Another zombie dead and Max was starting to feel his muscles become tired. His training had helped him develop endurance, but in a life or death battle his adrenaline and training would only keep him going at full strength for so long. These unholy beasts just kept on coming and Max had to become more precise with his strikes to try and minimize his usage of energy in order to keep from tiring out. After he shattered the bones in a zombie's neck severing the spinal cord, Max switched to using his shotgun and began shooting at any undead that came near him. It was a few seconds afterwards that Zane the magic-user suddenly appeared beside him. This caught him off guard and he almost took aim, but he stopped himself after realizing that it was a teammate. When he heard Zane ask if he needed any help Max just gave the teenage magician an 'are you serious?' look.

"Of course not, why would I need help when my powers are perfect for taking on a bunch of infectious undead?" he said with his voice full of sarcasm.

"Of course I need your help! Everyone needs help right now, we're getting overrun so get that magic working and do something to clear this place of these wretched creatures" he said sternly to the Titan as he blew open a zombie's head scattering its brains all over the floor. Max then heard Rhea's response to Rufus' commands and he knew from how she had spoken that the news of the twins had made her desire to kill these fiends. He understood her pain, he too didn't want to show these things mercy and he wouldn't, they had killed two of their teammates.

"Thermo, Cell, if your still here we need you get here as fast you can. I know that you're devastated with what happened to the twins, I am as well, but we need to stay strong and defeat these fiends. Never give up! Titans now! Titans forever!" he said into the communicator and hoped that he could get their leader to keep his spirits up in case he had lost them after hearing of Lock and Load's death. One thought also came into his mind, where the hell is Sentinel?!, the Kryptonian still hadn't arrived yet and Max was getting frustrated at the absence of a heavy hitter in this horrible situation. They now more than ever needed a Kryptonian's strength to help put an end to this horror and chaos.

Super-senses. They had their uses, I've told you this before. They let Sentinel find people trapped miles underground. Or they alert him to a plane falling out of the sky that needs catching. Perfect power for a Kryptonian, right? They help guys like Isaac prevent tragedy. Yet...Sentinel can hear everything in the tower. Even down to a pin drop. There wasn't anything he wasn't aware of. That's not always a good thing. He could hear Cell and Thermo bashing their way through hordes of the dead to get upstairs. Sentinel could hear Devil and Magi fighting in the hangar. He could hear Whirlpool, and Static, and..and..

The screams.

He could hear them screaming.

"W-What?" Sentinel muttered as he bashed zombie after zombie. He tried his best to be non-lethal. After all, Rufus thought they could be cured. Isaac stopped fighting when he heard the twins scream. The young Kryptonian whipped his head towards the hangar, using his X-ray vision to see through the metal and stone. He focused in on the T-Wing, and he watched. Sentinel watched the husks tear the girls apart, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Sentinel felt his lip quiver as his hearing went haywire, like someone turned it up to eleven. Now he could hear even more. Flesh ripping. Eyes popping. Blood flowing. "GEM! SIA!" Sentinel screamed. The Titan impaled multiple husks on his fists, chucking them at super speed into the horde. He charged towards the hangar, using his body as a battering ram. The Kryptonian slammed through the wall, landing with a thud on the hangar floor. The zombies that had been attacking him rushed through the hole Sentinel made, making a mad dash towards the new fleshlings. Sentinel ignored everything else as he sprinted toward the T-Wing at mach 2. He tore through metal like it was wet tissue paper, exploding entire corpses with a swing of his fists. "Lock? Load?!"

Sentinel knew they were dead. He'd watched the husks pull them in half. But maybe his eyes had lied. Maybe he could save them.

The Kryptonian broke through the final door, chucking it out of the T-Wing as if it weighed less than a feather. Isaac stopped in his tracks. The plane was filled with blood. There were maybe half a dozen husks, all surrounding the twins' bodies..Or whatever was left of them. "NO!" Isaac cried. Two beams of heat, as intense as any fire, incinerated the walking dead. Sentinel stumbled past the seats towards where they had been. He fell to his knees in a pool of their remains, searching desperately for any sign of life. Two, beautiful girls, now reduced to nothing but entrails and organs. Not even a limb was left unscathed. Grant tried to speak, but he felt like his throat was stuffed full of chalk. Tears ran down Sentinel's cheeks as the young Kryptonian screamed. His cry was primal, guttural. Inhuman. Sentinel roared like an enraged, mindless beast as he destroyed the T-Wing in a ball of fire. Isaac's eyes glazed over as he walked out of the flame.

Another roar exited Sentinel's throat as he began to attack anything that moved. Zombies and husks fell in spades, heads exploding from the sheer force of his blows. The dead crumbled as they were froze from the outside in. Others disappeared as Sentinel's heat vision erased them from existence. The Kryptonian fought with reckless abandon, destroying everything in his path. Bodies fell all around Isaac as he lashed out. In his blind rage, Sentinel mistook Stunt Devil for a husk. Isaac slammed a powerful fist into the teenager's chest, sending the unsuspecting hero flying with the impact. (Or, perhaps not. Perhaps Stunt Devil dodged the wild blow. It was difficult for Sentinel to make out what was happening.) A normal person would have died. Luckily for Max, he wasn't normal. Sentinel turned his senseless eyes towards Zane, moments from punching a whole in the magician's face. In a moment of cosmic irony, it seemed the husks had decided to target Sentinel and Sentinel alone. The Kryptonian was tackled to the floor by a horde of growling, drooling cadavers before he could hurt his teammate. "RAAAAARGGHHH!" Sentinel leaped into the air, dragging the horde with him as he slammed through the hangar ceiling and flew out into the sunlight. Sentinel crashed into the ground, kicking up dust, dirt and chunks of island as he hit the rocks. The zombies stabbed with their knives and bit with their teeth as they dog piled on top of the steadily weakening superhero.

"NO!" Two beams of bright light shot out of the pile, catching the dead on fire. Sentinel turned his eyes erratically in a fit of panic. He turned the dead to ash in his final throes. Sentinel stumbled, his vision blurry. Another wave of husks was already charging at the weakened Titan. "I'm sorry!" Sentinel slammed his fists onto the ground, using the force of his blows to send a wave of earth into the crowd of husks, smashing them under the weight of the rocks. "I-I couldn't save them either. I can't save anyone!" Isaac was losing it. He was rambling like a madman as he tried to protect himself from the seemingly endless hordes of the living dead. "All my fault!" A husk tackled Sentinel to the ground, more jumping on top of him as the seconds past. "Always my fault..."

Isaac Grant let the void swallow him. The darkness appearing at the edge of his vision threatened to envelop Sentinel forever, yet he couldn't fight it. He wouldn't. Isaac felt his life slipping between his fingers as the husks drained him nearly dry. Isaac used what was left of his strength to grab his communicator. One final message to the rest of the Titans, before Sentinel let himself die. But what should he say? What could he say? "I..." He started, trembling. "...Only wanted to help." Then the little, yellow disk fell out of Sentinel's hand.

Goodbye, world. I deserved every minute of your torture.

I'm no Superman.

When the party stopped, I went to bed. At least, I tried to. My chandelier was in a thousand pieces and the bed felt no better than the glass on the floor, so I did what any bat-human hybrid would do, I left and found myself a perch right below a gargoyle. When I woke up, panicking crowds, hungering hordes, and cars winding through the chaos painted over my portrait of the dawn.

I did my best to help. Away from the team, I was sure the Teen Titans of all people wouldn't need me at their defense. Some flying blue fool nearly impaled me with his helmet at one point. The disruption didn't stop me from diving down and pulling a class of schoolchildren to safety, depositing them atop a monument of modern art. They were afraid of me as the zombies however, and several fell to their deaths or into the arms of the undead.

I tried to save them. Almost makes me want to cry.

The few that were transformed walked on, still living momentarily. Although a few got the sharp end of Sentinel's 'sword', deceasing immediately at his might as though it were an obligation.

But I kept on the move, raising people to safety, avoiding the killers, mercenary types, and demi-gods scrambling for control and a sense of importance in this mess. Me? I don't even want to be here anymore. Some of us could hear each other die. I would've loved to come save Lock & Load, but I was tied up rushing a nursing mother to safety.

Then I realized how I'd been worse than useless away from the team. In fact, I heard the mighttiest heartbeat in the entire city spike and realized that none of us were cut out for this alone, not me, not even our lone wolf-powerhouse. So at great speed I flew, I used some conveniently nearby drilling equipment and I penetrated to the room where my fr-teammate was expiring.

Skreee!

At once, I gave the mightiest rip my lungs had ever felt, I swore I'd torn my larynx in half. But it was worth it. Mathematically so and otherwise. Knowing from the days experience I'd grow weak at lower proximity, I revealed from my pouch a sack of explosives I'd lifted from the Batcave days before and I tossed them all around the boy in the cape.

"If we were completely different people this would be a precious moment, but you've got me for now! Come with me before I have no *cough* choice but to go. I need you, personally I need you to live."

Zane flinched at his harsh tone. The boy could be mean, but he understood circumstances and his question was a stupid one. He cut through two more and remembered what he brought for this situation. "Hey cover me I need a moment." After he said that one of the more aggressive zombies charged at him and impaled its self on Zane's sword, but still took them both down. With some force he pushed it off and grabbed the spell book he brought. He looked at Max and saw that he was getting tired and weaker with every zombie down so he thought he would help. "Danw" the sword turned back into his wand and he pointed it at Max. "Eb ti etom os, lliw ym dna stneicna eht fo rewop eht yb, ecnaruden evig ma dna lleps siht htiw fo eugitaf fo uoy laeh I." The spell should have taken away his fatigue, and given him a boost of endurance for a little while. "Hope that helps.

He looked up and saw two more Zombies hone in on him. "Yticirtcele." A bolt of electricity shot from the tip of the wand and fried the two undead creatures. Then he turned his attention back to the book and started to flip through it to find what he was looking for. "AH-HA!!!" he said with a shriek. The spell was right behind talking with the dead. "Eb ti etom, daed eht hsiuqnav ot erif htaed gninrub eht fo emalf eht nommus htaerb txen ym htiw htob meht xim, htaed ot htaed, erif ot erif." Right after he said the last word nothing happened for a moment and Zane got scared. The his wand started to shake and he pointed it at the nearest zombie. The wand shot out a giant green fire ball and it consumed the creature. The two more sprung from that and so on and such forth. It would slowly burn anything that was undead to ash...hopefully. Zane looked astonished for a moment, he did not expect the spell to work, and then he started to feel the effects of it soon after. He fell to his knees and was out of breath for a moment his lungs felt dry and sweat touched his brow. "Hey! Don't touch the green fire, it should not burn anything living but I don't know yet, it's supposed to kill the zombies." he said into his communicator right before he fell over and clutched his stomach in pain. Never doing this again!! He thought to him self.

Venting. Venting is universal. You can't have a building without the proper venting, that's not just the law but it's also common sense. It's probably why that old story about robbers sneaking around in the air-vents is so prevalent, because everyone knows it's there. Everyone knows there's venting, so why couldn't a would-be thief, or a wannabe John McClane be sneaking around in there?

Well, there's lotsa reasons. Firstly air vents are a lot smaller than you'd think. Like real small. Like almost to small for a person small. Also, it's made of sheet metal, and sheet metal has sharp edges, so if you're not careful you'd end up cutting yourself to shreds. There's quite often fan arrays too, making traversing the tight confines even harder. Gratings a lot harder to remove than it seems in the movies. don't forget that. All in all doing the old vent crawl is an utter bitch, and really very rarely worth the risk of getting stuck midway, necessitating you to shout for help and getting rescued by the fat, middleaged fireman who gropes your ass as he cuts you out of the prison you, of your own free will, crawled into yourself!

Which shows you how desperate the situation is, seeing as I've spent the last twenty minutes sitting in the Titan's Tower ducting, watching through a ceiling grate as my team mates fight for their lives against the undead.

I reacted quickly after the first alarm (Quicker than Sandstorm anyway, who I left snoozing peacefully earlier this morning) but as I was heading to the hanger I spotted a strange sight: A horde of zombies shambling into the Tower. I stood transfixed for longer than I'd like to admit, though to be fair it's not everyday you bear witness to what a reasonable person could only assume is the end of days. Then the screams started sounding from down below, and I knew there was trouble. Real trouble.

I'd be lying if I said my first instinct wasn't to run, though whether it was away crying for my momma, or towards my cornered teamates guns blazing, well I'm not willing to say. That's not who I am though. It's not how I was trained. I don't have super-strength, freeze rays or magic on my side. Hell, even Stunt Devil has unbreakable bones. No, all I got is my training, and the knowledge of how to get things done. So I slid into the vents and crawled along them - I memorized the lay out, thinking it would be handy for just this kind of situation - until I found the outlet above the hanger. And so here I am.

Reconnaissance. That's what they call it. Watching you're enemy. Compiling information. Working out the angles then manipulating them to work in your favor. That's what I've been doing. See, I know there's an intelligence behind this attack, one that's beyond anything the zombies have displayed individually. Otherwise why would they attack the Tower directly when they were already in the city? The Titan's home is too far out of the way, and too low in bodys for this to be about just food for them. No, someone's guided them here, whether to get rid of the cities staunchest defenders, or for some fouler reason I can't say. What I do know is that someone must be leading these beasts, and my gut tells me they're hear too, hiding amongst the horde.

So I watch and wait, hoping I'll spot my target before they spot me. I daren't expose myself, not even for a second, in case I forfeit my one advantage. I didn't even move when the horde descended on the twins, though lord knows I wanted to. I'd be a monster if I didn't at least want to. But I didn't. I stayed put, like the good little soldier. I might get mad, like the other Titan's, but I never lose control. Not even for a second.

Then I see him. The big ugly. Jaw near hanging of his face as he watches Sentinel fall, like one of them snakes that can eat a cow whole. It has to be him. The leader. None of the rest of the zombies have pulled that trick, and unlike the others he isn't racing to get at the Titan's. Nah, he's hanging back, holding up the rear like the coward he is. Well the bad news for him is I don't have to get close to put him down.

The grate falls clear after one single boot. Guess they aren't as hard to remove as I thought. I pop my head out, right arm snaking behind, pistol held tight in hand. He's some distance away, a difficult shot for a regular marksman. Good thing I'm anything but regular.

"Hey, you!" I bark. He looks up. I want him to know who killed him.

"This is for the twins." The pistol comes up, aiming right between his beady little eyes.

Bang.

As the bullet penetrated through the Zuggernaut's skull, the zombie ceased to move. Collapsing to the floor of the Titans' tower, his the layer of black, scale like skin fell off as Matvei's body reverted and his finally bled out from the slash across his throat, dying at the feet of the Titans. The remaining zombies across San Francisco followed suit as they collapsed to the ground, the effects of the Zuggernaut's attack shedding off like a layer of dead skin. The bodies beneath were dazed, confused but otherwise mostly unharmed save for those the Titans had attacked. Two days ago, San Francisco had a population of just under five million, after the Zuggernaut's attack, that population had been cut in half.

The damage to the city was astronomical, doors were kicked in, countless windows shattered and vehicles were piled up causing congestion in nearly every major roadway.

"The zombies just stopped." Evan's voice came in over the Titans' personal commlinks. "Looks like those underneath weren't soulless after all." Evan added as landed Bellophron beside the water, looking towards the tower in the distance. Smoke rose from the city as sirens echoed around every street corner, emergency services now swamped with injured more than before. Wading into the water, Evan cleaned his blades and shield, a single tear running down his face at the thoughts of the innocents who he had speared in rage and impatience. Out of the corner of his eye, Evan noted a motorcycle lodge in a tree, a body draped in orange and black lay beneath it. Silver hair was spilled out on the ground, singed and burnt as Evan gently rolled Rose over, placing two gold coins where her eyes had been before the heat vision had seared her face clean off.

Military helicopters circled the city as the army arrived to assist in the fallout, but Evan sat down on the bank, staring out into the Pacific feeling only shame and defeat as he began to bitterly weep.

---

"My fellow Americans," Alexander Luthor began, standing in front of the podium as he began his address to the entire country. "I come before you tonight as a man burdened. Burdened by sorrow and regret as I have to inform that San Francisco, once a glimmering gem of the Western Coast is no longer with us. The city was felled with tragedy as its population was reduced by more than half during today's events..."

Evan lifted his head towards the TV as he sat in what was left of the tower. The salad in his lap barely touched as dark bags hung under his eyes, his battle stained clothes still on while several empty bottles laid scattered at his feet.

"... It is for this reason that I can no longer allow these vigilantes to operate within our borders. General Slade Wilson and I have have come to you tonight to unveil the Vigilante Registration Act requiring all known vigilantes to surrender their identities to the American Government and cease and decease all vigilante activities. They were not appointed, they were not elected and they entrust entire cities to children who aren't able to make the required sacrifices. It is for this reason, the Titans' Tower will be shut down immediately and each member of the team will be prosecuted as adults to the fullest extent of the law on account of mass manslaughter bordering on genocide..."

The sound of mechanical monstrosities could be heard outside as helicopters circled the tower. Evan glared angrily towards the ground as tanks pointed their guns towards the tower. How did they allow this to happen? How did the League allow this to happen to them. He had no idea what the rest of the Titans were planning on doing, but he was running.

They all stopped. Time seemed frozen. One moment, dozens of lifeless, walking husks were biting and pulling at Sentinel. The next? They just...stopped. No more growling or moaning. No more biting. They all rolled off of the dog pile, sounds of confusion and terror echoed throughout the crowd of now-free civilians. Sentinel tried to piece together what had happened as he helped a young woman, about his own age, off the ground. After Eric had appeared and saved Isaac's skin, his hearing had been disorientated by Microbat's screech. Yet, Sentinel still heard the bullet loud and clear. The Kryptonian turned his eyes towards the tower, his eyes locking onto Simone when he spotted her. There was a moment of relief knowing she'd not only survived the attack, but killed the enemy leader. The relief didn't last as the smell of smoke and distant fire reminded Sentinel of his utter failure. The caped hero stepped towards the edge of the cliff he currently stood on, looking out over San Francisco as it burned. Sentinel tried to ignore Amazon as he activated the Titan's communicator. Isaac didn't want to hear what Evan was going to say. They all knew it. When they guessed that the zombies were incurable, they had guessed wrong. Now, they were all bonafide murderers. It was all impossible to take in at that moment. So much had happened in such a short span of time...It was all so surreal. Sentinel looked down at his shaky, weak hands.

"Dear God. What have I done?"

Those were the last actual words Sentinel spoke for the rest of the day. To his credit, Sentinel spent the rest of the day helping clear rubble and rebuild what he could. While some people definitely appreciated Isaac's help, most were not as forgiving. They knew what he'd done. Word traveled fast about all of the corpses Sentinel had left in his quake trying to help. People mocked him. They through bricks, beer bottles and whatever else they could find. Isaac held it together until night fall, before retreating to the remains of the tower to weep. His anguished cries persisted until the next morning.

---

In the Hall of Mentors, Isaac sat. He had curled up with his legs in his chest with his back leaning against the statue of Superman, Superboy, and Supergirl. Sentinel had taken his cape off, draping the alien blanket over himself. Isaac felt so cold. That was pretty uncharacteristic of a Kryptonian, who could brave the temperatures of space. The Titan stared at the ground, watching an ant carrying a crumb out of the tower. Two and a half million people. Dead. That's two and a half million husbands, fathers, sons and daughters who's families would never see them again. How many of those people had died in Sentinel's arms? How many lives had he personally stomped into the ground in a fit of uncontrollable rage? It was impossible to know. More than a hundred, at the bare minimum. What a strange feeling Isaac was overcome with. Not too long ago Sentinel had pledged to give every super-villain what they deserved: a ticket straight to Hell. He had wanted to avenge all the people they had killed. In a moment of universal irony, Sentinel found himself with bloodier hands than most. Even some of the people he had tried to murder in what he had so foolishly called justice were cleaner than he was now.

It's like Isaac's life was some kind of cosmic joke. He tried damn hard to be a good man. To do what he thought was necessary for the so-called greater good. But the universe just threw that into his face, and laughed. You want to save these people? You want to make the hard choice in service of others? Fine. Here's two and a half million people dead because of you! Chew on that for a while why don't ya?! There was probably someone up there, watching this all unfold, laughing as he causes so much pain. Well up yours, whoever-you-are. I'm gonna sit here, wallowing in a pool of my own tears until the world falls apart around me. Never gonna do this hero thing again. I'd only end up making things worse.

Well now, my boy, that's no way to look at things.

Huh? Who are you-

Don't you recognize Uncle Kent Nelson's voice when you hear it, son? Well, not exactly 'hear...'

How are you in my head?

There are things you don't know about me quite yet. A lot of things, actually. I'll tell you when this is all over. But right now, I'm going to need you to get up, my boy.

No! I'm done! FOREVER!

You don't mean that. Superman-

I'M NOT SUPERMAN!

No. No you're not Superman. That would be too much to ask of you, me, or anyone else..

There was a moment of silence within Sentinel's disturbed mind.

What does that S on your chest mean?

I-It's Superman's symbol.

That's right. Superman gave that to you, because he thinks you're worthy of wearing it. And who are you to disagree with the Man of Steel?

Another moment of silence.

What's that S mean, Isaac? What does it stand for?

On Krypton, it means hope.

What I'm asking you to do is hard, Isaac. It's probably the hardest thing anyone is ever going to ask you to do. I'm asking you to hope. Hope for a brighter future, a future where peace and justice reign. Hope for the world to one day become right, whether you see it or not.

How, uncle Nelson?

One foot in front of the other. Don't look back. Keep your eyes forward. No matter the failures, the pain or the trails. There's nothing you could do that can't be redeemed. Even...Even this. Just because you stumble doesn't mean that you're lost...

"...You just have to try harder." The the voice left, as quick as it had appeared. Isaac couldn't explain it. He'd felt so weak, he could barely feel his legs. His chest had burned and he struggled to breathe. But now? He felt better. Stronger, than ever before. He couldn't explain how his uncle had spoken to him. Maybe Isaac had finally gone off the deep end and was hearing things. Or maybe his uncle was a superhero. Both sounded equally as absurd. Sentinel pushed himself to his feet, looking at the statue he had rested his head on. He gave a small smile before his attention was brought elsewhere. The voice of Alexander Luthor vibrated in Sentinel's ears, accompanied by the ever so subtle distortion caused by radio waves. Isaac made his way upstairs to the source of the sound, finding his fellow Titan watching television. Evan looked like a mess, which seemed out of character for the usually jovial (and naked) warrior. Judging by the empty bottles surrounding his chair, Amazon was dealing with the pain however he could. Isaac felt for Amazon. In fact, if Isaac could even get a little drunk, he probably would have joined him.

Sentinel turned away as Luthor continued his propaganda, his attention occupied by the sounds of helicopters and tanks approaching the tower. The Kryptonian looked back at Evan and the TV for a moment, deep in thought. They needed a plan. Now. Sentinel rushed towards the nearest intercom, pressing the alarm button to wake the rest of the Titans. "Gotta give us a minute to get clear.." Sentinel muttered. Isaac grabbed his communicator, flipping it on as he stared out the window at the approaching army. "Titans. Gather in the kitchen! We've got trouble! I'm gonna try and buy us some time to get away. Rao help us all."

With that, the Kryptonian leaped off the balcony and out into open air. One of the tanks opened fire, a shell careening towards the attacking Titan, perceiving the charge as an act of aggression. The round exploded on Sentinel's chest. The Kryptonian, unharmed, landed in front of the tank that attacked him. He tore apart the barrel like it was made of butter and rendered the tank nearly useless before moving on to the next. He grabbed the barrel this time, pulling the entire turret off and chucking it into the bay. One of the helicopters turned its machine guns on Sentinel, opening fire. Isaac moved before the bullets could even land, grabbing the crew of the tank and moving them out of harms way. The Titan jumped into the air and landed on the helicopter, wrapping his fingers around the cockpit and pulling it off. "Parachutes!" Sentinel screamed at the top of his lungs as he dragged both of the airmen away from the free falling helicopter and let them go. Sentinel waited until their chutes popped to continue his assault, careful not to harm accidentally harm anyone. These soldiers were innocent. Just doing their duty. Sentinel made it as bloodless as possible.

Max was in complete and utter shock when Sentinel burst into the hanger and then upon seeing what fate had befallen the twins went into a mindless rage. The Kryptonian attacked him and hit Max with a high-powered punch to the chest. The sheer force of the blow would have killed any normal human upon impact, but his unbreakable ribcage took the brunt of the hit. The blow still caused him to fly back at least thirty feet before slamming into the wall of the hanger. He was in a lot of pain and dazed momentarily by the punch. When his mind cleared he remembered that the hanger was still swarmed with husks and he quickly got to his feet. Thankfully he had dropped his bat close by after being hit by the crazed Sentinel and he quickly rushed to pick it up just in time bash a zombies' head with a powerful swing.

It was at that moment when Zuggernaut was killed and the husks reverted back to normal. Max was speechless as he watched what he had thought was no long possible happen before him. The zombies were human again and then a horrible feeling entered his body and he felt sick. He had killed innocent people who could have been cured somehow and now Max had their blood on his hands. He dropped his baseball bat and fell to his knees and then vomited onto the floor.

"Oh...Oh God! What have I done?!" he said as he began to hyperventilate from having a full-on panic attack and tears began to fall from his eyes. The zombie he had killed before they changed back was now the body of a sweet looking young girl who looked to be slightly younger than he was, and he had horribly killed her. Max had seen some gruesome crimes happen, but nothing made him more disgusted and sick than seeing that he killed people especially this girl, he could have saved them. He didn't know how long he stayed there and it didn't matter to him. Max eventually picked himself up off of the floor and slowly went to his room.

A day had passed since the horrible tragedy and he heard the emergency address that president Luther made to the country and felt a deep sorrow enter his body upon hearing the total number of innocent civilians that had died in San Francisco. He then heard the helicopters and tanks approach, he thought himself, we deserve to be locked away. But the more stubborn part of his brain told him that they didn't know and would have died had they not fought. Max then thought of Sentinel and Rufus and his anger boiled up.

He wanted to yell at them so badly now and upon hearing Sentinel's voice come on over the communicators he wanted to tell the kryptonian to go fuck himself, but he kept himself from doing so. Right now they had to get out of this place and then he would unleash his fury upon his two teammates. Max entered the kitchen and looked at JC hoping that his teammate would still be willing to lead them.

"What now?" he asked Thermo with his voice full of guilt and sadness. If they escaped then they would be hunted relentlessly by the authorities. He would probably have to never go home or see his parents so that they didn't become involved in this mess. He also didn't want to see the look on his dad's face when he saw that his own son had thrown his life away. His dad was crippled for the rest of his life and now Max would have this crippling guilt for the rest of his life now.

"JC..." Rhea mumbled his name like a small prayer as the brief physical contact between the two of them left her barely capable of coherent speech. No, it wasn't the hug that really triggered the reaction. Actually, the words that JC spoke to her caused whatever doubt in her mind to vanish all too suddenly. Every letter, every word that left the fellow titan's lips were laced with an emotion that Rhea had never expected JC to have: concern and care. While everyone was busy turning against one another, blaming themselves for the deaths of their comrades, they weren't just fighting against the zombies but against themselves as well. Rhea knew that she couldn't mope around and feel sorry herself; she had to move and do everything she can to end it. As the visage of the de facto leader vanished from the stairway, Rhea turned to Static with a nod. "I be fine, Static. Lez just try and be helpin' da others." With that, the healer sheathed her katana as she sped away but, before she could do so, a wave of zombies blocked her path which she fought back by lopping a few heads. However, a guttural cry was heard as the cadavers began to fall one after the other; they fell like how marionettes did when their puppeteers severed the strings. Rhea raised her brow in confusion, opting to sheathe her sword back when, suddenly, the zombies began to revert back into their original forms-- innocent civilians; man, women and child were all slain at her hands. The rolling heads turned from mummified husks to fleshy people, spurts of crimson liquid ejecting brutally from the cuts and wounds. Like a blood fountain, the dismembered dead coated the healer with a stain of red so dark that a repugnant and sanguine stench invaded Rhea's nostrils. This was not good... not good; not good...

Rhea began to feel that her fingers were becoming numb, her feet refused to budge and her very nerves were frozen solid. Her eyes widened in horror, her auburn eyes trembling in pure terror. SHE FELT IT AGAIN... she heard it all, saw it all! Like nightmares that never vanish even when you open your eyes, the horrors of her past ensnared Rhea, pulling her down to the depths of her sanity. Rhea's fingers gripped her hair tightly, pulling her locks with all her might, causing the chestnut strands to fall to the ground-- forgotten. She began to whimper pitifully. Every breath she took was pained and labour, her core dropping coldly without restrain. It seemed that she was trap in a box barely enough to fit her; there was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape and she was trapped in the darkness with her nightmares and fears as the vivacious accompaniment to her orchestra of sorrow. The people she killed... they were innocent civilians; she had sliced off a child's head, she had mutilated an elder woman... Did she really deserve this fate?! It was... hours since she was suffering and, during this time, the very threads of her sanity were threatening to snap when a benign face with crimson hair assaulted her shackles with much light and warmth; like a blazing phoenix, her kindred soul reminded her of the words which she, herself, uttered. "Just... 'cus... I be stumblin'... dun mean dat... I lost... I just be needin'... to try... harder..." Rhea chanted to herself, peeling her fingers away from tearing her skull apart. "I'm... Rhea... sixteen... years old... I'm... no, no... I'm... a titan." she mumbled softly, feeling her frayed nerves begin to ease down.

Rhea wobbled as she stood up, slowly slinging the katana over her shoulder via a rope that was attached to the sheathe. She slowly walked around the devastated base, her eyes blurring towards the dead civilians around the place. It seemed that titans were already starting with cleaning up the place. She would help soon... not now... but soon. Her aimless wandering landed her outside of the Hall of Mentors, hearing Sentinel's voice echoing the words that had pulled her out from the chasm of her mind.

You just have to try harder...

She had heard him mutter. Rhea would have wanted to see him, her first friend on the team but... it felt wrong to smile at him when her heart was still not through blaming Sentinel for something that was out of his control. She'd talk to him soon but not now. She would smile at him when her conscience was clear; smiles were supposed to be genuine after all. She placed her bloodied hand on the great doors, her mind in solemn contemplation. She knew he could hear her; he always heard everyone. "Thanks..." Rhea sighed before removing her hand from the door, leaving a bloody handprint on the once pristine barrier. She wanted to go somewhere... somewhere... quiet. Rhea wanted to be alone; she needed to be alone.

The only place which wasn't as bloody as the ones she went to were the gardens. Only in this serene place did Rhea plop down, feeling a little bit relaxed since all Hell broke loose. The flowers looked extremely beautiful today... This was the last thought that entered her mind before her cellular acceleration abruptly shut down. Rhea's eyes rolled to the back of hear head before she succumbed to a much awaited slumber. She was going to be out for a while and, when she would awaken, she would need to eat... a lot.

---

Rhea's eyes fluttered awake as the rise of a new morning sun greeted her. The healer stretched her arms before standing up, waltzing over to her room, noticing that the titans must have cleaned everything up. Well, this was awkward... she was useless in the cleaning, after all. Chances are, they also saw her sleeping in the garden, bloodstains and all. The healer looked up to her chalkboard, steadily picking up a chalk before tracing down two vertical lines on the left side of the board. "Rest in peace." Rhea solemnly mumbled before cleaning herself up, walking down to the kitchen and fixing herself a well-earned breakfast. The katana that was now normally slung behind her was not just there because Rhea had found a weapon; no, it was more of a memento from Rose who the healer had not heard from in a while. For the rest of the day, Rhea helped out with cleaning up the tower, not really daring to venture out into the city for she knew that horrid sights would await her there.

---

Soon, even Rhea was surprised when Sentinel screamed into the communicator, warning them of an incoming trouble. In an instant, Rhea sped down to the kitchen, just in time to hear Skelly's whined inquiry. Rhea spun around the corner, the sword behind her. "We run." Rhea grimly stated. "Dis not be a question of dem killin' us; it's a question of us bein' able to stop ourselves from killin' dem. If Luthor's bull-droppings is true, den, da public be already scared of us. Knowin' dem, if we be turnin' ourselves in... they'd just be usin' our powers for der purposes." In an instant, cannons began to fire into the air, making Rhea realize that their time was running short. "We did what he had to do to survive. We're not like Tulip or Sentinel... if we had held back... we'd be the ones dead. Ye saw what happened when dey killed Lock an' Load. If dey killed anyone of us... they'd be unstoppable. We did da people a favour... by not letting ourselves get done in." Rhea shuddered at the thought of the zombies merely killing Skelly and her; the blokes would have invincible bones and enhanced regeneration from a cellular level... they'd be, more or less, immortal. Her eyes turned to JC with a pleading gaze. "We can't be lettin' it end like dis, JC."

It sickened her to say something so lightly when faced with the notion of them murdering thousands of civilians, but she knew that she had a point. For the most part, Tulip, Sentinel and Evan had the largest chances of holding back. However, for titans like them... one mistake and they would have rested in pieces.

It had arrived last night with a note attached; I had a friend develop and manufacture this. It is a prototype, so bugs may be present. Friend will continue developing more tools for your use. Use it responsibly. The writing was neatly sterile, betraying not a shred of character or voice, the kinda writing that's damn near impossible to identify. Of course it would be, he didn't want to run the risk of anyone intercepting the message and realizing the sort of people he fraternizes with. Wouldn't do for his image or his legend, to be associated with the likes of her. The ultimate potential stain to his reputation, hanging around with a borderline gun-toting mercenary like me. Still, doesn't bother me all that much, I got what I wanted.

A brand new gun.

And it was a beauty. If Apple ever got in weapon designing business I imagine they'd look a little something like this. It's an assault rifle, but the kind you imagine folk blasting each other with in the future. An outer casing of brushed, blueish steel, slightly warm to the touch. That's probably cause'a the alien core vibrating away cheerily inside. The weapon sit's in my arms gracefully, so I can only imagine it was made with my measurements in mind. Slightly worrying how whoever made it knew what my measurements are, but that isn't enough to dampen my ardour for my latest toy.

What? So some might think I'm using my new baby to distract me from the scary going's on outside, to help me ignore the horror that I bore witness to earlier in the week. To enable me to forget the literal cities worth of corpses the team were responsible for. To avoid the small matter of me letting the twins die, all so I could make a more effective end to the zombie apocalypse that threatened to go full on extinction level. So what if I'm repressing! It's worked for me so far.

Course with all these emotional gymnastics I've been doing lately you might forgive a girl for only realizing at the last minute that we've got the United States military rolling up on our front door, eager to have a word and not willing to take no for an answer. I try and muster some shock, but in all honesty I knew it was coming. Buncha kids taking the law into their own hands, one of them wearing a big 'S' on his chest, in Luthor's country? It was never gonna last. It was always just a matter of time before things got heated.

Doesn't take me long to pack up my new rifle and grab my bug-out bag. The military might have us cornered, but I'm confident I can slip away undetected, especially when they get tied up detaining the team. I feel bad about leaving the others, but really why shouldn't I do it? We're not really friends, and technically Luther is right. They did kill all those people, even if they weren't people at the time. Not that I think they deserve to be punished for it, they were just defending themselve's, but it would quell a lot of public unrest if there was at least a show of them being made to answer for their crimes. They'd never do the time for it, not really. The Justice League would never allow it. No, they'd get hauled into Washington, made to say their sorry's, then let off on some superhero technicalities, probably have to do some kind of extreme community service. After all, they did help to save the Western seaboard from a zombie apocalypse (Technically I saved the seaboard, but I'm more than willing to consider them accomplices) No, they'll be fine, even without me.

It's surprising how easy it is to lie to yourself.

I don't even bother grabbing my armour. I've got more stashed away elsewhere, and it's not like I'm going to need it right now. After all, who's stupid enough to fight the military?

"Titans. Gather in the kitchen! We've got trouble! I'm gonna try and buy us some time to get away. Rao help us all."

Of course. Sentinel would be stupid enough to fight the military.

I'm halfway to the kitchen before I realize what I'm doing. That idiot Kryptonian is about to give me the perfect distraction to exit, stage right without anyone noticing, yet I'm running to the rest of the team. Why? I mean really why? I can't understand it. Like I said, it's not like I'm particularly fond of the team. In fact apart from Evan's pert ass there's really not much to recommend the group of misfits. But, I realize, they are my misfits, and are collectively so stupid they'll probably get themselves all killed before the sun's down without me. I pull out my communicator on the way down.

"Sentinel, stand down, right fucking now!" I make my tone as icy as possible, the kind of tone that really brooks no argument. It isn't hard. I'm so sick of this Superman wannabe's macho bullshit that I'm this close to doing my damndest to convince the rest of the team to abandon him to Luthor's mercy. Would certainly solve a lot of our problems.

"Whatever good reasons you think you have for attacking the United State's military, forget them. They are not good reasons. We could have gotten out undetected without you smashing the countries defense budget, but as usual you flew off half cocked without a real plan."

"The team can still get out, but you need to stop before you make things any worse for us. Run now, lose any pursuit, then make a roundabout route to Star City. We'll meet there when I've deemed it safe." I cut off then, hoping he listens but half expecting him to argue. So far every time he's been given the choice between an intelligent, well thought out, reasoned action and a dumbshit, knee-jerk, no-thought-spared-to-the-consequences reaction, he's gone charging happily off in the latter's direction.

"What now?" I hear Stunt Devil ask as I reach the others. He looks lost, dejected, like a puppy without an owner. He's looked that way for days. He's been so miserable that even I've been tempted to give him a hug. I didn't though, perhaps unsurprisingly. Hey, it's not like he was dying or anything!

Cell gave one of her long, disjointed, vaguely foreign, and really time consuming speech. Time, I'd like to point out, we really don't have, but for some reason the others lap her sentimental we-are-a-team-and-we-stand-together stuff up, and by the looks of them all right now they really needed it. Still, I wish it could have waited until after we'd safely gotten away.

"Beautiful Cell, really beautiful. Now everyone huddle in, because we don't have much time and I'm not in the habit of repeating myself. We are NOT fighting the military. At all. Any one thinking along those lines is going to get us all killed. The public hates us enough after we made a ghost town of San Francisco without us attacking their sons and daughters who are just acting on orders. Besides, we do that and we're effectively declaring we believe ourselves above the law." If I'm honest with myself I kinda think that already, but there's no way I'm declaring it out loud. That's the kind of jackass maneuvering that get's you locked up in Belle Reve.

"In fact" I continue, "I imagine that's exactly what Luthor want's us to do. Instead we're just going to deny him the spectacle he wants, and just disappear. Luckily we have a magician who can help us do exactly that." I neglect to mention Sentinel's probably ruined the 'no spectacle' part of my plan, but I'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

I beckon Zane over and whisper a set of co-ordinates, one's that belong to one of my safehouses in Star City, in his ear. I don't want anyone not in the Titan's overhearing, and who know's what kind of listening equipment is fixated on us right now.

"Teleport us there right now Zane. We can restock once we're there, then decide our next move." Not that I particularly want the Titan's to be snooping around in one of my 'homes away for home', but you know what they say about desperate times. And seeing as I apparently find it a lot harder than expected to ditch them, and there's no way in sweet hell I'm going down with them, then I guess they have to come with me. Not a great loss, I've got other hideaways they don't know about after all, but still a touch annoying. Just another slight Sentinel has performed against me.

Or at the very least I'll decide our next move. After what I've seen lately I'm not sure I'd trust these kids with sorting through a bus timetable, never mind organizing themselves when they've become enemies of the state.

JC arrived at the edge of the roof just as the shot rang out. This had to be the one that was heard across the world. He was prepared to end this all and make a giant ice sculpture with zombies in it, but what he saw changed that. He saw the remaining zombies returning to their normal human selves. He felt a certain emptiness inside. He couldn't believe this had all happened. It felt like a horrible nightmare that would have even gotten to him. He was slowly, yet surely becoming him. It seemed that all JC needed was a few more pushes and then he'd be his father.

He made sure to head back downstairs and heat the frozen civilians that were fortunate enough not to receive an ice spike or be burnt to a crisp. It was a process, but it was the least he could do. They weren't frozen long enough to die from the effects unless their systems were weak. He didn't know how many of their family members or friends that he had personally killed and he didn't want to know the number. The more he thought about it the more sick he got. This was the ultimate kill or be killed situation. They couldn't relax around these zombies, because if they did then they'd be the ones dead and then there really would have been a zombie apocalypse. He had rather not this world turn into a popular TV show or movie.

Much later JC found himself heading down to the memorial statues. He looked at the fallen members of the team and thought about the twins and Rose. Evan had returned and told them that he Rose died out there. Another death that was essentially JC's fault. If he hadn't confronted her back then maybe she'd be alive now. He had to figure out how they were going to make statues for the twins and Rose. He wasn't a sculptor or anything and he didn't know if any of the other Titans were. This was all assuming that they'd even be able to stay here after today. He doubted the world was happy with their efforts today.

They royally fucked up two days in a row. If they did for a third he'd have to go to Vegas to try his luck. Jeremiah stayed in this room for the rest of the night and actually slept.

--------

JC woke up the next morning still feeling as shitty as he did the day before. He was still in his blood stained and tattered clothes. He'd have to wash up and change. He went back upstairs and cleaned himself up. Fortunately the bathrooms and rooms weren't all that messed up. The zombies were focused on consuming their lives so they weren't trying to destroy empty rooms in the tower.

He walked to the living room/kitchen area and immediately noticed the bottles around Evan. It seems that he was really the type to drink away his problems. He used a party to hide that the night after Lobo. He watched as Luthor gave his address to the nation. He had no problem with registering his identity. He wasn't exactly keeping that a secret anyway. But what he wouldn't let stand was Luthor saying that they didn't know how to make the required sacrifices. They lost three of their own members and they did their best to prevent this whole epidemic from spreading.

"You don't know what a damn sacrifice is." He didn't know why he was talking to the television. It wasn't like President Luthor could hear him through it anyway. He resisted the urge to blast the TV just for showing that pompous face.

He walked over into the kitchen with the others. Max asked him what they were going to do. It seemed that in their eyes he was still the closest thing that they had to a leader. Even if his leadership cost all those lives. He had planned to answer, but Cell did instead. They were going to run. But where to was the real question. "We won't let it end like this, Rhea. I promise that this isn't the end." He didn't know why her gaze was getting to him. He's been changing and he doesn't like where it's leading him. While they were discussing it Sentinel was out doing the only thing he knew how to do. Cause a lot of property damage. He wasn't watching, but he hoped he wasn't killing anyone else out there.

Pistolera seemed to be taking charge now. Who died and made her Queen? Okay, that thought may have been insensitive since there were a lot of people who died yesterday. But that still didn't give her the right to lead things. Why did he even really care? At the beginning of yesterday's situation he didn't even want to be the team's leader. Now he was mad because someone seemed to be taking the job? Or maybe his overall anger was just spreading. He honestly didn't even know anymore. He's shown more emotion in the past three days than he has his entire life.

Simone apparently had a safehouse in Star City. Pft. He had plenty of those thanks to his father. Seriously, what was this? Why did this suddenly turn into a mental dick size competition? He hoped Zane could get every member there without overexerting himself.

"When we get there we'll decide what else to do. From here on forward we're fugitives of the law. Outlaws." Okay, maybe he just had to get the last word in.

Zane heard the gun shot over all the noise of combat and fire and ruin. Then all of the zombies turned back to normal people and his pains were going away. The fire was meant to destroy anything undead but with all the zombies gone they went away along with the effects of the spell. He felt like shit after wards, he had could only see a few piles of ash but still, the thought that these people could have been saved sent waves of sorrow to his core being. His first thought is what could the others of his family think about what went on here? Would they come for him and his magic? How were his team mates faring with the situation?

So many things went on in his head but for now it was time to mourn and grieve those that were lost. Everyone else did not look much better, everyone had a look of disappointment and shame on their faces.

__________

The next day he woke up a little later than most. He had stayed up late helping with the repairs and worked until he passed out from lack of energy. He woke up with a little drowsiness due to the activities from the day before and his shoulder hurt, but other than that he was fine. He was studying the arcane when the news report President Luthor had about how to handle the situation. Then he ran to the kitchen to see his team mates all standing there debating what to do. He caught the end of Rhea's speech and then truly new this girl had a good heart. Pistolera came over and whispered the location of the base in Star City. This would be easy for him a simple portal could take them there in minuets. "Ytic Rats ot latrop a nepo." After saying the spell he drew a small circle in the air. The are were he drew it burned with a green light and then expanded into a much larger green circle, and in a flash the portal held the image of the hideout Pistolera had told him about. "Ok, it is open and stable just step threw. Lets all hurry because I don't know how long I can hold this thing open, and tell Sentinel to come inside before it closes."

His eyes were glowing green and the glow was fading, fast, as he watched his team mates step threw one by one. The only thing on his mind was JC's last comment, Outlaws, the thought scared him.

"Very well, then. I'll get him," Eric said, taking a deep breath. Not sure I'll be back in time, though, with this cliche' bit of inability to keep a portal open. Turning his attention and explicitly speaking to Rufus he said, "You stay behind until everyone else is through. Can't afford anyone being stranded without a ride. Except the twins," he added, fully realizing no one else would appreciate his dark humor.

Stepping away from the colony of Titans, he threw his wings open and flapped, throwing himself forward as he got a running start to the nearest window. He kept rowing like oars hung on his arms until he smashed out the window and his wings caught onto a thermal. He saw the Kryptonian ripping apart the military equipment. Maybe he isn't the solid decision maker I almost gave him credit for being.

"Sentinel!" he barked. Need to find his name, this is almost childish. Eh, I'll just use Facebook to find him later. Getting closer, he increased his volume. "Sentinel, we're leaving now!" That Kryptonian grade hearing is only as good as the attention he's paying. Just hope he doesn't get too... passionate.

Overhead, Eric saw a flying helicopter larger than any he'd ever seen. On it was a rotary cannon with a belt holding glowing green crystals. Unsure if that meant it was carrying Kryptonite, which he didn't see being too unlikely given that Luthor well knew the needs of humans to do battle with aliens, he took flight upward and nabbed the immediate attention of the gunman. Chirping quickly, he got an idea of how many were onboard. Saving himself the time of fighing them all, he dodged a steady stream of projectiles behind him before ducking under the helicopter, finding the engine access, and ripping out one of the belts in the motor's pulley.

As the chopper went down, he watched the army men leap out before swapping to handguns.

The entire ordeal took about seven seconds, but it was seven too many. "Now... or NEVER!"

I arch an eyebrow at JC, half way between annoyed and amused that he feels the need to have a dick measuring contest with a girl. By the looks of him I'd still probably win. Must be getting his panties in a bunch, thinking I'm trying to usurp him. Well he's right, but I got good reasons too, namely that his run as 'leader' has been a spectacular failure, the worst in Titan's history. I mean, Robin sure as shit never got the team made into pariahs, outcasts, murderers and traitors. No, a shake up in command structure is an absolute must, whether JC likes it or not.

"Sentinel's not coming with. . .” I begin, meaning to explain that for my plan to work in it's entirety then we have to appear to completely Houdini, but with the heat he willingly brought down on himself I can't be sure we wont be seen if he uses the portal with us. He's already got his orders, and besides, he'll have heard all this anyway, so we can meet up with him later. But of course all that becomes moot when Bat-Boy takes it upon himself to go and fetch our Superman imitator.

I resist the urge to sigh, groan, swear or shoot the flying rodent, or vent my frustrations in any other manner. Instead I just begin to manhandle the rest of the team through the portal before any of the others begin to have some not-so-bright ideas. I take an extra moment on Evan, just to grope him biceps. What, I'm having a stressful day, I need some sorta release!

Eventually it's just me, Magi and Accelerate standing alone in the kitchen. Funny, when I first started I pegged Rufus as the most dangerous one of the bunch, the only member other than Rose who was a real threat to me and my mission. Looks like Rose isn't going to be troubling anyone anytime soon, excepting them not being able to get the day off work for her funeral, and now with my newly discovered responsibility to these kids it looks like Speedy's gonna be the only one I can trust to get things done, and get them done right. Irony, I think.

“Can't leave this portal open any longer, not for those morons. You're the only one fast enough to stop them causing any more of a national incident than they already have. Stop them, do whatever it takes, then meet us here,” I whisper him the co-ordinates for the safe house. I don't bother saying good luck, or giving him advice on how to stop our pair of over-zealous cowboys. Rufus will have his own ideas on that front, and he's probably the type to chafe under too much management.

“Zane, follow me through then close the portal. The boys can look after themselves.” With that I step through. . .

. . . And walk smack dab into someone's back. Might be Stunt Devil, but I can't be sure because we're in pitch black. Smooth. I'm standing in the dank, dark gloom of my Star City safe house. I know it by smell, a heady mix of old diesel and gunpowder. First order of business, lights. Takes me a few seconds to find the gennie in the dark, and a couple more to get it to kick into life, then even longer for the energy saving strip lights to burn away the gloom.

With the lights the safehouse is revealed. A long, rectangular room, the short wall behind me serving as a display for my stache of guns, enough for a small army. Could still stand to get a few more. On the far wall is a series of targets, most of them bullet ridden. Too my left is a doorway that leads to the bedroom/kitchen/living space. I say kitchen, but it's really just a space with racking that holds barrels of purified water, boxes of long life foodstuffs and more than a few crates of candy bars. I've got quite a sweet tooth. To the right is the small bathroom. Not exactly the Ritz, but it'll serve it's purpose.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” I declare, fully aware that this place was not designed for comfort. It was designed to be a safe place for when the world ends, and I gotta say, this situation certainly seems to be filling those criteria. “I'm gonna check the news, see what the world thinks of us now.”

I head through to the living are, and try to get the old portable to find a station.

Shouldering his shield, Evan stood up fully intending on leaving his teammates behind, at least that was until Pistolera decided to show her cojones were bigger than everyone else's on the team. Unlike Thermo, Pistolera came up with a plan on the fly and implemented it immediately pulling Zane aside and having him produce a portal. Before he had a chance to object or even raise his shield, Pistolera had pulled Evan through the portal as he stumbled into the darkness of the safe house. Finding himself a seat on a munition crate, he looked around the dimly lit box eyeing the walls of guns for a fridge or a case of booze.

"Got any wine?" The demi-god asked almost slurring his words as he turned his head towards Simone. "Hell, I'd even settle for your mortal swill more commonly known as beer."

It was highly likely that Pistolera was going to say no. This was a safe house, not a getaway resort. There was no pool, no swim up bar and likely no masseurs in the back. What the team had done to San Francisco was unforgivable in the public eye, they had scorned the entire 'teen hero' population. Each and everyone of them would now be compared to the 'Killer Titans'. They truly were a group of outlaws as had been previously said by Thermo. Pistolera had the charge the team needed, she was a survivor and they needed that now, but Thermo was the one they needed in the public eye. Simone had demons, not saying that Thermo didn't but Simone's seemed closer to the surface.

Demons..

Perhaps it was the numerous bottles of wine that Evan had ingested or perhaps he had legitimately come up with an idea to redeem the team and clear their names. The people of San Francisco could be saved, if he sacrificed his divinity in exchange for the lives of those they killed. He would die a martyr but San Francsisco's population would be restored.

"I..." Evan croaked, breaking the awkward silence of the team. "I may have a bit of a solution to our problems." He added, pausing to see if anyone was listening to the drunk. "I think we can resurrect those who were killed during the zombie invasion, but we can't all go and those that do may not come back." He looked around at the gathered group. "Thermo and Pistolera, you two are too valuable to the team right now, so I just want to start off saying neither of you can come on this mission." Standing up, Evan straightened his disheveled clothes, cursing inwardly at his lack of a drink before continuing.

"We need to go to hell, or more specifically Tartarus. The realm of the dead, the problem is only four of us are going to fit on the ferryman's boat." Evan continued as he cleared his voice. "If I sacrifice my divinity, I believe it may count for the majority of the souls, and while I can't ask anyone else to give their lives, if anyone is willing I could use the bartering tools. Best case scenario, everyone else comes back, worst case scenario, the city comes back to life and we remain in the Asphodel Fields for the remainder of eternity." Staggering slightly, Evan returned to his seat as he looked towards the gathered group.

"So..." He asked as he looked around at the group one last time. "Any takers?"

"We have incoming!"

Sentinel landed on the helicopter with the grace of a drunk elephant. The rogue superhero shoved a fist through the hull of the aircraft, pulling out wires and electronics. The pilots inside the chopper panicked as the Krytponian smashed his way inside the flying war machine, grabbing the pair of airmen and jumping back off the helicopter as it went careening into the ocean below. Sentinel landed back on the island with a loud crash, placing the two soldiers down before leaping off to draw more fire from the encroaching military. Bullets bounced off his broud chest as Isaac rampaged across the Titans' island, defending it from America's own army. This was all Luthor's fault. Isaac vowed to hunt down the president if he survived this, and take him down for all the pain he'd ever caused. Politics be damned, Lex Luthor was the enemy of Superman. The first wave of attackers were thinning as Sentinel dashed around as nothing but a blur, dismantling warmachines and disarming soldiers as he went. Even down here, in the chaos of battle, Sentinel could hear his teammates in the kitchen. Rhea was trying to raise everyone's spirits. Stun Devil seemed confused and perhaps a bit depressed. People's biology betrayed their feelings to Sentinel's super hearing.

Mere moments from dismantling another M1 Abrams tank, Sentinel stopped in his tracks at Pistolera's orders. She sounded serious. Deadly serious. The moment of hesitation was long enough for the tank to turn its cannon on Sentinel and open fire. A shell of depleted uranium exploded as it made contact with Isaac's face. Instead of being obliterated into a pile of gore and blood, Sentinel smiled. Human weapons were pathetically weak. Kid Krypto's heat vision was enough to slice the turret in half and render the vehicle's weapon systems inoperable before Sentinel turned and froze a nearby Humvee with his freeze breathe.

"Whatever good reasons you think you have for attacking the United State's military, forget them. They are not good reasons. We could have gotten out undetected without you smashing the countries defense budget, but as usual you flew off half cocked without a real plan. The team can still get out, but you need to stop before you make things any worse for us. Run now, lose any pursuit, then make a roundabout route to Star City. We'll meet there when I've deemed it safe."

Isaac had to admit, Simone was right. As usual. He'd attacked U.S troops without considering any other plan of action. But now Luthor had even more ammunition for his mud slinging campaign against the Titans. Typical. Sentinel went and made everything worse in his honest effort to keep other people safe. Was there anything the Kryptonian teen could do right?

"Alright." Sentinel responded over the communicator. The military continued to waste their bullets as they fired on Sentinel, even as he stood still. "Good luck. I'll-" Isaac stopped speaking when Eric shouted out his name. Sentinel turned to see Microbat flying out of the tower and towars another helicopter. This one was different from the others, though. That much was apparent. Deciding to investigate, Sentinel used his X-Ray vision to scan the inner workings of the large aircraft. That's when he noticed the Kryptonite tipped bullets. A scowl crossed Isaac's face. "Luthor." He growled. Of course Lex would arm them with Kryptonite weapons. How else were they suppose to beat Sentinel? Did they have weapons for the other Titans, too? There was no time to check as Eric brought the helicopter down before it could unleash its payload. He'd have to thank the bat for that one later. Sentinel watched as the helicopter fell out of the sky, the men manning it already jumping out and using their parachutes. Isaac dashed into action. If that chopper crashed where it was, the men under it would be crushed to death. Sentinel leaped through the air at the speed of sound, slamming into the side of the aircraft. The force of the Kryptonian's charge was enough to change the helicopter's trajectory, sending it flying into the ocean harmlessly. One quick check for anyone inside confirmed they had all escaped in time. Good.

"Microbat!" Sentinel called through the communicator. "Fly outta here! I'll keep the helicopters' attention until your clear!" Isaac placed the device back in his belt before turning back towards the military, firing his heat vision into the air. "Hey! Over here!" The simple tactic seemed to be a success as the air force turned their weapons back on the invincible Kryptonian. Isaac waited, listening. He wouldn't run off himself before he heard the portal snap shut. He strained to listen as Pistolera whispered, catching the coordinates before she sent Accelerate off and left him here to lead Eric and Isaac. It was frustrating being assigned a babysitter, but could Isaac blame them? Sentinel hadn't made one good choice on his own since he had joined the Titans. That would change today.

"Accelerate. We gotta go-" A missile exploded around the Kryptonian as he spoke into his communicator, not batting an eye at the raging inferno. "I'll catch up with you in a minute. I have something I need to say." With that, Sentinel put both of his hands into the air. The explosions and bullets continued to fly for a moment even as Sentinel apparently surrendered. Eventually someone seemed to see and ordered the soldiers to cease fire. There was a tense moment of silence. Nothing moved. All Sentinel could hear was the beating hearts of the men and women in the tanks and helicopters. Sentinel glanced up at an approaching news chopper. This was his chance. Sentinel moved towards a nearby Humvee, looking through it until he found a megaphone. Perfect. The Kryptonian returned to his previous position, a group of marines approaching with handcuffs. He ignored them as they shouted orders for Sentinel to freeze.

"I know you can hear me Luthor." Sentinel spoke into the megaphone, as calm as he could manage after such a fight. "And I'm sorry." The soldiers froze. What was he doing? "I didn't know those people could be saved. I thought they were gone...But that doesn't excuse murder. So I'm sorry. I'm sorry to all the people who lost their homes. To all the children who lost their parents. Blame me for all of it. It was my fault." Sentinel paused, before pointing at the tower. "But don't blame them! I'm invincible. I could have held back. But the rest of the Titans? They're people, just like you. They bleed and they...And they die." Sentinel felt something jump in his throat. All he could picture were the twins as those zombies tore them apart. "My friends were just defending themselves. They had no other choice. Don't blame them. Blame me."

Then he disappeared, leaving the megaphone on the ground.

Max was still unsure if any plan would turn out too well and Rhea's words didn't help too much. It was true that if they were captured by the military they would either be locked away in prison for the rest of their lives or worse they could become experiments to use their powers for evil. Becoming a lab rat was one of the last things he wanted and this whole mess was as far as something could be from being what he had hoped would happen to him in his crime-fighting career.

"Running is obvious, but a little more ideas on how we do that would be good" he replied to her and then heard JC give an idea. Of course Simone also wanted to compete for the leadership, which of course was at the worst time to start arguing over who was in charge. She at least had the good idea of not going to fight the military unlike the ruinously impulsive Sentinel and Max couldn't help, but shake his head at the kryptonian acting without listening. He would have words with him later, if that ever happened and they didn't get captured.

He watched as Zane opened a portal with his backwards magic and was impressed by his teammate's versatile power. Real magic was a great asset to have in times of crisis, and Max quickly jumped through the portal to Simone's safe-house. He waited for the others to follow and wondered if they would get Sentinel to come as well before he caused more harm. A part of him wanted them to leave the impulsive kryptonian behind, but he reminded himself that they were heroes and more importantly they were Titans and Titans looked out for one another and don't each other behind.

Once the others were through Max heard Evan talk about the possibility of bringing those had died back to life. The thought of bringing the people he killed back to life gave him some hope of atoning for what he had done, and he wasn't scared of possibly paying the price, he couldn't return home now so he was as good as dead as far as his parents were concerned.

"I'll join you Evan, if there's a way to bring those poor people back then I gladly volunteer" he said to the demigod getting some confidence back his voice. He agreed at the demigod's request to not let JC or Simone come along since they were very important to the team and Max didn't want to see them lose a leader. Max also didn't want Rhea to come as well since he felt that she had seen enough horrible things already.

JC stepped through the portal and found himself in darkness. Maybe Pistolera didn't pay the light bill. Or she didn't leave the light on. That one made sense too. He conjured up a small flame in his hand to provide some light just so he wouldn't bump into anyone. At least until they got the lights situated. When she turned on the lights he looked around the place. It was a safe house alright. It wasn't something you'd wish to go to after living at the Tower, but it was what they were going to have to deal with for now. He realized that they were missing Accelerate, Sentinel, and Microbat. She must have left them behind. He knew essentially that Sentinel and Accelerate would be fine with their speed, but he didn't know how fast Microbat could move to catch up to them while also avoiding air support. They'd be fine. He just hated the fact that they left them. They needed to be together at a time like this.

When Pistolera said she was going to check and see what the world thinks of them now he looked around and pulled out his communicator. He stared at it and was about to drop it to the floor, but stopped when Evan started talking. At first he wasn't going to pay him any mind since all of his ramblings could've been just that, drunk ramblings. He listened to him talk about going down to Tartarus and sacrificing his divinity. Talk about sacrifices. He didn't want to send Evan off on this mission, but even if the guy was drunk this did seem to make sense. They all wanted those people to have their lives back. Maybe if they did this they'd also get Rose and the twins back. The latter was just a bit more of holding onto hope. He didn't know how the revival thing worked, but he wasn't certain they could bring back people ripped to shreds by zombies.

This may not put them in totally good favor with the rest of the world, but that wasn't why they wanted to do it. At least it wasn't the reason that he wanted to do it. He wanted those innocent people to have their lives back. They didn't deserve to come to an abrupt end. This whole ordeal changed him. He normally wouldn't have cared about what happened to the people that he killed, but now? Now, he wanted nothing more than to go down there and risk his life for theirs. It made him physically sick. JC knew that Evan was right about not sending him and Simone. They were the only leaders right now that the team had.

"This may be a dumbass drunken idea, but considering the fact that zombies came back to life, magic exists, we have powers, and gods exist it's not that much of a stretch. I'm going. We're supposed to make sacrifices like this. I don't care what you say against it. You need someone down there to make sure that this all goes down right. In the meantime. Everyone else that's not going needs to lay low. Destroy your communicators. After President Luthor realizes that we're gone the first thing he's going to do is track us with it. He's a genius after all. I'll let the others know."

He looked around at the others. They needed a fourth member for this expedition if they were going to actually go and he knew exactly who they needed. "Our forth member has to be Sentinel. Tartarus is filled with monsters, right? We'll need as many tanks as possible." He had no doubt that Sentinel and Amazon both would be the greatest help for this. Superman fought Greek monsters before, right? Sentinel should be fine.

It was now or never. With the boys outside spraying testosterone upon the tanks and soldiers that had began to siege their tower, any chances of them looking decent to the public eye was eviscerated with much brutality. Hatty wasn't going to hold this portal forever, so, with a slight pat on his shoulder, Rhea leaped through the waning rift. She tumbled through the dark chasm, tripping on her feet upon landing on the dusty floor. The place, wherever they were, reeked of dust and disuse; this was something that Rhea had expected of Smokey's hideout-- or any hideout for that matter. Finally, Rhea got to her feet but, no sooner did she do this, immediately a barrage of people appeared from the rift, one of them knocking Rhea back to the floor with his or her collision. "Great... just great..." the healer groaned before dusting herself, noticing that the lights were beginning to flicker on. She briefly saw Smokey waltzing around the room before noticing that the whole place had the stench of gunpowder in it, reminding the healer that they were in the home of a trained killer. Honestly speaking, she never expected someone so secretive and reclusive to share her home with them. For one, she could have easily rushed out of the tower and went to her hideouts without a second thought for them; she could have gotten away clean. She didn't-- that was what mattered to the healer who was busy examining the targets that were embedded to the walls, some of them were riddled with bullets. "Dis place be remindin' me of da monastery where I be comin' from." Rhea smoothed her fingers over the bullet holes, picturing the assassin to have trained here day and night. Her eyes turned to Smokey, noticing that she was paying little attention to them. Well, the assassin was normally distant to the team, so this was no surprise. Still...

"Smokey." Rhea began as a slight small formed on her lips. Heck, this might be the first time that she and Smokey interacted. "Thanks for leadin' us 'ere. I'm sorry for thinkin' dat ye might have skedaddled when things be turnin' fer the worst. I was wrong 'bout ya. No matter what other people be sayin', I really think yer a good person... if you dig deep enough--- like, really, really deep enough."

She might make a good leader in hindsight. She's got the brains and the beauty to seal the deal. Her ability to weave out strategies under the stress of pressure was already something that the other titans didn't have; she was the most mature out of everyone here. She didn't panic or become nervous and, if she did, Smokey had the innate talent to keep it hidden. Truly, she was the closest image of Rose that the titans had-- hopefully, she wouldn't end up the same way. Others may not agree but Rhea could really see Smokey leading them in the future. Sure, she held no visible emotions whatsoever but, then again, that's what the other titans were there for: to balance the leader out. A leader would always be hated, no matter what. No matter how many times the leader had succeeded, there would always be loathers and Smokey knew how to deal with them. She was headstrong and determined; the traits that the Teen Traitors needed the most at the helm. If there was anything that Rhea could do, it would be to follow Smokey's banner in the future. That is... if there was even a future for them to begin with.

Suddenly, Evan slunk out into the open, laying out his plans to go to the netherworld and, apparently, dance with some devils to resurrect the people that they had killed. The plan was plausible... if the ones who would go were the big-time titans like Tulip, Sentinel and Evan himself... however, if Rhea were to go, would her life really weigh equal to that of saving multiple lives? Unlikely. It still felt uncomfortable looking at Evan when the memories of him lashing out at her still echoed clearly inside her but, perhaps, it was all a matter of emotional highs-- they were teens before traitors after all. Now was not the time to hold grudges; besides, Rhea was never the type to hold grudges. Even JC pitched in with his idea of bringing Sentinel along with them... assuming Kid Krypto doesn't literally make Hell freeze over. She had to admit... the plan sounded tantalizing with the idea of bringing back everybody to life. However, an offer this good had to have a price that was just as good. After all, you can't get a porsche without throwing in an arm or two-- unless, you steal it. In their case, to bring back the slain, they would need to pay something more than just mere lives and divinity. Unless... they do something illegal-- heck, as if the things that they did were legal.

"What if lil'o Hades don't take no offer?" Rhea blurted out. She had heard some information on Tartarus or, generally, in greek mythology when reading books to improve her English. "I doubt he'd easily be lettin' yer hides outta Hell. After all, only the dead should be tippy-toin' inside Tartarus, yes?" the healer sighed in exasperation. "Look, I'm all for the plan. I think it be a good idea but we maybe bitin' more dan what we could be chewin'. Messin' with life and death could be havin' too many'a consequences." Her eyes turned to Evan, the one who had offered his immortality on a silver platter. "Evan, I be believin' that offerin' yer immortality should be da last resort when all else be failin'." Besides, should the civilians come back to life... Luthor might just take the credit for himself, putting us on the bad spot. We're already divided as it is... getting split up further would just be... insane.

So, what now? The suicide squad was composed of Evan, Skelly, JC and Sentinel? Brilliant... Rhea couldn't help but feel that they were all just puppets on strings; someone was pulling the threads and watching them dance like a sick entertainment. It seemed like... everything was just a part of someone else's plan. All events were like a line of dominoes... once the first piece fell, everything came down with it. All of it started on that one fateful clash at the chinese restaurant. The better question was... who assembled those dominoes?

Everything was moving way too fast for her. Just a week ago, they were still vagrant titans inside the tower. Now? Refugees on the run. "I can go if Sentinel don't want no trip to the underworld, but... he's not really here, is he?" Rhea pondered as she pinched the bridge of her nose in thought. "Just..." her voice broke. "...just make sure you all come back home. We've already lost a lot as it is."

I don't want to lose any more of you.

Pistolera

No signal. Balls. Guess I shoulda expected as much, considering I set up shop under the foundations for the Grell Street Bridge. Great place for hiding, not so great for connectivity. Setting up Wi-fi would be a bitch. Guess I'm just gonna have to operate blind for now, and hope Rufus has stopped the boys from doing anything too incredibly reckless. Fat chance of that, knowing Sentinel, but a girl can hope.

As I'm struggling with the portable Cell approaches from behind. I do my level best to ignore her, hoping she'll amble off, mostly cause I reckon she was going to bitch about my less than gentle treatment with the team. The last thing I expected was for her to thank me though, and it's fair to say I was more than a touch surprised. I struggle to dismiss it as a hallmark moment, try to work up my usual cynicism about such warm moments, but for once my bile just ain't level to the task. I'm genuinely touched by her earnestness, and while I manage to stifle the grin that threatens to invade my face, I can't do anything about the blush. I try to play it off cool.

“Don't worry about it Band-aid, what are friends for? And between us girls, well I was planning on ditching ya'll. Had the bag's packed and everything. Still more than a little surprised myself at how things are playing out.” And it's true. A little voice inside is still screaming at me to abandon the kids, head for the hills, and bury my head till this whole mess blows over. It's the smart thing to do. And yet, lord knows why, I'm still here. I feel a little better for admitting my character defect to Rhea, like I weight that I didn't know I had been carrying was lifted, and hope she doesn't think less of me for it.

Hell, look at me, worried about what other people think. Just like a real girl. There's hope for us all.

"Got any wine?" Evan. He'd been hitting the sauce pretty hard the last couple days, searching for oblivion and doing a pretty admirable job of finding it. Some people just can't cope with the horrors life throws at them, and it turns out Evan's one of them. Suppose being raised on 'Paradise Isle' doesn't really prepare you for life's tragedies.

I'm about to answer that there's some Old Pultney whiskey somewhere in the back and that he's welcome to it if he can find it, when he begins to sputter some half-sozzled shit about Tartarus, and immortality, and resurrections. Only, once it's all laid out loud and I get a sec to digest what he has to say, I realize that maybe it's not shit. It's actually, dare I admit it, a feasible plan. Though when the only option open to you is the one offered up by the half-cut Godling then you know you're in trouble.

While the others jump aboard the hype train, offering themselves up on the metaphorical chopping block, I get down to making a pot of coffee. Not quite the heroic endeavour you might expect of me, but I need time to think, and if Evan's heading into Greek hell then he's gonna have to sober up, the faster the better. And besides, how heroic do you really think I am?

The more I think on it, the more I'm left with the realization that this is really our only choice. The crimes levelled at us, the accusations being hurled at the team, they're all true. Luthor hasn't manipulated public perception so much as he's directed it. The people are equal parts furious, confused and terrified because they believe the Team slaughtered San Francisco, and like it or not that's exactly what the Team did, regardless of their intentions or reasons. They. . . no, we, committed the crime. There's no two ways about it. We can't clear our names, because our names are rightfully dirty. Instead all we can do is make up for our mistakes, and brining back the population of San Fran would be a massive step in the right direction.

I re-join the others and hand Evan the put of rocket fuel, directing him to drink. If we get time I'll put him through a cold shower. . . Ironic. Usually it's him making me need a cold shower.

I don't argue with JC when he demands to be let in on the Tartarus group, despite Evan explicitly stating he doesn't want either Thermo or myself, for good reason. Not that I think he's going to 'make this all go right' like he claims – everyone knows the stakes here without him keeping us on point - but because there's sure to be a lotta opposition down there, and the versatility of JC's powerset down there is sure to be a major boon.

I don't even poo-poo Stunt Devil's application to the suicide squad, though for his own sake I want to. I'm not as certain he's as suited to it as JC and Evan, unbreakable bones being fun, but maybe not enough to cut it in the underworld. More importantly he was on the verge of breaking down emotionally back in the Tower, and with Wonderboy on a drinking binge then that might be too many flakes on that mission for me to be comfortable. Still, it's his choice to go, and I admire his courage, if not his intelligence. If Evan hadn't taken the decision out of my hands I'm not sure I'd be able to volunteer myself.

I do put my foot down when talk of Sentinel going is breached though.

“No, Sentinel stays here. He's Kryptonian, remember, and Tartarus is mystical in nature. Too much of a risk to take sending him, seeing how fragile they are too magic. Rufus is a better option. Almost as powerful, without the vulnerabilities, and steadier to boot.” If she couldn't go herself then the speedster was the only other member of the team that she halfway trusted to get this delicate operation done. She just hoped he was as unflappable as he made out.

“Besides, we'll need Sentinel more than you will. If Luthor get's wind of our plan you can bet your bottom dollar that he'll try to stop us. Superheroes fucking up as bad as we have? That's the perfect opportunity for him to really drive it to Superman and the League, so he ain't gonna loose that ammo without a fight. As much as I hate to suggest it, those here left behind while Evan is in Tartarus will need to make a lot of noise, distract Lex while you get the job done. No one's better suited to that than Sentinel. He's got the 'S' symbol and everything, and as we all know flashing that in Lex's face is just as potent as saying that we banged his daughter.”

I slump into a camp stool, feeling drained all of a sudden. Without thinking too much about it I palm a ciggie and light up. Not the healthiest option in here, but it's not exactly as if we're talking about going for an organic brunch. Smoking is the least of my health concerns right now. Cell raises her issues about the plan while I puff away. They're good concerns, real concerns. Concerns I don't have answers too, not good ones anyway.

“Classic Greek mythology is filled with tales about heroes delving into Tartarus to save loved ones. This is just the next step up.” I don't add that the old tales usually feature the heroes getting lost in the world below, or failing miserably in their quests. Just doesn't seem like a big morale booster. “Honestly, as cut throat as it sounds, Evan's immortality should be more than enough to buy back the people's lives. They were nothing, not in the grand scheme of things, while he's a demi-god hero, made for great deeds. Hades will jump at that deal. He'd be a fool not to. And even if I'm wrong, and this is all a waste of time, what other option do we have?”