't fly. What, you think this fancy armor's gonna do the trick?"
Sentinel stepped forward, hand brushing the rune-etched fabric. "It's not just armor. It's Kryptonian tech merged with rune magic, and a little help from Mom and Dad."
Solistice nodded, eyes bright. "Scarlett and Clark helped design it. And Kelex coded the rune interface to tap yellow sun radiation. The runes use that energy instead of magic — since you're not magic."
Superboy's eyes flickered, interest piqued despite himself. "So, tech and magic without magic?"
"Exactly." Solaris smiled, carefully helping Superboy into the suit. The armor hummed softly with energy.
Sentinel added softly, "It's armored, too. You won't just fly—you'll be protected. Ready for whatever comes next."
Superboy swallowed hard, voice quieter. "Okay... I'm in."
Solaris smirked. "Thought you'd never ask."
Kid Flash gave a dramatic thumbs-up to Jessica and M'gann. "See? Tech magic, awkward flirting, and epic gear. This team's gonna be unstoppable."
Jessica rolled her eyes but smiled, while M'gann nudged Wally playfully. "Maybe just stick to running for now."
Wally grinned, cheeks still pink. "Hey, progress, people. Progress."
The tension broke with laughter, the weight of responsibility momentarily lightened. But beneath the humor, everyone knew what lay ahead.
Mount Justice was no longer just a name. It was their home. Their crucible. Their family.
And the sky above was waiting—vast, limitless, and calling.
—
The sky cracked open like a promise.
Superboy hovered a foot above the launch platform, fists clenched at his sides, breath held like he might jinx the whole thing. His new flight suit shimmered in the golden light, the red runes glowing faintly against the matte black armor. The House of El sigil, redesigned in sharp crimson and obsidian lines, stood bold against his chest. Every cell in his body hummed with solar-charged energy.
Solaris floated nearby, arms folded across his broad chest, emerald eyes gleaming with that trademark smugness. His windswept brown hair ruffled just so, because of course it did.
"No pressure, little brother," he called, his voice all teasing warmth and carefully disguised encouragement. "Just defy gravity and your entire traumatic upbringing. Easy stuff."
"Helpful," Superboy muttered.
Solistice zipped around them in a slow spiral, hair trailing like golden thread. "Come on, Kon. You've literally punched meteors. What's a little flying to round out your Superman starter kit?"
"You all suck," Superboy grumbled, but his voice cracked into a nervous laugh. Then, with one sharp breath and a defiant grunt, he launched.
Wind screamed past his ears, his body tensed and bucking against the initial lift, but the armor held. Runes pulsed. Thrusters balanced. And then—stability.
He was flying.
"Holy crap," he breathed. "I'm flying."
Below, Solaris whooped, pumping a fist. "There it is! He's airborne!"
"Now let's see if he can turn without crashing into a bird," Troia said as she soared up beside Solaris, dark hair streaming like a banner.
Solaris gave her a crooked grin. "Jealous I'm still prettier in the air?"
She rolled her eyes. "Please. You fly like you think the wind owes you something."
"It does," he said with a wink.
"Ugh. You're the reason we need a PR team."
"You love it."
"I tolerate it."
Sentinel cut through the sky like a missile, pale green eyes tracking Superboy. "Tag. You're it, Kal-El 2.0."
"Wait, what?"
Supergirl burst into the sky, trailing a boom behind her. "You heard the man. Catch us if you can!"
Troia gave Superboy a mischievous grin. "Try not to cry if I leave you in my dust."
"You're all terrible people," Superboy muttered—and dove after her.
The sky erupted into chaos.
Solaris shot upward with a trail of heat shimmer, darting between Sentinel and Supergirl before tapping Sentinel's shoulder. "Tag. Boom."
Sentinel grimaced. "You're going to regret that."
"Doubt it."
He dove after Enchantress.
"Seriously?!" Enchantress shrieked, twisting through the air. Her hair whipped across her face as she summoned a flicker of power—which the suit promptly suppressed. "No powers during tag!"
Solistice zipped past, grinning. "Then fly faster, drama queen!"
Meanwhile, Superboy chased Troia in tight circles, his focus locked. "You always this annoying, or just when I'm flying for the first time?"
"I only tease the ones I like," she shot back.
He blinked, missed a turn, and nearly collided with Solaris.
"Eyes up, Romeo," Solaris called.
Troia laughed so hard she lost altitude.
Below, Wally stood on the platform, hands cupped around his mouth. "HELLO? Some of us can't fly! This feels exclusionary!"
Jessica Cruz hovered beside him, arms folded, the green glow of her ring casting soft shadows over her determined face. "You're faster than sound, Wally. Get over it."
"Emotionally? I am deeply offended."
Miss Martian floated gently beside them, her tone apologetic. "We could do a ground relay after. If you want."
Wally brightened instantly. "Martian speed-date relay. It's a date. I mean! Not a date-date. Unless you—"
Jessica flicked a pebble at his head with her ring. "Stop talking."
Back in the sky, the game intensified.
Superboy finally clipped Troia's ankle with a controlled burst and a smug, "Tag."
She gasped theatrically. "You dare."
"I do."
Supergirl arced overhead. "This team is doomed."
Solaris hovered again, arms spread wide like a sun god surveying his temple. Troia landed next to him, breathless but triumphant.
"Admit it," she said, catching her breath. "You're proud of him."
Solaris gave a faint smile. "Just a little. But don't tell him. I have a reputation."
She bumped his shoulder. "Your secret's safe with me, sun boy."
"Don't call me that."
"Then stop glowing when you flirt."
"I'm literally solar-powered."
"Excuses."
Below, Black Canary watched from a balcony, arms crossed. Red Tornado stood beside her, expression unreadable.
"They're still a mess," she said.
"They are becoming something," Red Tornado replied. "Something they must become together."
"A team," she said.
"Eventually."
She smiled faintly. "Let them have this moment."
Above, twelve silhouettes danced against the gold-streaked sky. Not perfect. Not even close. But rising.
Because for the first time, they weren't just flying.
They were flying together.
—
The sky outside bled into twilight, painting the wide glass windows of the sanctuary in bruised purples and smoldering gold. The team, fresh from their first full-air run, sprawled across the common room like the aftermath of a small, well-dressed hurricane. Water bottles littered the low table. Sweat gleamed on foreheads. Hearts beat slower, but the high lingered.
Solaris lay flat on the floor, the House of El Crest of his black and red bodysuit sticking to his chest, emerald eyes tracking the ceiling lazily like constellations were hiding in the steelwork. He lifted one hand and exhaled. "Okay," he said, voice thick with exhaustion and smug satisfaction, "That was... objectively awesome."
"Only 'objectively'?" Superboy grunted from the armrest nearby, half-suited, his new armor unzipped to the waist, steam still faintly rising from the red runes. "Dude, I was flying."
Solaris grinned up at him. "No training wheels, even. You grow up so fast."
Across from them, Troia dropped into a beanbag, kicking her boots off with a huff. "You? Modest? What timeline are we in?"
"The one where I still outflew you," Solaris replied smoothly.
She rolled her eyes. "You flared like a disco ball on fire. I was trying not to blind the others."
"Aw, you noticed me?" He sat up, pushing sweaty hair out of his face. "That almost sounds like affection."
"That almost sounds like projection," she shot back, and tossed him a protein bar.
Solistice, curled in the window nook with her boots tucked beneath her, giggled into her bottle. "Guys, seriously, the rest of us were playing tag. You two were doing... aerial foreplay."
Troia sputtered, cheeks darkening. "We were coordinating."
"Sure," Enchantress said from the couch, lying upside down with her hair brushing the carpet, black nails picking at a loose thread. "'Push me into a dive and I'll catch you' is basically sky-flirting."
"I'm so uncomfortable," Superboy muttered.
"And yet intrigued," Supergirl murmured from beside him, pulling her blonde hair into a braid.
Jessica floated overhead, arms crossed as she drifted near the ceiling like a lazy comet. "Can we please not flirt in midair? That's how people get concussed."
"Or married," Enchantress added. "Depending on the fandom."
"And now I'm traumatized," Kid Flash mumbled from the floor, where he was splayed out starfish-style.
M'gann passed him a cold pack. "You kept running into walls."
"Because I can't fly," he whined. "This is discrimination."
"You almost broke your nose," Sentinel pointed out mildly, leaning against the archway like he'd been carved there. He was all quiet strength, black hair damp with sweat, pale green eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Again."
"Details," Wally muttered.
There was a lull. One of those rare silences that felt unearned and sharp-edged.
Across the room, Robin had gone still. Not statue still. Tense. He sat on the back of the couch, arms resting on his knees, jaw tight.
Aqualad leaned against the wall near him. He hadn't spoken much since they returned. That alone was telling.
Kid Flash noticed too. "You guys good?"
Robin didn't look away from the (fake) fire. "Roy should've been here."
Wally sat up. "Yeah. He's part of this. Or he should've been."
Aqualad nodded once. "We started this together. The four of us. Sidekicks. Waiting for the call."
"Now we've answered it," Robin said softly. "And he's still out there. Alone. Angry."
Jessica floated down to sit beside M'gann. "He sounds hurt."
"He is," Robin said.
Solaris sat up fully now, expression sharpening. "Then call him. Text him. Send a Zeta courier. Hell, I'll fly out there and yell at him until he listens."
Robin glanced over. "We've tried."
Solistice looked over gently. "Try again."
Aqualad straightened. "We bring our brother home."
Robin stood. Wally rose beside him. Kaldur followed.
No dramatic music. Just the solid sound of three pairs of boots moving in unison, heading toward the comm room.
Behind them, silence reigned for a beat. Then Superboy said softly, "Think he'll answer?"
Solaris shrugged. "Some of us take the long way back. Doesn't mean they don't want to come home."
Above the Zeta platform, the lights flickered gently.
Somewhere, far away, a redheaded archer's phone buzzed on a cracked nightstand.
[Message Received: 'We miss you. Come home.']
—
Jump City – Rooftops Above the Bay
Same Night Wind: Cold and Sharp Roy Harper's First Patrol as Red Arrow
The wind bit sharper up here, slicing through the night like a whisper with teeth.
Roy didn't flinch.
Not through the new armor — black and crimson, light but lethal, custom-fitted like second skin. Carbon-threaded mesh beneath leather plating. Sleek, scarred, dangerous. Just like him.
His matte-black bow — collapsible, pressure-triggered — rested diagonally across his back, its weight more comfort than burden. The rooftops stretched out ahead of him like a jagged jungle gym, and below, Jump City pulsed with neon and headlights and the soft, wet glisten of recent rain.
A fresh start.
That's what they said.
New city. New mission. New name.
No more whispers of Green Arrow's kid. No more shadows of Speedy. No more sideways looks from League seniors or the pity stares from the Team. No more "You doing okay, Roy?"
He wasn't okay. Not really. But that wasn't the point.
He was alive. Functional. Armed.
Red Arrow.
Roy adjusted the gauntlet on his left wrist, the one with the retractable blade. It clicked into place with a satisfying snap. Somewhere below, in the alley choked between a bodega and a pawn shop, he spotted movement.
Three guys. Hooded. Nervous. Two with glocks tucked into jackets. One with jittery hands and a loose grip on a duffel bag that screamed "smack."
He rolled his shoulders, pulled up his hood, and took a step closer to the edge.
That's when his phone buzzed.
Once.
He ignored it.
Twice.
His fingers twitched.
Third time. A long, low buzz.
He growled under his breath and yanked the phone from a side compartment in his belt. The screen was still cracked from last week — a metahuman with fists like wrecking balls — and the battery glared red: 19%.
Sender: Robin
Message: We miss you. Come home.
He just stared at it.
Three words. That was all.
Three words that slammed into his chest like a gut punch. No guilt trip. No sarcasm. Just Dick being... Dick.
Roy's jaw tightened. His fingers clenched around the phone.
"Damn you, Dick," he muttered.
The message burned behind his eyes as he shoved the phone back into his belt and stood. For a long second, he considered just standing there. Letting the wind take him. Just one step off the edge—
But that wasn't who he was anymore.
He vaulted over the ledge in one clean, silent motion.
The fire escape rattled under his boots as he descended, but by the time he dropped into the alley, he was a ghost — crouched between two dumpsters, his bow in hand, already drawn.
The closest dealer turned just in time to see a crimson blur, then his weapon — a lead pipe — thunked against the brick wall behind him, pinned by an arrow through the middle.
Roy stood as the other two lunged. The first fired. Too slow.
Thwip-thwip-thwip.
Three arrows in rapid succession — one in the knee, one in the shoulder, one slicing the handgun clean from the second thug's hand. He screamed. Roy didn't blink.
The third guy tried to run. Mistake.
Roy rolled forward, came up spinning, and sent a flashbang arrow skimming off the pavement. Light and sound exploded like a lightning strike. The runner hit the wall blind.
Then Roy was on him.
He slammed him down with a forearm across the throat. Not hard enough to crush. Just enough to remind him.
"Bad night to get bold," Roy muttered, voice low and rough like sandpaper on steel.
The fight was over in twenty seconds.
Twenty seconds of silence, violence, and breathing like fire through grit teeth.
Roy stood over the unconscious trio, chest heaving, and looked up. The narrow strip of sky above was bleeding stars, the moon sharp and white. Somewhere out there, Mount Justice was sleeping beneath the mountain. Probably glowing softly. Probably safe.
He could almost hear Kaldur's calm voice. Almost smell Wally's cologne mixed with sweat and french fries. Almost feel the hum of the Zeta Tube beneath his boots.
Almost.
He didn't pull out the phone again.
Didn't open the message.
But he didn't delete it either.
Instead, he tapped his comm. Not the League frequency. Not the ops channel.
The old one.
The one only four voices used. Used to use.
Static cracked faintly. Then silence.
"Robin," Roy said quietly. "If you're listening... I'm not saying yes."
A beat. The siren of a patrol car howled somewhere in the distance.
"But I'm not saying no either."
He cut the line.
Slung the bow back over his shoulder.
And melted into the alley shadows like smoke into the wind.
Above him, high on the rooftops, the red of his hood caught the moonlight like a flare waiting to be seen.
A warning.
A signal.
A promise.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Click the link below to join the conversation:
Can't wait to see you there!
If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:
Or through my Buy Me a Coffee page:
Thank you for your support!