Robin's POV
My eyes went wide.
He did it again…
That sudden flash of speed, that ridiculous spike in power. Even Superboy hadn't hit that hard.
It brought back memories of watching the Arena fights the nights before I went after him all those months ago.
Julius fell to his knees, breath heaving, eyes lit with a pure, terrifying euphoria. He looked like one of those junkies from the Narrows—medicated and out of his mind—but I had a gut feeling that whatever weakness he was feeling was only temporary.
At least, I hoped it was. Because we were going to need that kind of power if we wanted to get out of here alive. As frustrating as it was to admit, he was our best shot.
Julius was great under pressure—for a kid who's only been at this for six months.
"Get the door open!" a high voice screeched from behind the warped metal, where Superboy now lay unconscious, blood smeared across his mouth.
"W-what just happened?" Artemis stammered, arrow already nocked.
"He just turned the fight around," I said, still trying to process it. "We might actually have a chance now."
Julius's head snapped toward me, and then he moved. Or more accurately—blurred.
That was all I could see when he and Superboy really started going at it. Blurs of motion broken only by bursts of clarity and deafening eruptions of pure force. It wasn't a fight—it was a storm.
He paused only to glance down at Aqualad and Kid Flash, then looked up at me.
"We don't have much time," he said, his eyes wild. "We need both of them in fighting shape if we're going to get the team out of here. I can heal them. But I need a few things from you."
"How?" Artemis blinked, clearly confused.
So was I. I knew he could heal fast—but not instantly-heal-after-having-your-ribcage-crushed-and-guts-liquefied fast.
"A lot's changed in six months, Artemis."
Yeah. No kidding.
There was a screech and the sound of metal tearing. The hole Julius had made in the door was widening. Superboy was being dragged out, and through that gap, I could see more Genomorphs gathering.
The bigger ones—the species with super strength.
Trolls.
I gritted my teeth.
"You can't seriously be leveraging their lives for—"
"That's exactly what I'm doing," he said flatly.
The screeching got louder. One of the Razor Claw Genomorphs slipped a hand through.
"Out with it," I demanded.
"You guarantee I walk away after this—no arrests, no repercussions. Even if the League insists, you won't scrutinize my methods or question how I do things. Not now, not later."
"I can't promise you won't get arrested," I snapped instantly.
It was a lot to ask.
Negative wasn't just some edgy vigilante anymore. He was linked to the death of Black Mask, a mansion fire, and at least several murders throughout the state of Texas.
"Then I'll vanish," Julius said, locking eyes with Artemis. "I'll leave her behind if I have to."
I swallowed, stunned.
Artemis looked aghast. Then furious.
"Julius…" Artemis's anger seeped into her voice, but he didn't flinch, even as a Razor Claw forced its way further in.
She fired a foam arrow that sealed the hole temporarily, along with the Razor Claw—but we both knew that'd only buy us seconds.
He held out his hand. "You're running out of time."
I looked down at Wally—still bleeding, despite the brace I'd put on—and at Aqualad, who was missing teeth, dipping in and out of consciousness.
This was on me. I led them down here. I suggested the Cadmus mission.
I took his hand.
He gave me a chilling smile as something ethereal settled over me—tightening around my body like invisible chains.
"You're about to enter into a binding vow, enforced by sorcery," he said, voice low and grave. "None may break it—or suffer the consequences. Healing, for the three things I requested. Do you accept?"
There was a new darkness in his eyes. Something I hadn't seen before.
Sorcery?
I thought he was just a Meta.
"What are the consequences?" I asked, even though I didn't want the answer. But I had to ask. I had to know.
Luthor wouldn't let us live with the knowledge of Superboy. No matter how taboo it was to kill heroes—he'd make an exception.
We were stuck. Caught between a rock and a very sharp, very deadly place.
"You die," Julius said simply. "That's what happened to Black Mask. He broke the Binding Vow his sorcerer masters placed on him."
"You can't agree to this!" Artemis shouted.
But Julius was unmoving, even as a Troll ripped the door wider. She grabbed his chest like she was trying to shake some sense into him, but his grip was locked around mine.
I looked into his eyes and swallowed.
"This whole avoiding-arrest thing—it only applies this one time," I said.
He nodded.
And suddenly, I wasn't so sure about his whole story of other sorcerers being responsible for Black Mask's death. The whole deal felt… wrong. Unsettling. Downright devilish, if I'm being honest, but I still spoke the words.
"I accept the terms of the binding vow."
The invisible chains snapped, tight. I felt them coil around my spine like cold wire.
He let out a breath, satisfied. "It is done."
Artemis stumbled back, shocked by our decision, and Julius moved instantly, dropping to his knees and laying his hands on both of them. The change was immediate. Aqualad's nose straightened. His teeth regrew. Wally's leg bones healed with audible snaps and pops.
"You should probably get that," Julius said, absently, eyes never leaving his patients.
The Troll finally got the door open wide enough to fit through, and it was backed by a small pack of Razor Claws.
Oh crud.
Artemis was already firing, and I was right behind her—chucking Batarangs and smoke bombs. Then, I grapple-hooked across the room and threw several foam bomb Batarangs, forming a tight rectangle formation.
They were tied to a remote trigger on my gauntlet.
And I only had one shot to get this right.
"Hey, big guy!" I called out, whistling.
A deep, rumbling growl answered, as the Troll turned to me, shifting through the smoke.
Artemis flipped and twisted through the chaos, firing boxing glove arrows and swatting down claws with impressive precision.
One Razor Claw tried pouncing on Julius.
It didn't come close.
It was struck down with several tranq shots.
The Troll barreled toward me, shaking the ground with each lumbering step.
Sweat dripped down my neck as it closed the distance. It was over ten feet tall, built like a wall, and came at me like a freight train.
I waited.
Three more steps.
Two.
Now.
I hit the switch.
The Batarangs detonated, blooming in clouds of thick, pink adhesive foam that swallowed the Troll from the neck down. It thrashed and roared, panicked and confused.
I felt a weird pang of sympathy for it—before shoving it aside and spinning back toward Julius.
He had just pulled his hands back. The boys were stirring—blinking, rubbing their heads, confused but healed.