Location: Kobra Base, Everglades, Florida
Interactions: Metamorph @DClassified, Zatara @Crimson Flame, Team

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Talos looked from Metamorph to the soldiers, then down at Stormcaller. He wanted to stick around to back up his comrade, it wasn't in him to turn tail and run. But, he was still feeling woozy from the aftereffects of the sound gun and Stormcaller was unconscious. Even if he could fight without the risk of tripping over himself, he wouldn't be able to give it his all if he had to focus on protecting her. "Fine," he relented as he lifted Stormcaller into his arms while his extra arms reverted back into wings. "Just don't get yourself killed, alright? That is not a conversation I wanna have with Kassy."

With that, he took off into the air, flying as fast as he could. He heard bullets whizz past him, but he paid them no mind as he flew to the dock, where Zatara was already working on getting the boat running. He landed on the dock next to the boat and crouched down to pass Stormcaller off to Zatara, saying, "Take care of her. I'll be right--"

His blood ran cold when he heard Rain calling for Nymph over the comms, to no response. He swore under his breath and took off without a word the moment Zatara had Stormcaller in the boat, the wind from his wings buffeting his friends in the boat. "Keep them off my back and I'll see if I can't spot her from up here!" he said, despite wondering if he'd even be able to see her from the air, regardless of whether or not she was in her petal form.

T H E E V E R G L A D E S

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“A swamp isn’t the place for flowers now is it….?”

An unfamiliar voice came through via Daphne’s earpiece. The enemy ceased fire, receiving commands from the shadows. The swamp returned to its pre battle ambience of humming and animals moving unseen through the bog.

A man exited from one of the buildings in the center of the water treatment plant. The platform of the building was raised higher than the others, signifying that the building was of importance. He stood on the platform with a quiet confidence, surveying the situation. From his attire the Team could easily tell he wasn’t part of the agents they were fighting just minutes earlier. The most distinctive feature was his face covering. A mask, one side darkened, like an immovable shadow and the other a muted orange color.

The doors behind him opened up again to reveal a familiar green orb floating slowly to his side. Inside the orb was a storm of pink flower petals, fighting to get out. Occasionally the petals reformed into a shape much like a falling star, with the head launching itself against the walls of the orb.

“Seems like they wanted to leave without you….”

He motioned for the woman wielding the force field from some unseen place. With another wave of green energy she sent a barrel of gasoline rolling towards the forcefield. It attached itself to the bottom secured into place by a suctioning force. Without warning the forcefield suddenly inverted causing the gasoline to slosh inside. It forced Daphne to retreat to the upper part of the orb. Eventually most of the inside became submerged with gasoline and Daphne gave up her petal form. Just as she was about to run out of air the forcefield dissipated and she was freed.

“But it’s alright, little flower, I'm here to take care of you…”

The man yanked Daphne up by her hair. She was coughing violently, leaving hardly any breath to scream.

“Seems to me that you little heroes are in quite a situation. Don’t worry, the solution is simple. My employers lost something, and they want it back now. So, how about a trade: The Metamorph for the Nymph. Hand him over, we’ll let you run. Take your chances, and the girl is cooked.”

As soon as Zach managed to get the boat running, Vincent threw the unconscious Stormcaller before taking off. “Yes, because babysitting is my passion.” He deadpanned.

Of course that didn’t last long because a creepy voice came up over comms. Belonging to a creepy mam with a creepy mask. Apparently he had Daphne, and this just turned into a hostage situation. Zach’s heart sank. Ugh, a hostage situation? Really? I just got the boat started too. He thought to himself, trying to keep it light. The alternative would have been panicking.

He then tapped his comms. “Ok seriously? We’re dealing with a cartoon villian threat now? Somebody better have a plan… I could try something magical… but after all the magic I used today, it might be too much of a risk.”

Location: Water Treatment Plant
Interactions: The Team
Mentions:

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“A swamp isn’t the place for flowers now is it….?”

Viktor whipped his head around as an unfamiliar eluded to Daphne over comms. The enemy disengaging from attacking and the sudden quiet that followed signaled the arming of the trap Kila mentioned. He stepped out from behind a tree he was using as cover, getting a view of the raised platform and none other than the infamous mercenary known as Deathstroke with Daphne in his possession.

Deathstroke…

His visage produced more emotions within Viktor than he was comfortable with. Awe, anxiousness, fear, and doubt were the few among them. However, it was the feeling of nostalgia that aimed to emotionally cripple him. Viktor was more familiar with Ravager, his predecessor of superhuman serum redeveloped by HIVE. A serum hailed in the organization only due to the feats of the man who now had his team caught in his clutches.

Taking slow and mentally uneasy steps forward, Viktor found himself only able to watch Daphne get doused in gasoline. His mind felt divided on what to do as options and contingencies slipped away. Only partially present, events leading up to this moment pieced themselves together.

Ja’s unconsciousness in Taos, the bank heist, the nonlethal weapons, the strange man at the docks, and now this. The demand for Metamorph further pieced together the puzzle for Viktor. He was being tested. Vitkor stopped in his tracks. The Red Beast was being tested… For his ability to surface, combat capabilities… and his closeness to us. They knew he'd think of us. They knew he'd come here. Is this even Kobra?

Viktor groaned in frustration as the options narrowed down to only two. Daphne or KJ. Without effective range, the numbers, or a reliable way to escape, fighting back now wasn't in the cards.

“Each member of the squad understands the risks.”

Viktor focused on Daphne, soaked in gasoline and coughing from inhaling its fumes.

“Weighing your options is simple. What's more valuable? Who's more valuable? To the objective. To the team. Cull the weak if it's necessary.”

“Shut it, Zatara. Everyone, get to the boat and prepare to extract with the objective. You too Metamorph.”

“Deathstroke, the Terminator… You want us to trade Metamorph for Nymph? Disappointing. Your bargaining chip is pathetic. Burn her if you want. You’d be doing me a favor by ridding my team of someone who never belonged in the first place. Trap or not, we have what we came for,” Viktor might have said all of this if he hadn't grown as much as he had during his tenure with the team.

He was far from the person he used to be. He valued and trusted each and every member of his team, and that is why he chose to approach the situation starkly different from what he had been trained to be for years.

“Team, be aware that our adversary now has access to our comms,” He informed, though he wasn't entirely against Zach badmouthing Deathstroke. “Metamorph… Come to my position but… I believe you know what you have to do.” His sights remained fixed on Deathstroke. The idea of facing off against him ever-looming.

---

Kilamanjaro was conflicted.

At first, it was while he was still fighting. While dodging fire and attacking their opponents. Between the pieces of action, there were small snapshots of training camps and facilities. The unsettling feeling that the few uncovered faces Kila caught glimpses of looked vaguely familiar. People he might have served with once, now with weapons aimed at him. Though, really, it only now served him not to hold back his blows, knowing their training. The hunger instilled in soldiers in training.

He’d originally convinced himself that he just needed to hold out a little longer. Keep them occupied long enough to make sure everyone was accounted for and their escape plan was assured. That as soon as the team was fully regrouped, they just needed to run. They could contact the Justice League to repel Buredunia’s efforts to capture them.

When Iceburn, Rain, and the others made their way out, Metamorph had been making his way nearer. Though, that was when an eerily familiar voice came in from his team comm system. Kila hadn’t heard that voice for years. However, the fear of that voice from childhood briefly resurfaced in his eyes. The Red Lion had employed Deathstroke before. The lingering feeling of something being amiss proved true when The Meta turned his head upward to the Terminator clutching the little flower.

However, the terminator alone wasn’t what instilled such a fear in the ever courageous young lion. It was the ultimatum given. They weren’t here for his team, like he’d thought. They just wanted him. It was now that he felt his true ignorance. This was a trap for him, because of his own sense of duty to his team; his new family. Part of him always knew that BSF would always try to get him back…When he was with the team, he always had the confidence that even if they came, they’d work together to fight them off.

Now he debated if he arrived too late or if he should have never arrived at all. Should he have sent a message Red Tornado or Black Canary what he theorized? Should he have informed them where he was actually going after he left? Maybe then they’d meet him here, even if only to attempt to stop him, they’d be close enough to help the team if he couldn’t be there. Then…perhaps Nymph— Daphne, wouldn’t be in this situation. Kila should have listened. He should have stayed benched…

When hearing Rain’s voice, suggesting to come to his position, Kila had one thought. The young lion didn’t even consider jeopardizing Daphne’s life in an attempt to fight for his own freedom. It was ultimately his punishment for the foolish risk he took. Moments of his time with the team, old members and new, flashed through his memory with every footstep.

Kila had just confessed his heart to Kassy a day ago. Maybe it was his own fault for thinking he had a chance to truly escape his captors. To find a life and love of his own. He pulled off his Metamorph mask and held it in his hands. It shook slightly in his hands shook as he walked, but he dared not dip his head. It wouldn’t be forever. He swore it.

”I’ll come quietly. Just…” He called aloud, as surely Deathstroke could hear him. Kila eyed Rain before he tossed the mask to the ground and looked up to where the mercenary was.

“Don’t hurt her anymore.”

---

Iceburn's blood always ran cold. So it wasn't fear, but frustration that clenched her fists, forcing snow out from between her fingers. Indignation bubbled like boiling water in her chest. The Deathstroke...here? For Metamorph? How had he known that Metamorph would come, how did he get Nymph? What had happened while she was inside? If only she could be in two places at once! She pushed her hands against her head and groaned angrily, trying to calm herself down. Think, think! God, she didn't even know what was going on! Some part of her hoped that Metamorph had brought back up, but considering that nothing good was happening, she doubted Green Lantern or Black Canary was going to swoop down and save the day.

The only wildcard they had was Talos. But if he charged in from where he was flying and got himself killed, what good would that do? Worst of all, if he got Nymph killed? If she was closer, she could freeze Nymph, keep her from being set ablaze. But her powers were at their strongest within thirty feet. And beyond sixty feet, her powers were sub-par. If she did anything to blast herself over there, it'd be too slow. He had eyes on all of them. If she was with Talos, they might have a chance. If she was with Metamorph they might have a chance. Hell, if Stormcaller was awake they might have a chance. But they were all in the wrong places. The correct answer was to not have been in this situation in the first place. They were already falling, the only thing they could do was brace for impact.

”...Fuck.” The fire went out of her and her shoulders slumped, defeated.The snow melted and the mist emanating off of her stilled, the sticky humidity of the swamp settling in once again. Metamorph had to give himself up. They couldn’t let Nymph die like that. And whatever they needed him for, they needed him alive, so they could track him down later and rescue him. That was the only path forward, the only one she could see.

She wanted to threaten Deathstroke. Say that he should watch what he does, lest he summon the full wrath of the Justice League. But a guy like him would hurt Nymph just to make a point, even if Iceburn was right. She took her earpiece out of her ear. ”We can get him back. We’ll get him back.” She said to the others, trying to be reassuring. ”We can rescue him. It won’t be forever.”