Chapter Text
40.
The dark haired vigilante twisted his escrima rods in his hold as he blocked a bat to his face. He grunted under the heavy weight and pushed back. He sent a sharp kick to his assailant and knocked the man off his feet. Nightwing stared down at his defeated opponents, turning to his friend.
The archer whistled - All Clear.
The vigilante surveyed the scene as his friend landed next to him.
“Ready?” Arsenal asked.
Nightwing answered with a playful smirk.
The pair entered the abandoned factory, moving quietly in the shadows. Nightwing watched the darkly clad guards, moving in scheduled patrols. Nightwing eyed their firearms, signaling to his friend. Arsenal nodded and crept ahead. He pointed at the vents, moving to scale the wall. The man covered for his friend, eyes taking in the preeminent danger.
He heard a click and watched his friend slip into the vents. Old factories harbored vents that were spacious. Nightwing slipped inside after his friend and they crept through the factory. The whirring of machines filled the space. The pair occasionally paused to count the bodies, noting the number of guards that increased the closer they got to the center.
Arsenal paused ahead of him. He cursed. The vents ended abruptly before a long brightly lit hallway. There were no corners to hide in. Nightwing tapped his friend on the shoulder - Proceed. The archer nodded and he slipped down from the opening.
The whirring grew louder.
Large wires extended across the ground and continued on into the sealed room, traveling beneath the steel door. The door was mechanized and newer than the rest of the old factory.
Nightwing slipped down silently. He stared at the door thoughtfully. He had been following this case for months. It started with a non-profit animal lab held in an underground facility in Bludhaven. The lab had blown up spontaneously - all present workers were killed in the fire. The cause of the fire was a gas leak. He had been present at the sight as an officer on duty.
It was a common tragedy in the impoverished city.
He filed his report but something felt off . His detective senses were going haywire. He read over the legal documents and everything checked out. He went over the lab reports. They were clean and ethical.
Studies for infectious diseases in animals placed the laboratory far away from the public. It was all perfectly laid out - too perfect.
He donned his night persona and took off to the site under the dark of the night. Everything was reduced to ashes. Nightwing contacted his friend in town for backup and the pair spent the week visiting the site, searching through the debris. It was too clean. The pair moved underground and discovered an older facility, hidden further down, old and forgotten.
It was older, much older with outdated equipment not found or produced in North America.
Nightwing located an older computer - a different model, heavy and box-like. The pair hauled the badly damaged device to his apartment, where they spent nights retrieving data.
The data was old but it painted a terrifying picture.
Project Revival.
It was an old project - one that dated back decades prior.
Objective: To revive multicellular organisms.
The pair spent nights going through the limited data. The reports dated back to the 1800s. The project had stopped abruptly, after a revived chimpanzee had returned defected. It raged berserkly and killed the attending researchers. The project was shut down, with no more grants from the government provided as it was deemed unsafe.
It was a closed chapter until the facility reopened.
The fire left the crime-fighters with limited outdated data.
Days turned into weeks before he picked up another clue. It was pure chance as he skimmed through submitted reports on the Batcomputer when he came across a minute detail - a laboratory in Gotham located in a warehouse, gone up in flames.
Dick took a copy of the report for his own perusal and reached out to his friend. Roy appeared within a day, hitching a train ride over. The pair analyzed the data over many sleepless nights.
“Wait wait! Here, there’s a witness statement about a group of armed men fishing a man dressed in a lab coat out of Gotham bay.”
Dick splashed his coffee in his hurry over to his friend. He skimmed over the report - a small detail - He scoured the surveillance CCTVs. Nothing. Hours passed before they found a clue. A recording of the familiar face of a guard was caught in the parking lot. They took his license plate number and watched him disappear into a black van. The pair hacked into the road surveillance and located the parked cars.
Multiple parked vans.
Parked near an abandoned factory.
Bingo!
The vigilante had located his target.
The pair stared at the sealed door. Arsenal pressed a hand to it. He turned to his friend and shook his head. They had to wait for personnel to scan their card. The pair climbed back into the vent and waited. A woman in a white coat made her way into the hall. She scanned her card and the door slipped open. She went in with a hurried stride.
The pair jumped down silently and snuck in after her.
The vigilantes slipped into the shadowed corners, taking in the sight of the large research facility. A number of numerous white coats moved around. Guards stood at every corner, on the upper and lower levels.
Nightwing counted the guards and he grimaced.
Too many.
The vigilante pressed a hand to his comms.
“This is Nightwing to the Bats. Does anyone copy?”
Silence.
His comm crackled.
Static.
Nightwing felt a sharp tap on his shoulder and he turned.
“What in the world is that?” Arsenal spoke.
Nightwing turned to where his friend pointed and his eyes widened in horror. A large glass encasement held a floating figure, suspended in the air. IV lines were connected to his wrists and arms. The lines pumped the blood out into various tubes. His long brown hair floated in the blue-green liquid. His eyes were closed and the man was unmoving. An oxygen mask was attached to his face, obscuring his features.
Nightwing eyed the tubes in concern. His blue eyes trailed the path of the IV lines and his eyes widened at the red substance filling up the tubes.
It was blood, dripping slowly out of the man’s veins.
The prisoner was being drained alive.
Oracle frowned as she lost the signal for Nightwing. She was keeping tabs on him throughout the night as she did for everyone on a mission or nightly patrol. She eyed his last location, before the signal cut off. She tapped away on her keyboard. Arsenal’s signal was off. She relayed a message on the comms.
Static.
Silence.
Oracle pulled up the files. Nightwing was working on a case with Arsenal but he was cautious enough to share access to the rest of the Bats. He left a footprint and a lead to follow. She skimmed through the files and she felt her heart sink. The boys were way in over their heads.
She read through the content, frowning.
Revival.
It reminded her of Jason Todd and the lazarus pit. She had a bad feeling about this and she refused to lose anyone again. Oracle hurriedly pinned the closest aids and sent out a dispatch message on the main channel.
It was all hands on deck.
“This is Oracle to all available Bats, Nightwing and Arsenal need immediate backup.”
There was a commotion within the lab - a panic began brewing before his eyes. Nightwing watched with a narrowed gaze as the guards made their way past the metal doors, running at a fast pace. Intruder . The vigilante turned to his partner and the archer nodded. Arsenal cocked an arrow and fired, aiming at the remaining guards. The man yelled out in shock. He dropped his weapon, clutching his shoulder in pain.
Chaos erupted.
“Shut it down!” A man in a white lab coat yelled.
He appeared to be in charge.
Not so fast.
Nightwing rushed after a guard who ran towards the control board. He tackled him and slammed a punch in his head until he was disoriented. He stood up and pulled out his escrima rods. The lab coats ran around, packing up their gear. The man stood in the center fuming angrily. He pulled out a revolver and aimed at him. The vigilante ducked as a round fired. The lab coat screamed as he was hit by another arrow.
Nightwing rushed to the glass encasement. He needed to get the prisoner out of there. He tapped against the glass.
“Arsenal!”
His friend turned to him.
“Aim one of your reinforced arrows here!”
The archer smirked and took aim.
He fired and the arrow sailed.
The glass shattered. Nightwing ran forward, sliding past a guard who tried to grab him. He caught the body with a grunt and lowered him to the ground. He pulled out the attached tubes carefully, wincing at the bruises left behind. He hesitated on the medical mask and moved his fingers carefully against the cool skin.
Nightwing removed the oxygen mask and his eyes widened in recognition.
The water receded and the teen found himself back on the splintering shores. The Paths continued falling apart around him. Boulders tumbled and the grounds cracked. Screams of his memories floated around him as his future slipped rapidly, in a flickering light that grew fainter with each passing moment.
The Founder’s words echoed in his mind.
Think about it and make your choice, whichever decision you will regret the least.
Eren’s breath hitched at her words and his eyes filled with tears. The decision he would regret the least - He recalled the steely gray eyes and low voice of his captain. The memory played in front of him, silencing the screams and terror in his mind. He watched as his captain rode out, turning to him among the chaos. His voice drifted through his mind - steady and calm in the face of madness.
I don’t know… I never have… I can believe in my own abilities or in the companions that I trust.. But no one knows how it will turn out… So choose for yourself whichever decision you’ll regret the least.
Eren felt his mind oscillate between his options. Leave or stay? He didn’t believe in himself - not anymore - Nothing had changed. He hadn’t changed. He was still a killer. He was never going to be a good man that operated on a white and black dichotomy. He couldn’t believe in himself. He was too tainted.
But if he didn’t believe in himself the other option was to believe in those around him and in their ability to ground him.
Would they be able to?
Eren knew he had the capability to become a monster - his friends from Before were unable to ground him. They couldn’t stop him and they had to end his life to curb his madness. Eren stared at his hands. He didn’t know which choice was the right one. But if he based his decision on what he would regret most, he would regret…
He thought of his friend’s snarky attitude and steady back.
“Batman will fucking chase you like mad if he found out you killed someone, even if its a filthy fucker who deserves it. This-” he waved to the numerous bullet wounds. “-will paint it as my work.”
He thought of his younger friend’s bright mind and warm blue eyes.
“I want to help,” Tim spoke. “No listen, you guys said it. Friends are family? And I’ll be damned if I let my friends suffer through winter knowing I can help.”
Eren thought of the brightest presence in his life. Of the kid he loved and cherished above all else. The kid who looked at him with earnest eyes and trusted him with his heart and life. The boy he called his brother.
I know Crime Alley criminals Eren… You’re not one …
He wiped his sore eyes and he let out a broken laugh.
Damn it, he loved Adam.
Somehow, somewhere, he didn’t know when it happened but he truly loved him. He would readily die for him again and again.
He missed him.
Achingly.
He had made him a promise.
One he needed to keep.
No one will touch you when I’m here… I’ll always come find you… You’re safe with me… I got you…
The teen had made numerous promises to the little boy who had the audacity to rob him, stalk him and burrow into his weary heart and make a permanent place for himself there.
Eren stared at his hands. He would carry Halil and Ramzi and all the others over his shoulders until the end of his days. There was no absolving him of his sins but he had made a promise (to protect).
Ymir appeared in a flash, eyes bright and otherworldly.
“Have you decided?” She looked off to the skies and her expression grew pinched. “You don’t have much time left I’m afraid. So…” She turned to him. “What will it be?”
What will it be, Eren Yeager?
Life or Death?
Eternal rest or an uncertain future?
A definite end or a leap of faith?
If I can’t believe in myself… I can believe in those around me…
Eren stood up on shaky legs and he winced. His body was truly getting weaker. He wondered what was happening to him on the outside. He recalled figments. Men in white coats and the familiar face of a wiry man, sneering at him hatefully, nose crooked and uneven.
Eren’s eyes widened in recognition. It was the same group of men he encountered upon opening his eyes in the new world. His heart beat rapidly at the thought. He was in danger. He was truly running out of time. He felt his body growing weaker and weaker with each passing moment.
Ymir repeated her question. “What will it be, Eren Yeager?”
The teen opened his mouth and sealed his fate.
First there was Darkness and Death.
"I don't know what happens after I die…”
Silence.
“Mikasa, I’ve always hated you.”
Faint noises.
"Usurper...Eren Yeager. Do you have… any last words?”
Chaotic dissonance.
"If you want to try and stop me... then try to stop me from ever taking another breath.”
Innumerable Sounds.
“Armin, I don't want to die... I want to be with Mikasa...I want to be with everyone...”
Pure agony.
“You are all free."
And then there was Light and Rebirth.
END OF PART 1