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Chapter 42 - Personal Weapon's

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As the sky was shrouded in ashen clouds and the road to the Titans' HQ was eerily quiet,

Blade walked beside Harley Quinn with heavy steps—not from exhaustion, but from the thoughts bouncing in his head like clowns in an abandoned circus.

He suddenly looked at her, placing a hand on his head as if remembering something extremely important, then said in his usual sarcastic tone, masked with seriousness:

"Ah, hold up, my favorite clown... there's a tiny thing the size of a building we need to discuss before we go in."

Harley stopped walking, tilting her head toward him as she chewed on a piece of imaginary gum.

"Speak, oh mighty leader... is there a dragon waiting for me inside?"

Blade smiled faintly, then sighed and said:

"Closer than a dragon… it's a team of heroes, with a dramatic flair and zero trust in newcomers.

And if they see you with me, one of two things will happen:

Either you'll be thrown in a cell at the speed of light,

Or — and this is worse — Raven might blow you up with a single look."

Harley raised an eyebrow, intrigued:

"Raven? That gloomy girl with the haunted eyes? Wow, I think we're gonna be besties in no time!"

Blade chuckled, then stepped closer and said in a low but serious voice:

"I'll try to defend you — I'll talk, joke, yell, maybe even throw a wrench at Cyborg if I have to…

But you… you've got to do your part.

If things go bad, fall back. Got it?"

Harley Quinn gave him a knowing smile, that kind of smile that hides more than it reveals.

Then she said in a sudden calm tone Blade wasn't used to hearing from her:

"I don't think the time's right just yet…

I know how these things go.

I'll go back to what I do best — acting, wrecking things, and overdoing my makeup."

Then she placed a finger on his chest and added:

"But if you want me later… you know how to find me, right?"

Blade gave her a half-broken, half-sarcastic smile:

"Of course. I'll look for you among the victims… or the clowns."

Harley turned around and walked away, swaying with her usual rhythm like a dancer in a mad show,

and waved at him without looking back:

"Goodbye, hero… or demon… or maybe both."

Blade stood still for a few moments, staring into the empty space where Harley had vanished.

Then he muttered to himself as he slipped his mask back on:

"This world is getting crazier... or maybe I'm just getting used to it."

He turned toward the Titans' HQ, ready to face the questions, the tension, and… Raven's stare.

Blade entered the Titans' headquarters with quiet calm, as if he hadn't disappeared all day, as if his absence was no more than a quick morning stroll for a fancy coffee from another planet.

But the first thing he ran into was Raven's sharp gaze.

She stood before him with her arms crossed, her face expressing only one thing: anger… and a hint of worry, cleverly hidden.

She spoke in a low, charged voice:

"Where have you been all day?"

Blade's steps came to a halt. He spread his arms wide, like an actor on a grand stage, and began speaking with a mix of jest and madness in his voice:

"Ah, dear Raven, shadow companion… I was on a journey. A spiritual, intellectual journey…"

He placed his hand over his heart, pretending to be moved.

"I met the Dark Knight himself, the one who doesn't smile even in passport photos… yes, Batman!"

Raven raised an eyebrow, eyeing him with clear suspicion:

"Batman? Why?"

Blade turned dramatically, as if in a scene from a play, then continued while slowly spinning in place:

"Ah, the Joker… that jester who decided to become a plague upon the universe… I had to ask about his whereabouts, for I had… a gift for him!"

He paused for a moment, then stepped closer and raised his hand like he was sharing a secret:

"A little gift… just a box of psychological pain, wrapped in a killer smile."

Raven narrowed her eyes further, staring at him with that look that meant "I don't believe you, but I'll listen."

She said coldly:

"And why Batman, specifically? No one goes to him unless it's something serious."

Blade took a deep breath, then let out a long sigh:

"Because… he's the only silent one who knows everything about those who laugh too loud."

Then he raised a finger:

"And also because I needed someone more grim than me… just to feel a bit normal."

Raven stared at him for several seconds.

She didn't seem convinced, but she knew he wasn't going to say anything more.

She finally said:

"If I find out you're hiding something… you won't get away from me."

Blade gave a faint, sarcastic smile, placing his hand over his heart:

"Raven... if I'm not honest with you, then with who? Oh, right—myself… but she doesn't believe me either."

Then he continued walking inside the headquarters, waving his hand as if the performance had just ended, whispering to himself:

"Alright, survived round one… now for round two: Robin and the interrogation chair."

Behind him, Raven kept her eyes on him, confused…

Because part of her believed him,

And the other part? It just wanted to understand why he seemed closer to her than anyone else… despite all the madness.

Robin stood at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and eyes locked straight on Blade like a seasoned detective about to uncover the crime of the century.

As Blade approached, Robin said in a stern tone:

"We're going to talk… now."

Blade stopped, let out a soft whistle, and waved casually:

"Oh, welcome, Captain Suspicion… is this an interrogation or a talk show? Should I prepare a cup of tea?"

Robin replied seriously:

"Where have you been all day? Why did you disappear without permission? And what were you doing outside the base?"

Blade stepped a little closer, tilting his head like he was pondering deeply:

"Hmm… would you prefer a chronological order of events? Or the artistically chaotic version? Because I'm really good at the second one."

Robin shouted:

"Blade! This isn't funny! We're a team, we work as one! No one acts solo!"

Blade chuckled softly, then pointed at Robin:

"Robin, my dear… you're like a walking rulebook, marching and shouting regulations. But hear me out: sometimes, you need a bit of madness to balance the order… and lucky for you, I happen to have a very generous supply of that madness."

Robin stepped forward, his glare unwavering:

"Were you with the Joker? Did you make contact with enemies?"

Blade sighed, placing his hands behind his back and speaking in a dramatic tone:

"Maybe… and maybe I was looking for answers. Maybe I walked through an inner hell wearing a clown's smile. And maybe… just maybe, I did what you couldn't do… put an end to a persona that lost all meaning long ago."

Robin fell silent, the anger in his eyes slowly turning to confusion:

"What do you mean?"

Blade stepped even closer, just a breath away, looking directly into his eyes and speaking in a low voice:

"I mean… the Joker won't be troubling this world again."

Robin raised his eyebrows slowly, surprise clearly written on his face:

"Did you… did you kill him?"

Blade smiled, but gave no answer. He simply turned away, saying:

"If I had to choose between comedy or catastrophe… I'd create a new kind of both. And the Joker? He was comedy without a soul… now, the show is over."

He walked off, leaving Robin in stunned silence, not knowing whether what he heard was the truth… or just another joke—one of the kinds that doesn't make you laugh.

Blade walked through the long hallway of the Titans' HQ, his steps calm, his inner voice full of confidence and strangeness, as usual. He muttered to himself in a low tone, as if the camera was zooming in on his face in a cinematic scene:

"Now… the threads are pulling just as I want, the chessboard is revealing its players… and it's time for the real game to begin."

The thought had barely finished forming in his mind when a loud, familiar voice snapped him out of it from behind:

"Blaaaaaaaaaade! Hey! Come on, it's done!"

Blade turned around with a half-smile, raising an eyebrow:

"Oh, Cyborg… is it time for digital magic? Or are we about to turn me into Superman with a deadly twist?"

Cyborg chuckled as he waved him into the workshop:

"Time for you to thank me later. Come see for yourself."

Blade stepped into Cyborg's workshop, where the metallic table was covered in tools and small gadgets, blue light reflecting off high-grade scrap, and on the bench lay a pair of specially crafted gloves—alongside a compact ammo case filled with faintly glowing green capsules.

Blade approached and lifted one of the gloves slowly, examining it like a piece of art:

"This… is a masterpiece. How long would it take to order something like this on Amazon?"

Cyborg laughed:

"Ha! No one's got tech like this. I made the gloves with lightweight, anti-corrosion alloys and installed an auto-launch mechanism for the kryptonite capsules… but use it carefully—this isn't a toy."

Blade picked up one of the capsules, rolled it in front of his blue eye, then smirked:

"Green kryptonite… alien killer, lunatic's best friend, and now… my personal weapon in the new game."

Blade then looked at Cyborg and said in a slightly serious tone:

"You do realize this move is going to change a lot of things?"

Cyborg replied, crossing his arms:

"I do... but you said you were ready."

Blade slowly put on the gloves, opening and closing his fists, testing the balance and flexibility. Then he let out a short whistle:

"I'm ready... for the fun, the blood, and the organized madness."

He turned and walked out of the workshop, his final words echoing through the space:

"Let's see who can handle playing by my rules... or rather, by my chaos."

Cyborg muttered to himself as he watched him leave:

"Still not sure if you're a genius... or a walking disaster."

Blade then turned toward the reader and spoke directly:

"Oh, hey, didn't see you there, my dears. I missed you. And this time, I'll say it and mean it—

You really do have tiny dicks.

Haven't talked to you in a while, huh?

Looks like you're bored.

If you're that bored, I'll tell the writer to stop writing and end it all tomorrow."

He sighed, then said:

"Okay, fine, he won't stop just because I ask him to.

I just want you to talk to me.

Send me messages. I want to chat with my fans.

So, you little social pests… go touch some grass and talk to me."

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If you liked the story and want to read more

or just to support me, copy the link below.

You will find a special membership for:

3 chapter

 and another one for:

7 chapters.

patreon.com/zakx205

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