Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Teen Titans: Future Storm ❯ Side Story 4: Mind Shadow ( One-Shot )

 

“Teen Titans: Future Storm”

Side Story 4: “Mind Shadow”

Disclaimer: The concept of Teen Titans doesn't belong to me; it belongs to DC Comics and Warner Brothers. Nightstar and Mercury do not belong to me; the former is owned by DC and the latter is owned jointly by DC and Marvel. The concept of the Brain Trust is owned by DC Comics through Batman Beyond. Everyone and everything else, unless it's something you recognize from DC, belongs to me.

Author's note: I could have written this in the context of “Mentality,” but by the time I was ending it, I'd gotten into the whole “return of Slade” thing and I didn't have time to put it in. So I decided to write it in a one-shot follow-up.

Two things will happen in this story. One is that you will finally see, outside of a flashback, just what a dangerous bastard Raziel is when his Memnoch persona is out. Second is that you will find out his true lineage.

And maybe, just maybe, he'll find some romance with Nightstar.

Let's start.

Brain Trust operatives had recovered Ariana's body before any police could find it and ask questions. Granted, they held sway over captains and chiefs and commissioners throughout the country, but they couldn't take any chances.

Suffice it to say, the man known as Azazel was less than pleased. He looked at Ariana's body in the morgue section of his headquarters, his face emotionless but his eyes betraying the whirling of feelings within him.

Anger that he'd lost a valued operative, some sadness mixed with the anger. Possibly grief for a daughter he'd never had.

“Who did this?” he asked calmly.

“When we tracked her, we observed her battle with Raziel Crestmore,” one of the operatives told him. “Someone else interceded in that battle, a male in a black costume with a silver mask over his face. He was the one that killed Ariana.”

Azazel breathed out. “Put her away . . . and retrieve Crestmore. I want to know who killed Ariana.”

“Yes, sir,” the operative replied as he slid Ariana's body back into the morgue wall.

Azazel walked away, finding two of his best operatives: Bombshell and Brick. The former was a dark-haired woman who kept her hair in a somewhat messy bun and dressed in form-fitting black. The latter was a tall, muscular blond man dressed in white clothes.

“You two,” he spoke. “Take a squad. Find Crestmore. Bring him to me. Alive.”

“Yes, sir,” Brick answered.

“Why couldn't you save us, big brother?” Aimee's ghostly voice asked Raziel.

“Why couldn't you save us, son?” Raziel's father's voice asked.

“Why did you let me die?” the voice of the man Raziel had attempted to save when he was still part of the Kokuryu asked.

“You could have stopped him,” the voice of Ariana added.

The voices repeated their condemnations, their words swirling around the young man like a hellish whirlpool that refused to stop.

“I wish I could have,” Raziel murmured. “I wish I could have saved you all.”

“But you didn't,” Ariana spoke. “Weakling!”

An invisible blade struck Raziel, leaving a bloody scratch on his cheek. More blades followed, slashing with impunity, leaving him bleeding all over.

“YOU LEFT US TO DIE!” the voices screamed as blades and bullets attacked him again and again.

Raziel woke up with a gasp, finding his bedclothes and pillow drenched in his sweat.

“Damn it,” he muttered, removing the bedclothes and pillowcases from the mattress and pillows respectively. He dumped them in the chute that transported his dirty laundry to the laundry room and came back with new bedclothes and pillowcases, remaking his bed and climbing into it. Not to his surprise, he found himself unable to return to sleep.

He got up and walked to the main room of Titans Tower, slumping on the couch and turning on the TV. He flipped through channels, finally settling on a mile-a-minute action film. He sighed bitterly and tried to focus on the meager plot of the movie in hopes of numbing himself to the agony of his nightmares.

While trying to watch the film, his senses alerted him to someone in the kitchen. He turned off the TV and went to investigate, finding a dark-haired figure in a black camisole and thong rummaging about in the refrigerator.

“Where is it?” the figure muttered. A few moments later, “There.”

The lingerie-clad figure triumphantly removed a plate with a slice of cheesecake sealed in plastic wrap, undoing the wrapping and turning around to walk to the counter so she could eat her prize in peace.

“Midnight snack, Mar'i?” Raziel asked.

Mar'i turned to Raziel in surprise. “You startled me, Raziel.”

“You should be on your guard then,” Raziel answered with a smirk.

“What's wrong, Raziel?” Mar'i asked.

“I can't sleep,” Raziel replied. “Nightmares.”

“About?” Mar'i inquired.

“Just that I've failed everyone I ever cared about,” Raziel responded with bitter loathing in his voice.

“You're not the only one who has to deal with that,” Mar'I said. “I was only seven years old when I lost my mother, yet I couldn't help but feel that if I'd been there, she might have lived. Since I started calling myself Nightstar, I've saved so many people . . . yet I can't save everyone and that haunts me no less than the memories of the people you couldn't save haunt you.”

“How do you deal with it?” Raziel asked. “With the guilt?”

“I try to remember why I'm doing this in the first place,” Mar'i replied. “If I don't remember why I began all this, then it becomes a motiveless obsession.”

“Does that help?” Raziel asked.

“A little,” Mar'i replied, finally beginning to eat the slice of cheesecake.

“Are you going to eat that all by yourself?” Raziel questioned.

“I don't know,” Mar'i answered, cleaning her fork almost sensually with her mouth and tongue before taking another piece and eating it.

Raziel groaned in irritation.

The little minx is teasing me, isn't she? the psychic fighter thought.

What do you propose we do about it? Uriel asked idly.

Your mouth/As sweet as strawberries/Speaks such sensual delights/I would die/Just for a taste/Of your lips, Gabrielle recited from her self-written book of poems.

As much as I am offended by non-rhyming poems and songs, I can't deny that it's actually good, Gabriel remarked.

Yes, it is a perfect poem, Samael added, befitting our sweet leader, don't you think?

Gabrielle blushed. Thank you, Lightbringer.

I'd make a song out of it and record it, just so I can use it as mood music for when we make Mar'i ours, Samael remarked.

Who needs mood music? Memnoch asked. Just throw her down on the kitchen counter and -

Samael cut him off with a raised hand. You are such a brute, Memnoch. This is why Raziel doesn't allow you to come out very often.

He's just a damn wimp, Memnoch sneered.

Raziel took a fork and used it to get a piece of cheesecake, smirking grimly at Mar'i as he ate it, his tongue cleaning off the fork. Mar'i glared at him and took another piece of cheesecake, eating it in the same borderline sensual manner as before.

It soon became a competition between them, to see who would crack first. Finally, there was one piece of cheesecake left.

Amethyst locked onto emerald, both sets of eyes staring at each other in challenge. It almost resembled the scenes in cowboy movies in which the opponents stared each other down to see who would draw their gun first. Both tensed up, their limbs coiling in anticipation of the ensuing duel.

Raziel made his move first. However, Mar'i's reflexes were just a fraction of a second quicker than his own and she took the last piece of cheesecake, devouring it in sensuous triumph.

The former Kokuryu assassin closed his eyes . . . and the Lightbringer opened them again, an alluring smirk spreading over his features.

Mar'i looked at the Lightbringer and felt herself helplessly drawn to him. He advanced upon her, the half-Tamaranean girl rooted to the spot by the searing desire pumping through her veins. He stroked her face gently, feeling the smoothness and warmth of her golden skin before kissing her firmly on the lips. Mar'i kissed him back, moaning low in her throat from the passion she felt.

What are you doing? Raziel asked.

What you have spent all this time too afraid to do, Samael replied simply. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a girl to lure into my bed.

The seducer persona continued kissing Mar'i, his lips caressing hers as she sucked on his lower lip. Considering that Tamaraneans could survive in the vacuum of space, it wasn't as though Mar'i really needed to breathe. Unfortunately, the Lightbringer acknowledged to himself, he did, being human and all.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her to catch his breath.

“That . . . was incredible,” Mar'i spoke.

“Yes,” Samael agreed, finding himself meaning it as he gazed intently at Mar'i's kiss-swollen mouth. “Shall we continue this elsewhere?”

“Aw, what a romantic moment,” a voice spoke, the timbre low, feminine, and dangerous.

Raziel retook control and walked into the main room with Nightstar, only to confront about twenty armored soldiers led by a dark-haired woman in black and a muscular blond man in white.

“Didn't I kill you, Bombshell?” Raziel asked.

“So you thought,” Bombshell replied with a deadly smirk. “You have two choices, Mr. Crestmore. One, you come with us peacefully and your fellow Titans, particularly the girl next to you, go unmolested. Two, you refuse and we take you by force, leaving your friends incapacitated in the process. What will it be?”

“I have only this to say to the Trust,” Raziel declared, raising his middle finger.

“Be that way,” Brick sneered before Bombshell snapped her fingers, creating purple explosions that knocked Raziel and Nightstar into a wall . . . and nearly through it.

The two Titans pulled themselves off the wall and attacked Bombshell and Brick, Nightstar with her energy whip and Raziel with his psychic blades. Bombshell retaliated with more purple detonations, although Nightstar and Raziel dodged them.

“I'll deal with these two,” Brick spoke and moved with a swiftness one would not anticipate in someone so muscular. He delivered a brutal uppercut to Raziel's abdomen that pushed his ribcage inward, knocking the breath - and some blood - out of him. A fast roundhouse kick cruelly jostled Nightstar's insides. Both Titans crumpled to the floor, only to get up again.

“You two must be gluttons for punishment,” Bombshell remarked as she detonated again, the purple explosions battering both Titans.

“I'm getting tired of this,” Nightstar growled and swung her energy whip at Bombshell, only for it to be caught by Brick, who used it to pull her toward him. He threw Nightstar around using her whip, only for her to right herself in midair and shoot him with an optic beam. Unfortunately, the beam did virtually no damage whatsoever.

Raziel attacked Brick with his psychic blades, managing to cut his face. Unfortunately, the wound healed so rapidly that it was almost as though it was never there in the first place.

The former Kokuryu assassin gasped in horror as he realized what he was dealing with.

“You're a constant regenerator, aren't you?” he deduced.

“A constant regenerator?” Nightstar wondered.

“What if Superman weren't really impervious to harm, but healed so fast from virtually any injury possible that he might as well be impervious?” Raziel asked. “If that were the case, you'd get this guy here.”

“Clever boy,” Brick remarked with a chuckle. “I once survived a suicide bombing. You might want to try harder if you wish to hurt me at all.”

“I'll show you harder,” Raziel snarled as he picked up a sofa cushion and propelled it at Brick at the speed of a bullet, only for Brick to bat it aside. This proved to be a distraction for Nightstar, who looked Brick dead in the eye before firing an optic blast that shredded the regenerator's eyeballs.

Brick roared, but it was more out of annoyance than actual pain.

Bombshell attacked Raziel and Nightstar with more and more detonations, which the twosome dodged with ease. Nightstar weaved her purple energy into a lariat and swung it at Bombshell, ensnaring the older woman.

“Get the hell out of my house,” she snarled.

“Not without Crestmore,” Bombshell retorted.

Suddenly, Nightstar became aware of a blur of white charging toward her. She tensed, ready to defend herself against Brick, only for Raziel to make a brave but futile attempt at stopping his charge. Brick simply threw Raziel aside and continued rushing at Nightstar, who could see the rage in his regenerated eyes. Nightstar lashed at Brick with her whip, but the lashes didn't even slow him down, forcing her to resort to a physical attack. Fists and feet landed on vulnerable spots in the human anatomy, spots that would instantly bring down any other opponent with the strength and force with which they were being attacked.

Unfortunately, Brick wasn't any other opponent. His constant regeneration rendered him immune to her attacks. He caught her by the throat and squeezed.

“You're a very pretty girl,” he remarked. “It won't take much work to make your corpse look good.”

“Speaking of corpses,” a voice spoke with smooth deadliness, “yours won't look that bad, either.”

Brick's eyes widened as he felt a blade puncture his back and reach his heart. His grip on Nightstar's throat loosened, allowing her to extricate herself as he fell, revealing Samael the Lightbringer standing behind him with blood-covered fingers.

“Are you all right?” he asked Nightstar.

“Yeah,” Nightstar replied.

Bombshell glared at the Lightbringer and Nightstar, generating more explosive purple waves. The Lightbringer cut through them, the blade moving in a serpentine path toward Bombshell's throat. Unfortunately, the psychic blade was canceled out by the armor of a soldier that stepped in front of her. Almost immediately afterward, Brick rose to his feet and struck Samael in the jaw, dislocating it. The Lightbringer simply reset his jaw and let it heal; stabbing Brick in the throat with his psychic blade and slashing while the blade was inside. The wound merely sealed itself.

The soldiers finally made their move, swarming Nightstar and Samael, the latter attempting to slice through their armor with his blades. To his shock, the blades didn't penetrate the armor at all.

“We designed the armor to be highly resistant to psychic powers,” Bombshell stated, having freed herself from Nightstar's energy lariat. “And since all your powers are based on your psychic aura, you don't stand a chance.”

A purple whip sliced through a soldier's armor. “Fortunately, my powers aren't psychic.”

Mercury stumbled down the stairs in a sleepy stupor. “Whose idea was it to throw a party in the middle of the night without waking me up?”

“Go back to sleep, boy, and you'll live,” Bombshell spoke.

This snapped Mercury into total wakefulness and his amber eyes narrowed. He flew into a superhumanly swift kick that knocked Bombshell for a loop. The Brain Trust assassin retaliated with several amethyst detonations, only for Mercury to contemptuously sidestep each and every one. Five of the soldiers that had been fighting Nightstar and Raziel turned their attentions toward the tousled-haired speedster.

Mercury wound up assaulted from multiple angles by laser fire, which he could barely dodge. The soldiers kept shooting, which the young speedster knew would result in plenty of property damage.

There goes our TV, he thought before immediately refocusing on staying alive. Ok, screw defense!

He began moving in a serpentine pattern, increasing his speed to the point where he was, for all intents and purposes, invisible. Once he had that advantage, he began attacking the soldiers. Elbow strikes and kicks delivered at approximately 200 mph brought all five down for the count.

Before he had the chance to survey his victory, a pair of large, muscular arms grabbed him from behind. Mercury looked up and stared into the ice-cold eyes of Brick. He shook at super-speed, attempting to generate enough friction to burn the regenerator's arms to the point where he'd be forced to let go. Unfortunately, Brick's constantly regenerating cells healed the damage as soon as it emerged.

“Mercury!” a voice shouted and the platinum-haired speedster ducked as a pair of claws slashed Brick's face. Brick didn't react at all, the wounds having no time to bleed before they closed. “What the hell are you?”

Mercury vibrated his molecules so quickly that he was rendered intangible, thus enabling him to pass through Brick's arms. He landed on the ground and joined his rescuer. “What took you so long, Beast Cutie?”

Beast Girl didn't bother sighing at the nickname. One, there wasn't time. Two, it was cute, in a cheesy kind of way. “I was waiting for you to see what was wrong. You didn't come back.”

“Did you tell -?” Mercury started to ask, only to get his answer in the form of fireballs, energy knives, and umbrakinetic blasts striking Brick, the armored soldiers, and Bombshell. The long-range attacks did do some damage to everyone except Brick, as the knives and fireballs harmlessly dissipated when they made contact with him. The umbrakinetic blasts, on the other hand, did no damage to anyone except Bombshell.

Bladefire, Inferno, and Samara came down, all in their nightclothes just like their fellow Titans.

“You're disturbing our sleep,” Bladefire growled as he generated an energy sword. “Leave.”

“I don't think anyone's asked this question yet, but how did you get in here?” Inferno asked.

“My and my partner's clothes, as well as our soldiers' armors, were made with special circuitry that renders us invisible to security systems and surveillance technology,” Bombshell replied.

“Oh,” Mercury said.

The remaining soldiers fought like demons, their armor cushioning whatever blows landed on them.

“Well, we know these guys aren't just throwaway foot soldiers,” Samara remarked after taking several well-placed strikes from a particular soldier.

“Yeah, who trained these guys, the Society of Assassins?” Mercury asked, as he pummeled Brick at super-speed. Unfortunately for him, Brick's injuries healed so quickly that the speedster might as well have not done any damage at all. “Damn it! What does it take to stop you?”

“More than what you've got,” Brick answered with a smirk before catching Mercury's fists mid-punch and throwing him aside like a rag doll.

Nightstar and Bombshell battled, the Brain Trust assassin detonating again and again as the Titan leader swerved to avoid the purple explosions. Nightstar shaped her purple energy into another lariat and swung it at Bombshell, who sidestepped it.

“You tried that once before, Nightstar,” she taunted. “Try something else.”

“Gladly,” Nightstar replied harshly before striking Bombshell with an optic blast that slammed the older woman into a wall and knocked her unconscious. She turned her attentions to the Brain Trust soldiers, shaping her violet power into razor wire that she used to slice through their armors, damaging the circuitry to the point that the suits became useless.

The seven Titans turned their attentions upon Brick, fighting him with all that they had. Bladefire attacked with a sword technique that enabled him to strike all the weak points of Brick's body simultaneously. Unfortunately, Brick didn't really have weak points due to his constant regeneration and if he did, it wouldn't make much of a difference since he healed from everything.

“Crap,” Beast Girl remarked. “We're dealing with frigging Superman here.”

“That brightly colored fool has nothing on me,” Brick sneered.

“How is he doing this?” Mercury asked. “With the speed I was fighting him at, he should have gone down! Why isn't he going down?”

“Believe it or not, his power is partly mentally based,” Raziel replied. “It's a perfect synch of body and mind. His body constantly regenerates, so he can easily recover from virtually all injuries. His brain has shut off his pain receptors, so he will not be slowed down for even an instant by an adverse physical reaction to any wounds he may sustain. It has also made him stronger and faster than the average human, not to mention that he'll never get tired.”

“You'd be very correct in your estimation of me,” Brick stated. “So, Titans, how does it feel to face someone who can take anything and everything you throw at him and come back for more?”

Samara telekinetically lifted the shards from the broken windows and hurled them all at Brick, the shards flying with enough force to impale any other person. Unfortunately, they simply bounced off Brick.

The muscular man sighed. “I'm getting bored.”

Inferno created a giant fireball and threw it at Brick, who merely allowed himself to be engulfed by the flames. When they dissipated, the Brain Trust assassin stood unharmed, except for the rags of his shirt and his tattered pants.

“Crestmore, why do you persist in letting your friends make fools of themselves?” Brick asked. “We can keep doing this as long as you like, but you'll get tired sooner than I will. That'll make you slow, weak . . . and then I'll be able to kill you easily.” He smirked at Raziel. “But I can spare your friends. All you have to do is come with me.”

Raziel sighed.

There is no other way, Uriel stated. Brick's regenerative abilities render him almost completely impervious to anything any of you could do to him. If you go with him, you'll be sparing your fellow Titans the agony of death and you'll be able to find some answers, such as who was that man that called us “son.”

You're right, Raziel admitted. Out loud, “Fine. I'll come with you, but you leave the other Titans alone.”

“Raziel, what are you thinking?” Bladefire asked. “You don't know what they'll do to you.”

“It's the logical thing to do,” Raziel answered. “With his abilities, we would gain nothing from fighting him. This way, you're safe. Besides, he won't harm me. His master ordered him to bring me to him alive.”

“Did he remember to add `unharmed'?” Beast Girl asked sarcastically.

“I'll be fine,” Raziel replied.

The trip to the Brain Trust's headquarters was made in silence. Brick and Bombshell sat next to each other in the black battle van, the former driving and the latter in the passenger seat. The soldiers sat in the midsection of the van on two rows of seats facing each other. Raziel was confined in the back, wearing psi-dampener cuffs and headset.

Once they arrived, Brick and Bombshell walked Raziel into what looked like a dojo. A silver-haired man dressed in loose white clothing stood with his back to them.

“Here he is,” Bombshell spoke.

“Thank you for bringing him to me,” Azazel said. “Now release him and leave us be.”

“Why?” Brick asked.

“I have my reasons,” Azazel replied. “Now do as I say.”

Bombshell released Raziel from the cuffs and the headset before departing with Brick.

“What do you want with me?” Raziel asked.

“Who killed Ariana?” Azazel asked, turning to face the younger man.

“Wyndragyn,” Raziel replied. “He was an assassin working for the Kokuryu yakuza syndicate. He's dead now and the Kokuryu's leadership has been decimated.”

“Good work, son,” Azazel spoke with a smirk.

“It wasn't me who did it,” Raziel admitted.

“That doesn't matter,” Azazel said. “What matters is that a prized operative of mine didn't go out in vain. Now it is time for us to talk, my son.”

“Why do you call me that?” Raziel inquired.

“Because you are my son,” Azazel answered. “Your mother Marian had psychic talents all her life, which was why I was so fascinated with her. She could have been the most powerful female psychic of all, but she placed such a strong block on her powers that she even forgot they existed. Still, I knew a child of hers would inherit her psychic potential. I came to a conclusion that if the child was born of two powerful psychics, then he or she might very well be a god among insects.

“I decided that the other psychic would be me. So on Marian's wedding night I took her husband's place and used an illusion to fool her into believing that I was him. I impregnated her that night . . . and waited for you to be born. After that, it was a matter of waiting for your powers to manifest and it was at that time that I decided to claim you.

“I've watched you for all these years, my son. You've advanced a great deal, but there is still so far you can go. You won't be able to find that kind of advancement with those foolish children who call themselves Titans. Stay with me and I will teach you all you need to know to inherit my empire.”

“It's an empire of dirt,” Raziel sneered. “Your Brain Trust is nothing but a gang of murderers.”

“We are much greater than a simple gang,” Azazel retorted. “We've toppled governments. We own governments. We own leaders of industry worldwide. We are the true captains of this planet's destiny. It is our turn to rise and take our places as such.”

“I won't let you continue,” Raziel declared, shifting into a battle stance.

“If you're so determined to defeat me, then you have your chance,” Azazel spoke. “Right now. Strike me down if you can.” He extended his right arm and a psychic sword materialized in his hand.

Raziel sheathed his index and middle fingers in sharpened psychic energy. He lunged at Azazel and slashed with his psychic blade, only to be blocked by Azazel's sword. The older psychic slashed at Raziel, who ducked under the swing and threw his leg out in a sweeping kick that would have knocked Azazel's legs out from under him if he hadn't jumped. Azazel performed a somersault in midair and came down with a brutal kick that nearly broke Raziel's neck. The former Kokuryu assassin cracked his neck back into its proper position and let his aura's healing powers do their work.

To Raziel's surprise, he was suddenly flying into a wall, propelled by some invisible force. He rose to his feet, glaring at Azazel.

“Surprised, Raziel?” Azazel asked. “That was a taste of my power, of the power you could have someday . . . with my aid, of course.”

“I'd never accept any aid from you,” Raziel snarled, lunging at Azazel in an attempt to tackle him. Azazel, however, saw it coming and trapped Raziel in a lock, preventing him from lashing out at him. Raziel grabbed Azazel's arm and injected as much of his aura as he could into it. As Azazel's arm was too large an object for Raziel to transform into a bullet, the influx of locomotive force did the second-best thing . . . it burst Azazel's arm, leaving a bloody stump where the arm used to be.

Azazel smiled proudly at Raziel despite his wound. “I'm impressed, son. You actually hurt me.” The smile turned deadly, just before he slashed Raziel with his psychic sword. Once the sword made contact, Raziel cried out in pain as his mind was assaulted along with his body. Every painful memory he had reemerged, clear as crystal and amplified a hundredfold to cause the most damage.

The dead bodies of his family.

The abuse from the Millers.

The family he failed to save from Wyndragyn.

The death of Ariana, who might have been his first love.

Once the painful psychic collage had finished, Raziel lay in a crumpled heap.

“You sad, sad boy,” Azazel remarked. “So much potential, but so wasted.”

To the Brain Trust leader's surprise, he heard a low, dark chuckle coming from the heap that was Raziel. He raised an eyebrow and watched as the young psychic rose to his feet.

“Raziel's” hair hung in his eyes, obscuring them from view, although the dark smirk that covered his face was very much obvious. The boy parted his hair, allowing violet eyes that glimmered dangerously to be seen.

“Father, time to give the Devil his due,” he spoke.

“And who might you be?” Azazel asked.

“Ah, so you're astute enough to know that I'm not exactly Raziel,” the boy remarked. “You may refer to me as one of three names: Samael, Lucifer Morningstar, or the Lightbringer. Any one will do.”

Azazel charged at the Morningstar with his psychic sword, intending to use it to split him in half. To his shock, the Lightbringer sidestepped the blade and struck him with the heel of his palm, sending a charge of locomotive force powerful enough to knock him into one of the walls of his dojo.

“You ought to get that looked at,” Samael remarked. “Considering what you told Raziel earlier, your powers are enough like mine that your aura is probably doing its best to repair that stump that used to be your arm. Better hurry before blood loss sets in.” He turned and began walking out of the dojo. “We'll finish this another time . . . and when you see Raziel again, refer to him as Cipher.”

Morning came to Titans Tower and the Titans were working to repair the damage done to their home. Raziel's return only expedited the process.

“So how did you get back?” Inferno asked.

“Fought my way out,” Raziel replied. “We still have unfinished business, the Brain Trust and I.”

Some hours later, the Tower was back in working order and they'd gotten a new TV to replace the broken one. Mercury and Beast Girl were competing against each other in Tournament of Darkness, while Inferno and Samara were each reading a book and sitting strangely close to each other. Bladefire was in the training room, practicing against a simulation of Slade made from the computer archives' data on his fighting techniques.

Where were Nightstar and Raziel?

They were in Raziel's room, where the former Kokuryu assassin had explained everything to her.

“He's not your real father,” Nightstar said. “He may have contributed half his DNA to make you, but he had no part whatsoever in your upbringing. It's because of the man that raised you that you're the person you are today, not because of Azazel.”

“But how much of him is in me?” Raziel asked somberly. “His powers were basically a stronger form of mine. He even said that I could possess the powers he did someday, but I'm not sure that's all I'd inherit from him.”

“Powers or not, you're not Azazel,” Nightstar answered. “If you were, I wouldn't do this. . . .” She leaned closer to him and kissed him softly on the lips.

End Notes: All right, I can see I've answered all the important questions about Raziel's origins. I might revisit the Brain Trust some time, but that time it'll be a team effort as opposed to Raziel's solo effort.

If you're wondering why I picked “Azazel” as a name for Raziel's father, it was mainly to keep the angel theme going. Azazel, in the Judeo-Christian archives (probably some apocrypha), was a fallen angel. Raziel, as stated by Ariana in the flashback some chapters back, was the angel of mysteries.

Those of you who watched that episode of Batman Beyond featuring the Brain Trust will know who Bombshell is, but you might not know Brick. I'll tell you right now, Brick is the name I gave to the white-garbed “Invulnerable Man” that appeared alongside Bombshell in that episode. I just enhanced his abilities somewhat, as I felt that feeling no pain didn't automatically make someone invulnerable and I wanted to give a somewhat plausible explanation as to how he got that way.

If you think clothing that makes someone invisible to surveillance and security systems is too farfetched, look at the modern Mr. Terrific from the Justice Society; his clothes have the same function.

I have a few more one-shots to do and then it'll be time for Arc 3 of this story. For those of you who wanted more Mercury, you'll get it . . . and then some.

That's enough out of me. Time to let me know what you think.