Inside, the warehouse was drowned in the shadows of night, lit only by moonlight filtering through its shattered windows. Everything was still—except for the deadly dance between two blades.
Slade's gleaming, heavy sword clashed against Blade's twin blades—once on the right! Then a sudden swipe to the left! The sound of polished metal slicing the air collided with another blade in a burst of sparks, lighting up their faces, both carved in focus.
They each stepped back, eyes locked, breathing hard but silent. No words were exchanged—only the swords spoke.
Suddenly, Slade attacked, bringing his sword down in a vertical smash. The sound of the strike echoed through the hollow warehouse, filling the cold void. Blade parried with a sharp angle of his right sword, twisted his body, and struck with the left in a counterattack.
Sparks flew again. The smell of hot metal filled the air.
Outside, explosions rumbled. Brief tongues of flame flickered from cracked windows. The muffled hum of laser fire from the robots echoed faintly—but inside, the warehouse remained a nearly silent battleground, broken only by the clash of blades.
Each strike came lightning-fast, each seeking flesh and bone. Blade moved with wicked precision, his blades dancing. Slade responded with calculated movements, slicing the air sharply, blocking, countering.
Cold sweat rolled down their faces, sometimes mixed with blood from a scratch or a glancing blow.
There was no screaming. No threats. No laughter this time.
A strong side strike from Slade forced Blade back two steps—he steadied his stance with effort, caught his breath, then lunged forward in a sudden assault!
The ringing of steel grew sharper, like it was striking the heart of the abandoned warehouse. Dust rose from the floor under their violent footwork.
An outside explosion lit their faces for a brief second—and in that flash, they looked like battling beasts.
Blades tense.
Eyes promising death.
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Then a heavy silence, broken only by the grinding of metal—clinnk… chakk… klaaang…
It slowed briefly—each watching the other...
Then suddenly, they exploded into action again.
The chaos outside grew wilder—flames licked the horizon of the industrial zone—but inside this warehouse, the silence was more terrifying, more focused. Here, death hid in every strike.
Blade exhaled deeply, as if growing bored of the bloody dance. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he began fighting with visible laziness—blocking Slade's attacks with minimal effort, swinging his sword slowly, mockingly.
Slade, his single eye watching every move, spotted an opening. He pressed forward suddenly—his blade struck deep into Blade's side, the gash clear, blood spilling in a dark trail.
Slade froze, watching his opponent, waiting for him to fall.
But Blade didn't move.
He stood there.
Blood dripping from him.
His piercing eye unblinking.
His mask half-lifted.
A mad grin painted on half his face.
He lowered his head slightly—and Slade heard something strange.
The wound was closing—slowly—right in front of his eyes.
Blade spoke in a calm voice, like explaining something in a dull lecture:
"That was a great fight, truly. Applause all around.
But... I'm bored now."
Then he lifted his head, eyes gleaming with silent madness:
"Let's end this."
He lunged forward like a storm—this time, with no mercy.
A strike to the shoulder.
To the side.
Below the stomach.
Across the forearm.
His attacks were precise, calculated, deadly with every blow.
He forced Slade back meter by meter—panting, struggling to block, but failing against Blade's ferocious, systematic onslaught.
Finally, a slanted side slash tore across Slade's chest deeply.
Warm blood sprayed into the air.
Slade staggered back, gasping hard.
The warehouse fell silent for a moment.
Slade clutched his wound, staring at his opponent.
Then the wall exploded.
Metal panels and stones blasted inward—
A massive robot surged in, its eyes glowing red like embers.
It extended its mechanical arms, grabbed the wounded Slade brutally, lifting him like a broken puppet.
Blade raised his sword to strike—
But the robot suddenly turned, fired up jets from its metallic legs, and burst through the remaining wall.
It flew out of the warehouse at high speed, carrying Slade away.
The sound of stormy wind drowned out Slade's muffled screams as both vanished into the fiery, explosion-lit horizon of the industrial zone.
Blade stood there, catching his breath, lazily resting his swords on his shoulders, staring at the gaping hole the robot left behind.
He muttered dryly, voice laced with sarcasm:
"Well... you could've just said you needed a ride."
He sighed deeply, wiped blood from his lips, and gazed into the flickering firelight outside—ready for the next round.
Blade dashed out through the broken wall in a blur, his hand gripping the MP5 like an extension of his arm.
His face was half-covered in dried blood he hadn't even bothered to wipe, and his eyes sparkled with playful madness as he raised his weapon:
"Ah, my dear tin cans! You missed the indoor party! Allow me to make it up to you!"
He squeezed the trigger.
Bullets poured out savagely, tearing through metal armor, sparks flying in the dark.
Robin's voice shouted over the comms:
"Blade?! How did you get out so fast?!"
Blade replied with a laugh:
"Magic trick, Robin! I just got out of a toxic relationship in there! Literally—the wall's no longer an issue!"
He leapt over scattered metal debris, veered to the side, and fired a side burst that dropped a robot advancing on Cyborg.
Cyborg (in surprise): "Did you finish it that fast?"
Blade (whistling): "Yeah! Unless you count the part where a clingy ex tried to enslave me like I'm some... no no, never mind."
Raven emerged from behind a swirl of dark smoke, her eye glowing with shadow energy. She spotted Blade recklessly chasing another robot.
Raven (dryly): "You think you're a superhero?"
Blade (while firing): "I'm something between a comedy magician and a deadly clown! I'll explain later, remind me."
As he fired, everyone noticed the lines of robots beginning to retreat slowly—moving in a synchronized pattern, as if receiving an order to pull back.
Robin (seriously): "They're retreating! What did you do in there?!"
Blade (cheerfully): "Ah, let's just say their leader got a sweet discount on medical care! He might come back later to sue me—who knows?"
Cyborg narrowed his eyes at him.
Cyborg: "Was this your plan all along?"
Blade (winking): "My plan was to act out a K-drama... the bonus is we get to celebrate afterward like maniacs. I'm generous by nature!"
The Titans exchanged glances as the fighting slowly died down, smoke drifting into the night. Burned-out robots lay scattered across the industrial street.
Blade stood in front, slinging the MP5 over his shoulder, giving a mock military salute with a hand smeared in oil and blood.
Blade: "I like to be a pleasant surprise. Or an annoying one. I'm multi-purpose."
Then he turned toward Robin and the rest of the team.
They advanced down the dark industrial street, between shattered containers and rising smoke pillars. The robots had begun reorganizing, their mechanical voices rising in scrambled commands.
Robin raised his hand:
Robin: "Alright team, attack formation! We're not letting them flank us!"
Cyborg, powering up his cannon: "Got it! Time to mash them like potatoes!"
Blade, waving his weapon: "Are the potatoes mechanical? Do they need lube? I need details before I invest in this cooking show starring a girl in a tight outfit with exposed thighs."
Cyborg (exasperated): "Blade... focus."
Blade: "Impossible! But I'll try—for you, my beloved husband."
The first row of robots exploded.
Starfire, flying and firing energy blasts: "What are these? Do they not resemble mechanical servants?"
Robin: "Slade's private army! Advanced tech bots."
Starfire: "Ah, reminds me of my mother's servant army! They were much kinder."
Blade, while shooting: "Your mom has excellent taste! Do they have any job openings? I'll be unemployed after tonight."
He ducked just in time as a robotic arm exploded right in front of him.
– Raven, with her usual dry wit: "Blade, shut up."
– Blade: "It's hard! My voice doesn't come with a mute button—but for the sake of seeing your beauty, I'll try to build one later."
He jumped over a robot, slicing its power cable with his sword.
– Robin shouted: "Right side! Right side!"
– Blade, firing a burst: "Sorry Robin, I can't tell right from left under pressure! Guide me like I'm a toddler!"
An explosion erupted behind him, metal shards flying.
– Starfire, excited: "It seems they are weakening!"
– Blade let out a laugh: "Yeah, feels like I'm on an iron diet! Burning calories!"
Raven drifted beside him, her shadow shield blocking debris.
– Raven: "Try not to die or get hurt… wait, I forgot—you can't die."
– Blade, cheerfully: "Oh mysterious witch, I won't let you raise sad memories because of me!"
– Cyborg: "Left side! More incoming!"
– Blade: "How's the right? I want some variety in my combat nutrition."
Everyone ran forward—firing, shouting, striking.
– Starfire launched a huge energy blast: "What is that big thing?!"
– Robin, leaping and striking with his bo staff: "Heavy support robot! Break it apart!"
– Blade: "Easy! I'll call my mom to help us—oh right, dead! Guess I'll settle for a headshot."
He fired a focused burst at the power joint. The heavy robot exploded.
– Cyborg, blasting with his cannon: "Last two! Blade, cover me!"
– Blade: "Top-notch cover coming up! No refunds if it fails though!"
He fired wildly, jumping through the air.
– Starfire, laughing: "He is funny!"
– Raven (rolling her eyes): "Unfortunately."
– Robin: "Don't encourage him. He gets worse when he feels loved."
– Blade: "I heard that! And I feel overwhelmed with love! Come, my ridiculous family, let's hug naked under the sun in the middle of the city!"
With one final shot, the last robot exploded. Silence fell suddenly. Smoke rose. Metal pieces glowed hot.
They all stood catching their breath.
– Robin: "Alright… area temporarily secured."
– Blade, raising his hands in childish victory: "Yes! We murdered metal! A historic achievement—now where are my Playboy magazines?!"
– Raven, wiping sweat off her forehead: "Idiot."
– Blade, placing a hand on his chest: "Oh, my heart. You've wounded it, shadow kitten."
Cyborg chuckled as he inspected his damaged arm.
– "Well team, that was something."
– Blade, winking: "It was a party. And I promise the next one—more explosions, less logic, and plenty of BBQ and that weird dish Starfire makes that Beast Boy loves... I forgot the name."
– Starfire, cheerfully and excitedly: "Really, Beast Boy? You like the traditional Blorg dish from my homeworld? I shall bring you thousands of servings!"
– Beast Boy, shouting: "Blade, I swear I'll get my revenge on you one day!"