20 advance chapters on [email protected]/Saintbarbido.
-0-
Raven and Mark sat cross-legged in the dim quiet of his room, the air heavy with the remnants of whatever strange energy had surged between them earlier. Both were still catching their breath when Raven finally voiced the question she had clearly been holding back.
"How do you plan on joining us?" Her tone was calm, but her eyes were sharp, searching for his reaction.
Mark tilted his head slightly. "Us?"
"The Teen Titans."
He hesitated. Raven's gaze didn't waver, her cloak drawn tightly around her like a shadow. She wanted him to join, and the invitation itself carried a rare weight coming from her. But Mark's chest tightened. Something about belonging to a team—it wasn't distrust exactly, but he wasn't ready.
"Give me some time to think about it," he said quietly.
She nodded once, a small flicker of something—maybe disappointment—passing over her face. Moments later, she slipped out just as a gentle knock sounded at the door.
"Mark?" His mother's voice floated in, laced with curiosity. "Who were you talking to? I heard… laughter."
Mark glanced at the empty corner where Raven had been, then back to the door. "Ah… no one, Mom."
She opened the door a little wider, peering in as if her eyes could pierce the lie. The room looked normal—neatly messy—and she could see no one else. Still, her brow furrowed.
After a moment, she left, though the suspicion lingered in the air like a scent.
The moment the door clicked shut, the familiar hum of the chat rang in his mind.
[Solomon: How about you take her offer? It's not bad to join a team.]
[Artoria: Definitely. Working together increases your chances of victory… and it forges bonds.]
[Mark: I don't know if I'm good at working with people. Especially Robin—just looking at him makes my stomach turn. I can't tolerate his attitude.]
[Gilgamesh: The mongrel is right. A king does not need subordinates to fight his battles. Victory must be won with one's own power alone.]
For the first time, Gilgamesh had sided with him—something that immediately made Mark suspicious. Encouragement from Gilgamesh was rarely a good sign.
[Ozymandias: Do as you desire, boy. But remember—your choices shape your consequences.]
Mark leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Possibilities spun in his mind—what joining the Titans might mean for his future, for his independence, for the mission to free his father. The thoughts tangled until fatigue dragged him under.
By morning, soreness from last night's battles clung to his muscles like lead weights. He forced himself upright, went through the motions of getting ready, and made his way to school.
Class was a blur of droning voices and flickering lights. Raven was absent, and that absence left a strange emptiness in the room. His mind kept circling back to one goal: infiltrating Luthor's lair to retrieve his father.
Telling his mother was out of the question. The Cadmus incident hadn't yet hit the news, but he knew it was only a matter of time before it spread.
Classes ended. Kara appeared at his side, her usual radiant smile bright enough to stand out in the crowd.
"Mark, what's going on? You don't look okay," she said, concern threading through her voice.
"It's nothing you need to worry about."
She frowned, not buying it. Kara already knew about his powers—she'd even revealed her own to him, though he'd known from the start who she really was.
"Mark. Don't shut me out. I'm your friend, remember? You can talk to me."
Her hand closed around his arm, strong enough to remind him that if she wanted to, she could turn bone into powder. Realizing her grip was too tight, she quickly released him.
"Sorry," she said softly.
"It's fine," Mark replied, hiding the lingering ache. Avalon's healing hum took care of it quickly enough.
"I'll tell you the truth… just not now."
The shadows of last night's events still clung to him, and the time wasn't right.
School was over and outside, the crowd's murmur shifted to surprise. Parked by the gate was a sleek black limo, gleaming in the sunlight like a predator in wait.
Students craned their necks to see who it was here for.
A woman stepped out—black suit, hair spilling over her shoulders, her beauty sharpened with an air of authority. Mark's eyes narrowed as the image of the previous night flashed in his mind. His magical circuits pulsed, ready to summon steel, but he forced himself still.
She approached. Mercy.
He met her gaze with a silent challenge, the unspoken bring it on radiating from his stance. But instead of hostility, her voice was calm—almost pleasant.
"Come with me."
Mark's lips curled into the beginnings of a refusal… until she slipped a photo from her pocket. His father. Alive.
The threat was silent, but it rang louder than any shout.
Mark slid into the limo.
Inside, Lex Luthor sat with the ease of a man who owned everything in sight, swirling wine in his glass as if this meeting were nothing more than a minor appointment.
Kara, watching from the school steps, froze when she saw him. Her jaw tightened. Luthor meant trouble, and she intended to follow.
For several minutes, the limo's interior was heavy with silence.
Then Luthor spoke, his tone dripping with casual arrogance.
"So… you're the one who wrecked my project the other night."
The images of the dead, of Cadmus' horrors, slammed into Mark's mind. His vision narrowed, anger flaring so hot it made his circuits sing. A sword shimmered into existence in his grip, its point flashing toward Luthor's throat in a single smooth motion.
The space between them seemed to shrink to nothing, the blade's edge catching the low light. Mark's grip was firm, his breathing steady, but every muscle in his body was coiled to strike.
Luthor didn't even blink. He looked at the sword, then back at Mark, his calm so infuriating it almost demanded violence.
"Careful," he said evenly, "or someone else will pay dearly for your mistake."
The words sliced deeper than any weapon. Mark's mind flicked to his father, still in Luthor's custody.
The rage twisted, then folded in on itself. With a slow, deliberate breath, he lowered the blade, letting it dissolve into nothing.
For now.