The nightmare came first.
It wasn't a simple dream; it wasn't safe. Titans Tower warped around me. Hallways stretched into infinity, doors bleeding black liquid that lapped at my feet. Light was sickly, dim, casting shadows that moved without source. Sounds were distant, muffled, like I was trapped underwater—but whispers curled around me, low and insidious.
A mirror appeared, black as oil. I saw him again—my father, Trigon—smiling, eyes hungry. "You're just a vessel," he said, "And this is your nature. Embrace it."
No. I couldn't. My soul shrieked, flailing, but the darkness tried to wrap me in comfort.
I tried to run,Every step I took toward the light felt like wading through molasses, every breath a battle.
The floor melted beneath me.
The walls stretched, bending into endless corridors. Tiles rotted under my feet, turning to black liquid that licked my ankles. My teammates were there, their faces distorted, eyes hollow, mouths twisted in silent screams, recoiling from me as if I were the monster I feared I already was.
"No… stop…" I whispered, clawing at the warped walls.
Mirrors lined the halls, each reflection more monstrous than the last. My eyes glowed crimson; wings sprouted behind me, claws scraping against the floor. My own face stared back, demonic, twisted, confirming everything I had feared.
Then the dream shifted. A bright, impossible Azarath bloomed before me. The sun shone, birds sang, everything appeared… perfect. Too perfect. The colors were muted, the warmth absent. The inhabitants' eyes followed me. Smiles were too wide, voices lilting in mocking cadence:
"You've come back… to the home you could have had," they whispered in unison. "No burden, no darkness… just love. Just… peace."
A figure stepped forward. His face… it was soothing, too perfect, offering warmth. "You don't have to bear this," he whispered, voice like honey dripping over broken glass. "Leave the darkness behind. You can be… normal. Loved. Free."
I felt it—desire blooming like a wound inside me. My own soul-self shimmered, wings of shadow stretching, claws flexing. "Let me in," it seemed to hiss, "Let go. You're tired. You deserve this."
The figure stepped closer—hands extended, voice soothing, honeyed. "Give it up, Raven. Give it all up. No powers, no Trigon's legacy. A normal life awaits."
The temptation clawed at me. I stumbled toward him. "I… I—" My voice broke. "I… want that…"
"You can have it. All you've ever wanted," the figure murmured. "No fear, no control. Freedom."
Desire battled instinct. My wings beat frantically. My mantra slipped—Azarath… Metrion… Zinthos…—a fragile thread unraveling. I could feel my own darkness calling, twisting it into something seductive, something I couldn't resist.
"Raven…" Another voice broke through. Megan. Clear, insistent, real. "Focus! Don't let it take you!"
I screamed into the dream, but the sound only echoed back, warped. The black liquid rose, shadows clawed at me, and the wings of my soul-self expanded, lashing out instinctively. My heart thrashed in panic.
"No! Stay with me! Fight!" Megan's voice pierced the darkness.
The room warped. The Azarath figure laughed, eyes gleaming with manipulation. "You belong to me," he hissed. "Your fear, your desires—they are mine."
No. I couldn't. My soul shrieked, flailing, but the darkness tried to wrap me in comfort. Every step I took toward the light felt like wading through molasses, every breath a battle.
Then a voice pierced the haze, soft but insistent. "Raven… can you hear me? Come back."
It was M'gann. Gentle, calm, carrying me like a tether. Her aura brushed my mind, warm and steady. "It's okay. You're here. Fight for yourself."
I clawed at my hood, at myself, at the walls of my mind. The mantra slipped further…
And then reality hit.
I woke violently,
I couldn't respond—my scream erupted before I realized it, a psychic scream of pure terror. Shadows burst from my chest, sweeping outward, black wings unfurling, feathers snapping, filling the medical bay with crushing despair. The bed lifted as if it were nothing, furniture splintered, glass shattered. My soul-self lunged toward phantom threats, claws raking the air, my mantra slipping from my mind.
Pain and panic twisted together. My body moved against my will, shivering, thrashing. I clawed at my hood as if it could shield me from what I had become, from what I had nearly lost myself to.
Then… lava. Glowing, searing lines across my arms, torso, wrists. A force pressed into the chaos, solid and undeniable. Red eyes—three tomoes spinning—met mine, blazing with absolute authority.
"Raven! Stay with us! Focus!" Megan's voice anchored me, faint but insistent.
A searing heat flared across my body. Lava-like marks spread, constraining my magic, forcing me to pause. And then—eyes. Red, three tomoes, piercing. A voice spoke, calm and commanding:
"Be silent."the voice commanded. Not a request. A decree. The storm wavered, my soul-self faltered. My mantra, fragile, trembling, found its rhythm again.
The storm faltered. I clawed at the bed, trembling violently, shivering uncontrollably. Pain and panic twisted through me, but my mantra rose again, fragile but persistent:
"Azarath… Metrion… Zinthos…"
Brick by brick, I rebuilt myself. My body shook, sweat clinging to me, but the inferno began to cool. I pressed my palms to the bed, grounding myself.
Soft voices reached me. Megan, Starfire, Robin. Tentative, cautious.
M'gann's presence lingered, coaxing, steadying. "You're okay… You're still here… Keep breathing. You're not alone." Her voice threaded through the haze, giving me space to claw my way back to reality.
I inhaled sharply, forced my hood back, then muttered again, stronger this time. "Azarath… Metrion… Zinthos…"
I could feel the others around me, hesitant, uncertain. Megan's aura brushed my cheek lightly. "Raven… can you… are you… okay?" she asked.
"I… I think so," I rasped. My hands finally loosened their grip, though they still shook. Every breath carried tremors. I barely understood what had happened, what I had almost given myself over to.
A new presence entered my awareness. Calm, deliberate, and overwhelmingly authoritative.
"I didn't save you because I wanted to. I saved you because I know what happens if Asmodeus gets his hands on the girl in indigo… And trust me—you don't want to see that future. Don't worry about Asmodeus. I'll handle him—alone."
I froze. Questions burned on my tongue, but no words came. Fear, awe, and confusion coiled in my chest, leaving only fragile relief.
Then Jinx, light and teasing, broke through the tension. "Wildcard fixed you. He carried you. And you're still glaring at him like he's the problem. Newsflash—without him, Asmodeus would've chewed you up and left nothing but scraps. Next time you want to play heroes, maybe try surviving five minutes without him. I'll bring popcorn."
Her boots clicked as she followed him. I wanted to understand. I wanted to reach out. But she was gone, leaving only the echo of her words.
The Titans' reactions came in fragments. Robin's fists clenched, jaw tight, a tremor in his hand betraying his fear. Starfire's glow flickered, her hands pressed to her chest, trying to contain her emotions. Beast Boy shifted from foot to foot, humor absent, unease clear. Cyborg flexed his fingers, restless, mechanical exhale heavy. M'gann stayed close, arms folded, silent, watching, worry etched in every line.
I exhaled shakily, whispering the mantra again. My hands gripped the bed, holding me in the present, reminding myself of reality. I was still here. Still Raven. Still standing, even if barely.
"Dreams are powerful," I murmured, voice low, carrying over the quiet remnants of chaos, "but nightmares… don't care whose dream they meet."
The words hung in the air, steadying, fragile, but undeniably mine. The Titans listened, unsure, and I realized that, for a brief moment, we all shared the weight of what had just passed.
End of chapter.
Author's note: Don't forget to add this story to your library and drop a Power Stone to show your support!