The Demon's Revenge (October 28, 2016)

[Fergal Devitt]

"I warned you, Detective, not to go against the League, and yet you did. Now you will watch as the very city you seek so much to protect, burns to the ground. And you'll live the remainder of your existence knowing this could have been prevented had you simply heeded my warnings. I have taken everything from you, piece by piece. Watch Bruce...Watch as you lose everything."

After his words were said, Ra's moved aside letting Bruce watch as Gotham burned to nothing. With nothing more to say he turned away and began making way for helicopter.

10 hours earlier..

The Demon's Head rose from the emerald waters once more feeling rejuvenated, younger, and stronger. The hue of the waters reflected in his eyes as he looked on with determination. His last battle with the Dark Knight and the Arrow proved to be just what he needed them to be; a distraction. Soon all of his plans would come to fruition and he'd at long last have his revenge on the Detective.

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Nocturnal Vigilante

 

[Nocturnal Vigilante]

Present Day...

Where did he go wrong? How did he let things get like this? Before him, the Demon's Head taunted the Dark Knight, each and every word nagging at his brain. He had been bested, defeated, and chained up like an animal as he was forced to watch the scene in front of him. He couldn't lay eyes on the man who came to take over his city and won. Somehow, somewhere along the way Bruce lost it all and as he looked up into the sky to view the bright colors of orange, red, and the ash clouds above, his head fell back down in defeat now more than ever feeling powerless to a foe who finally bested him. He won. could from where he was restrained. The idea of it being true shook him to his core, enough so that he applied all of his strength to the chains that held him tight against his constraints. His teeth gritted against one another, imagining his hands wrapped against Ra's' throat. His thoughts were rampant but all the bat could do was let his head fall solemnly.

10 Hours Earlier...

The sounds of a metal gate shutting with a thud indicated another criminal being locked behind bars within the time being in the GCPD headquarters. No one entirely important as say Scarecrow or Two-Face but a member of the criminal underworld nonetheless. Batman stared at him with bright white eyes, practically peering into the man's soul, though those who knew him would know this was not one of his many talents. Sooner or later Batman shrugged the man aside, stepping away from the cell to traverse the main floor of the GCPD were police men and women worked around the clock to ensure Gotham's safety. Some sat at their desks answering calls, others were standing by the inventory and trophy room, guarding the room behind them. As he walked passed, he'd catch the eye of those who's curiosity just couldn't be helped. The Dark Knight was more or less respected by the officers he moved around and worked with them closely these days. A better situation than before where was limited in involving himself with the proper law enforcement outside of Commissioner James Gordon.

"Batman. We need to talk." Speak of the devil. Gordon peered behind a corner addressing the man before him to follow him into his office.  

[Trainer Noir]

Gordon approached the Dark Knight, a bead of sweat trickling down his brow and under his thick framed glasses. Gordon's expression betrayed no sign of concern, so it was unclear whether or not what he had to say was something that truly worried the Police Commissioner or if it was just legitimately hot in this room.

"This arrived in my office not too long ago. I'd have opened it, but I was pretty sure it was meant for you." Gordon would hand a green envelope over to the Dark Knight. The letter was sealed with purple wax and molded in the shape of a question mark. The mustachioed man tucked his hands into the pockets of his tan full length trench coat before removing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Gordon removed a bud from the pack and brought it to his lips. Lighting the cigarette he inhaled the nicotine filled fumes, allowing it to fill his lungs before blowing it out. "These freaks just can't seem to get enough of you, can they?" Gordon said, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm before he adjusted his spectacles. "Maybe you oughtta give em your address from now on?" Gordon continued with a chuckle, taking another puff from his cigarette. "So. Whats it say?"

Nocturnal Vigilante

 

[Nocturnal Vigilante]

Batman remained silent as he stepped in further, closing the door behind them to make sure they weren't heard. News would travel fast if it were something to truly be worried about and total panic was nothing something they needed right now, not when Gotham was in a state of calm, something the city rarely ever sees. As Gordon stretched his hand to the man to pass on the letter, he took it and eyed it with immense speculation. He turned it over, around, and back again before keeping the side with the question marked facing himself. "Nygma back at his old tricks again, no doubt." In a sense, it was practically the man's calling card. He could only assume that a riddle would be on the inside to send the man on a perilous chase, a race against the clock if you will. Nothing he couldn't handle and if he played along, he'd eventually find himself at Riddler's doorstep, ready to put him behind bars for good.

Upon opening the letter, he read through it thoroughly before giving Gordon a questionable look. As usual, it wasn't something they could set aside. Riddler was dangerous all the same and wasn't meant to be taken lightly.  

[Trainer Noir]

The contents of the letter written in purple ink. The writing was neat and in cursive, it wasn't often that one saw penmanship so proper these days. The letter read:

What 8 letter word can have a letter taken away and it still makes a word. Take another letter away and it still makes a word. Keep on doing that until you have one letter left. What is the word?

What has a head, a tail, is brown, and has no legs?

I'm less than a century, but more than five years. Roosevelt and Hamilton love me. two Lincoln's make me. What am I?

If Batman was observant, it would be clear to him that the answer to each of Nygma's riddles were clues to where, what, or when the Dark Knight needed to be.

Nocturnal Vigilante

 

[Nocturnal Vigilante]

His eyes danced around the paper, the writing clear as day and Riddler's message laid out plain and simple in the form of various riddles. Batman recited the riddles to Gordon as he too was curious as to what was confined within the letter. He laid it flat out on the Commissioner's desk, studying the material before him. More mind games. A test of Nygma's intellectual prowess where he felt the need to challenge Batman's while involving innocents in the crossfire. With no other way around it, Batman often found himself playing The Riddler's game in order to uncover exactly what was going on.

"What are you up to now, Riddler?" His fingers followed the words carefully before reading it back to himself once more.

What 8 letter word can have a letter taken away and it still makes a word. Take another letter away and it still makes a word. Keep on doing that until you have one letter left. What is the word?

"Starting, but starting what?" He said questionably, moving onto the next riddle. He spoke to no one in particular, merely digging deep into his analytical mind to understand what was in front of him and assess it correctly.

What has a head, a tail, is brown, and has no legs?

Batman had deduced this one quickly, not deeming it important enough for outward response. The answer was merely a penny. With two words to go on, starting and penny, he wasn't afraid to admit the confusion he was feeling from what he inferred by the riddles. There was more to it, though, at least he assumed. Why make reference to a penny with no context? Most of Riddler's clues often lead to the time and or location to help along the investigation. "The answer to the second riddle is a penny. That's not all." He told Gordon, hoping he would jump to conclusions as to what he might think it'd be. "Riddler's leading me to his location.
One can assume that it's Gotham's First National Bank."

Gordon's sigh of relief was evident and obvious. He was relieved to see the detective answering the riddles in a quick manner, eager to put a stop to whatever the deranged man had in store for Gotham City. "And the third one?"

"Ten." He said in response to Gordon almost immediately after he was asked.

"Ten pennies?" Gordon asked at this point dumb-founded.

"No. Ten as in 10 o'clock. He's given us a time and a place,
and his warning that he's 'starting' his game soon, if he hasn't already." Taking up the paper, Batman tucked it away in a compartment within his utility-belt. "He'll be expecting me at the bank. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting. I'll take it from here." Batman stated plainly to the chief of police before exiting his office and the precinct altogether. Entering his mode of transportation, The Batmobile, he revved it's engine before riding off for the bank in the dead of Gotham night.

Not long after his departure, the Batmobile appeared before the building, coming to an abrupt halt. The top of the Batmobile receded into the back of the vehicle, allowing Batman to climb out and onto the pavement with ease. The bank was a bright pristine white on the outside with a faded texture along the tiles of the buildings. Several pillars from top to bottom sat in front of the large doorway to the bank and before that was an expansive stairway.
"Gordon, I'm making my way into the bank now. No sign of The Riddler yet. I'll let you know when I have more." Batman informed the Commissioner of his progress regularly as of late noting that communication was key. It worked with his own team, why couldn't it work with one of his most trusted allies? All of this took place as Batman ascended the steps and down the path towards the front entrance of the bank.  

[Trainer Noir]

When he approached the entrance, the Dark Knight would soon discover that the front door was unlocked. The Bank was dark, quiet... too quiet and seemingly abandoned. As Batman entered the bank he'd notice nothing particularly out of the ordinary, except for one single individual standing in the center of the bank. His back was turned to the entrance, and he wore a large overcoat with the collar turned up. From what could be observed, the individual's head was slumped over and he was holding something in his hand. The person trembled before slowly turning to face the masked vigilante. The balding middle-aged man's eyes were puffy and red. Tears stained his bloating cheeks as he attempted to hold back his sniveling. In his right hand he held a cellphone. The man would begin to read from it between sobs.

"Good... job... Detective. You solved... my first... puzzle. But.. our game is.. far from over." The man stopped talking for a. The next thing he read was clearly disturbing to him, enough to seemingly knock the air from his lungs as he muttered a terrified, but silent, "O-oh God..." Tucking the cellphone into his coat pocket, he began to unbutton the coat to reveal a bomb vest strapped to his torso. The vest was black, and a red timer beeped slowly and echoed throughout the entire bank. The man then removed the phone from his pocket once more and continued to read. "A-Answer this... problem correctly... a-and this man will leave... ans-swer it wrong a-and... this whole bank.. goes up in smoke.." The man's sobs were practically uncontrollable now, snot running down his nose and his eyes rising briefly from the cellphone screen to give the Vigilante a pleading look. "If you move a s-single muscle, tr-try to communicate with this g-gentleman at all, or fail to a-answer the r-riddle before the time runs out... this whole block is t-taking a o-one way trip to H-Hades ..."

Upon the bomb vest a timer appeared, the red numbers reading the as 5:00

"R-Riddle me this B-Batman... I'm always m-moving, but I n-never move. You can replic-cate me but never rep-peat me. Everything becomes a part-t of me. Wh-what am I?... tick-tock D-detective"

4:59, 4:58, 4:57, 4:56, 4:55...  

[Nocturnal Vigilante]

The locked door was an easier obstacle to overcome, one of the only ones he'd find himself traversing through easily where the Riddler was involved. Upon entering the bank, Batman tapped at the side of his cowl, activating a grid like H.U.D. that scaled the entire interior of the bank. Nothing out of the ordinary unless you counted for several dozens of explosive signatures being picked up by his device. Underneath the bank and as far as the eye could see down the block. Criminals often had silly motives and mannerisms of doing things but never were they to be taken lightly. The bat shook his head at the thought of such a travesty, several unsuspecting innocents losing their lives in a sudden flash of light. They had nothing to worry about, though. He wouldn't let that happen.

Stepping in further, a figure standing directly in the middle of the bank was now all the more clearer, hidden beneath a trench coat with his head sunken in a solemn matter. Couldn't have been Nygma, a hostage maybe or a pawn sure but the build was much to big for the usual lengthy appearance. The man knew Batman was there leaving the Dark Knight to wait for him to turn around. His weary and tear filled eyes stared back at his bright whites in fear. He doubted that he feared the man dressed as a bat but instead what the Riddler had in store for him. Batman's eyes trailed down to the device in his hand, nodding to it to prompt the man to begin whatever this all was.

"A-Answer this... problem correctly... a-and this man will leave... ans-swer it wrong a-and... this whole bank.. goes up in smoke.."

"If you move a s-single muscle, tr-try to communicate with this g-gentleman at all, or fail to a-answer the r-riddle before the time runs out... this whole block is t-taking a o-one way trip to H-Hades ..."

"R-Riddle me this B-Batman... I'm always m-moving, but I n-never move. You can replic-cate me but never rep-peat me. Everything becomes a part-t of me. Wh-what am I?... tick-tock D-detective."

In a perfect world, Batman would have used one of his many devices to rid the man of the vest that could easily take his life, Batman's, and several others on this block. The thing about Riddler was that anyone who opposed him was forced into these games. These games that meant life or death for a number of people if they weren't played right. Batman said nothing to the man but he hoped that he had faith that everything was going to be okay, otherwise this was going to get messy. His body remained still, free of conflict but the same could not be said for his mind. He thought long and hard about the riddle, knowing even the slightest slip up would be exactly what he Nygma wanted. So overjoyed by the fact that he had finally bested the Batman, he might just actually blow it.

"The answer is History, Nygma. Now let him go." He demanded from the villain. He had his answer, and if the Riddler wasn't here, he assumed he'd be onto yet another location within the city. With so many historical landmarks, he would surely have to pick and choose between the environment Riddler decided to use for his next big test. The clocktower, the bell, the museum. If the next situation was anything like this, he would be headed for the museum, hopefully to be greeted by the Riddler himself. The sooner he was back behind bars the better before he really got a chance to hurt someone.  

[Son Of the Bat]

Damian Wayne

Son of the Bat, the current (better than Drake) Robin

Meanwhile on the other side of Gotham, Damian sat perched on a gargoyle overlooking several buildings. His eyes carefully inspected each one until something stood out. See, as of recent Mother had gotten back in contact with him. It was most surprising to him considering how they left things before. She was adamant that he'd betrayed her by choosing Father over her. And deep down...what she had said was true. Working with Father changed Damian. He became calmer and less violent opposed to who he used to be. He liked who he was now. And he was happy. The first sign of contact he received was during a run in with Pyg. It was subtle, but it had to be, to ensure Batman wouldn't find out. The letter was from Grandfather inviting him to wipe the slate clean and come home back to the League, back to Nanda Parbat.

And although he was mature for his age, Damian was still a child, who longed for his Mother's love and a family. When these thoughts came swimming into his mind though he buried them as they were weakness. Robin launched himself off the roof, flipping into a neat somersault before landing solidly on his feet. He could hear someone behind him. They were too loud to be League and too sloppy to be Father or Grayson. "Your presence is not required here," he said as he stood up, slowly raising his head to turn and look Bluebird in the eye. "I am handling this investigation. As I said earlier, if you're smart, and I am sure you must be, you will leave."

And then, suddenly, there was movement all around them. The shadows, it seemed, began moving- just exactly how many men did Mother need to bring?- and they were all heading for him. He hated himself, for just a moment for believing his Mother wanted to actually reconcile, for putting not only himself in danger but Bluebird too. Why did she have to follow him dammit? Robin grabbed his grappling hook, and started going up toward another roof. "Bluebird, get out of here! This fight is mine." he yelled down to her. He hoped that she would, but something told him she wouldn't listen to him. The ninjas followed him, and he knew that either Grandfather or Mother had put out an order for him. Fine. Fine. But he wasn't going back to her without a fight for his life.

 

[Trainer Noir]

Elsewhere, on the other side of Gotham...

The Riddler sat in a leather computer chair, one purple panted leg crossed over the other. He held a golden question mark shaped cane within both of his purple gloved hands. In front of him were nearly a dozen computer monitors, each one with images of a different location of Gotham streaming for the Mastermind to observe. It was one of the monitor's to the left, however, that had Edward's attention. Nygma's lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he watched Batman squirm. It was... cathartic to say the least. However, Nygma severely hoped this wouldn't be the Detective's final performance. It would be disappointing considering this wasn't even a flex of The Riddler's intellectual superiority, and with how many times Nygma had fallen to the Detective via the solving of far more complex puzzles would have made this victory extremely anti-climatic.

When Batman finally said the answer Nygma found himself allowing a sigh of relief to pass through his lips. The Dark Knight had, as always, come through at the last moment. Nygma then reached for the phone on the desk in front of him and started dialing...

Gotham's First National Bank

0:05, 0:04, 0:03, 0:02, 0:01

At the last moment the timer stopped and the man collapsed to his knees, trembling as he tried to regain his composure. Panting and sobbing, the cellphone in his hand began to ring. He stared up at Batman fearfully, before answering the phone and bringing it to his ear. "H-Hello?..." He listened to whoever it was on the other line before handing it over to Batman. "It's for you..."

"Well played Batman, well played!" The voice on the other line said enthusiastically. "I must admit, I was beginning to grow anxious that our little game was going to come to a grievously premature end. But, as always, you've not disappointed! hahaha... Now, I'm sure you've already deduced the location of your next task. However, in case you haven't, I'll provide this one hint. The answer lies within your answer. Good luck Detective, hope to see you soon!" With that, the other line went dead.  

[Cerulean Vigilante]

Bluebird
-------

"Your presence is not required here. I am handling this investigation. As i said earlier, if you're smart, and i am sure you must be, you will leave." s**t. She was spotted. Oh well now, right? Just as she emerged from the shadows, the dark blue/black silhouette became her own body figure; the blue and black accompanied with silver to finish off the armor accents that Batman helped with. Not to mention, she'd be the second wearing blue.

"Bluebird, get out of here! This fight is mine." Really? Damian knew by now that she was going to defy his orders. She didn't like being told what to do. That was her thing. Living in torment at the hands of her abusive father and fending for herself as well as her brother. Of course she wouldn't listen. The assassins soon made their own reveal. Good going, Harper. You try to help a kid, and you end up in the middle of his mommy issues. Whoops."Too late now, Robin. We're all in this together right?"

Harper quickly made her stride, jumping from obstacle to obstacle, she managed to keep up to his speed. It helped enough being fit and all, especially at her constant weight and height. Then her gadgets; a few quirks she added to her suit which made a huge difference. The upgrades herself on the armor increased her agility, balance, and speed for the most part. She could keep up with the younger one, but she didn't know for how long.

.

 

[Son Of the Bat]

Damian Wayne

Son of the Bat, the current (better than Drake) Robin

Of course this insolent, brash woman would choose to follow him instead of staying put like he commanded her to. Of course she wouldn't just let him handle family business alone, as it's supposed to be handled. Robin could hear her following him same for the ninjas. Idiot. Stupid little teenager. She hadn't an idea what she was getting herself involved in by interfering with League business. They would kill her without a moment's thought had she gotten in their way and Robin knew this. Part of him wished that the League of Shadows would tear her apart and it would teach her, finally, not to stick her nose where it doesn't belong. But, he had to admit, she was brave; not a good fighter, but she definitely had brains and speed on her side. She caught up to the fight quickly, talking all the while. He resisted every urge to stop his fight and tell her off for coming, instead opting to roll his eyes as he dodged a incoming blow, spun downward, knocking the legs out from under the ninja as they went tumbling down the side of the building. He wasn't worried about them falling to their death.

The League were trained to be prepared for anything and everything. "I don't need your help, anyway," he snarled, using his elbow to smash the nose of one ninja while another tried to grab him from behind. Another came to the front of him and Robin used his chest as a wall. Running up it so that he could maneuver a back flip, then leap up to a plant a precise elbow to the back of the assassin's head. He recovered quickly standing as the now angered assassins charged his way. He was prepared for them dodging each as they swung at him.

There were more of them closing in, and he noticed with disappointment that these ninja were not going in for the kill. And if they weren't, then he couldn't even convince himself to do so, which his father would recommend but Mother would detest. He dodged again, backing up to the edge of the roof and then sidestepping, cracking the arm of the man who went after him. The man made no sound of pain, no admittance that Robin had landed a blow. He just disappeared once he was released. Robin glanced up, looking over towards where Bluebird was. Well, at least they weren't going in for the kill with him; he couldn't say the same for Bluebird as he kept an eye on the girl whist fighting.

"I'm telling you, get out of here! I can handle this on my own, you're not helping," he growled at her in annoyance. "These are ninja from the League of Assassins." Damian hoped that would have some kind of impact on her, but he guessed that she would have no idea what the League was. She was probably just as ignorant as she was bad-mouthed. "They're here for me, not for you, so leave. Get your kicks elsewhere."

 

[Nocturnal Vigilante]

Once offered, he took the phone immediately before placing it close to is ear.

"Well played Batman, well played! I must admit, I was beginning to grow anxious that our little game was going to come to a grievously premature end. But, as always, you've not disappointed! hahaha... Now, I'm sure you've already deduced the location of your next task. However, in case you haven't, I'll provide this one hint. The answer lies within your answer. Good luck Detective, hope to see you soon!"

"Enough of this, Riddler. No one else needs to be involved in this." Said Batman,barking his words through the phone but he was too late as the villain on the run hung up on the other end, leaving Batman back to chasing down clues and leads, riddle by riddle. First things first, he made his way over to the man, clearly traumatized by the events that transpired. To have been subjected to such a toxic situation was truly tasking on one's mental health, clearly as he could barely contain himself. Batman watched on for a moment as he wept onto the marble floor. "The G.C.P.D. will arrive soon to get you. Stay put and stay out of sight." It was too soon to tell if Riddler enlisted the help from Gotham's low life criminals. He preferred to keep it where the man remained safe.

"Gordon, Riddler had a hostage kept away at the bank.
I've made sure that he's safe but he requires a pick-up and escort." With the GCPD alerted, Batman departed from the bank in The Batmobile and off to the next destination. Of all of his many options, Batman settled upon the museum where there was plenty of history to go around. At this time, a little after ten, it was convenient for the Dark Knight himself to be out like this. The streets weren't one hundred percent clear but it made it easier to traverse the city. He came to a halt in front of the museum, shooting out and into the air almost as quick as he stopped before landing a ew feet away from the doorway. What challenges did Nygma have in store for him this time, he wondered.  

[Cerulean Vigilante]

Bluebird
-------

I don't need your help anyway, blah blah blah. Ninjas from the League of Assassins, yada yada. I can handle this on my own...Get your kicks elsewhere." This is what she made out from the amount of kicks, punches, and hand full of hits her face as well as body took. The reactions on the assassins trying to get her sprawled on the floor like a dying animal were practically lifeless. A swift kick to two of their jaws and they proceeded to attack. It seemed this would carry on for a while. Good ******** job, Harper, great job.

Handle this on his own? He was only a child. Not that she was underestimating him, but she also had a younger brother who said the same thing. If it wasn't for her, he'd probably be six feet under all thanks to all of the bad problems that accompanied his mere existence.

"They can be demons from hell for all I care; We are returning, whether I get numerous broken bones, lose an arm, or whatever. I'm not leaving you alone." She was growing tired of these bone heads coming at her for no reason, but following one of her partners? Sure, she felt protective, over Damian probably and she could have left, but the whole no one left behind thing really crossed paths with her conscience.

Time to take out the big guns, or better yet, shocking? Sliding her legs at different intervals, she knocked over the oncoming assassins giving her enough time to load her gun with pellets. These pellets were one of her many creations; they would shoot out net-like fabrics intertwined with nanoelectronic particles which would be activated once in contact once shot out. Enough with the boring details though, onto the action. The pellets were shot out over a large group of the oncoming, ore more oncoming assassins and within two seconds, a fuzzy buzzing sound was heard, then a frying sound and lastly a beeping noise. You could say the tech had malfunctioned, but it was really intentional. They caused a small explosion within the mass group of assassins, causing a jolt back of their large numbers. She wasn't sure if it was their screams or the sound below, but she knew she was causing the pain. If they wanted to capture Damian, they'd of course have to try to step past her.

And just as she was proudful of what had just occurred, it was quickly diminished by two to four of the ninjas hurtling towards her. Two accomplished to get her on a knee and the feeling of warm liquid began oozing from the corner of her mouth. "I spoke too soon, hah-hah." Wiping the blood away from her mouth, she stepped back up, kicking one of them with her armored shoes directly at their jaw--they walked back in shock and tumbled off the building top.

.

Son of the Bat

 

[Son Of the Bat]

Damian Wayne

Son of the Bat, the current (better than Drake) Robin

"Color me impressed." Robin said with a small smirk. Bluebird was managing to hold her own against several of his grandfather's best men. They had to be otherwise he wouldn't have wasted his time in sending them. Grandfather knew Damian's prowess rivaled even his Mother's at one point, so if he was to make a move, then he'd need to be sure of his assassins' ability that they could get the job done. Robin put up an arm to block an oncoming kick when out the corner of his domino, he' noticed Bluebird starting to be overwhelmed. This only caused him to increase his aggression in dealing with these ninjas striking them down, aiming to break more bones than before.

In a matter of seconds, an entire swarm descended upon them. Damian felt the comm get pulled out of his ear, and watched as it got crushed. "وبقدر ما أنا أستمتع رؤية القتال الخاص بك، والشباب واحد، كنت الأم هدية لنا أوامر. ونحن تعبنا من العبث مع صديق الخاص بك قليلا هناك. كنت قادما معنا." He bristled, recognizing the voice of one of his mother's best. This man definitely had not been in the fight earlier, which means that he had probably been with Mother. Wherever she was, she must feel decently secure with her position to let him out. Or, she was tired of waiting. Mother didn't need protection, Damian knew, and so he figured that she was just tired of remaining in Gotham. She never did like it here. "I refuse." Damian declared. Jumping up to strike the man he watched as he effortlessly dodged him causing Damian's temper to swell more.

"Tell Mother, she and Grandfather can rot in Nanda Parbat for all I care. I'm not going back. And it doesn't matter how many of you there are, I'll mow you down until sunrise if I have to." There were only about 20 of them, and he could take them. He charged from his position, moving almost silently and faster than he had in a long time to try and surprise the other fighter. They had both been trained by the same people, and even though Damian had been training for a shorter amount of time, it was drilled into him. He was to be superior to these people.


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Cerulean Vigilante