One day later

Gotham was clear this night. Low clouds hung across the city like a blanket, though the streets were free of fog and the precipitation that often accompanied the dark clouds. The street lights were a sharp orange, reflecting off the wet ground courtesy of the afternoon rain that had cleared out. Although new clouds rolled in, they merely threatened a downpour, the wet scent of rain fresh in the air. Just after midnight the criminals of Gotham crawled about like rats, sniffing around for weak prey to make a few bucks on.

A long white commercial truck crashed through a puddle, bouncing out of the pothole, rocking on its axel and creaking as the rest of the truck settled. The dark tinted windows hid the driver from view, the silhouette of a human head shifted from side to side, looking for its destination.

The truck pulled into a large alley right next to a skate park, the headlights of the vehicle washing over the scene in a accusatory beam of light. There was a gleam from the shadows as a small motorcycle became visible for a moment before the light was swept away. The tires crunched across some loose gravel and grime that was ever-present in the rotting city of Gotham. The headlights turned off as the car stalled, though the engine stayed on.

There was a moment of quietness before the passenger side of the truck opened, a gruff looking man in heavy clothing stepped out carrying a long gun. His free hand went back to shut the door, a loud echo sounding around in the dark alley. His coat was thick and brown, a dirty red bandana bunched around his neck. His sun-darkened skin was wrinkled on his forehead, a fuzzy patch of blonde hair adorning his head. The man's beady eyes shifted from shadow to shadow, lifting the gun to a more usable position with his second hand on top, ready for anything.

The man gave a subtle nod to the driver in the vehicle he had moments before exited, soon after there was a sound of clunking metal. At the back of the truck the latch was lifted and the door lifted up in a smooth motion, less sound but not quiet.

More men poured out, all carrying their own guns and a jacket-like article of clothing. They came in varying sizes and shapes, crime has no limits nor expectations, except a desire to commit. One was a young man, blonde hair and blue eyed, wearing a snarky grin and much too excited about the drug deal he was apart of.

The men drifted over to the man awaiting their congregation. The man with the red bandana nodding to some men and pointed to others, clearly giving out near-silent orders. The men cleared out, each casually shifting into position, eyes adrift for the cops, or worse, Batman.

What they got was a little smaller, and much less righteous.

A dark figure slid silently onto the roof of the vehicle, going slow and smooth to avoid detection, his own smirk unable to be schooled into a professional look. The figure watched the men gather and disperse, noting points that would be safe if they opened fire, and points he could drop in and take care of any unnecessary complications.

The lanky form jumped lightly down onto the hood of the drivers side of the car, amused he was not yet found as his dark suit was stark against the white van and he had purposefully made noise in his last jump. He laid his hands on his hips and shook his head with distaste, tutting loudly as to finally catch the attention of the lead man.

The man looked up at the noise and instinctually rose his gun as well, ready to fire, the only thing that stopped him was the half orange and black mask.

"Not bad... I've seen better." Renegade said from his perch. The acrobat flipped down over the front of the vehicle, landing solidly and stepping forwards to the man who hesitantly lowered his gun.

The man looked disgruntled, brown eyes wanting to search his surroundings for the bigger threat but knowing this boy was not much less a threat. "Where's your boss?" He asked, shifting his gun in hand.

Renegade tilted his head in thought. "Deathstroke? He won't be joining us tonight. Rest assured if something does happen I'll be sure to do just as well." He gave the man a winning smile but was met with an angry grunt.

"Not here? Why not? Black Mask hired Deathstroke, not his brat." He said. The man's already wrinkled forehead creased more as he frowned, the sour look not even remotely intimidating to the young mercenary.

Renegade sauntered over and threw an arm around the man's shoulder. "The thing is buddy, we're a package deal, a buy one get one free kinda deal." Renegade grinned as the man under him shifted with unease. The mercenary patted the man's chest with his free hand, flashing a toothy smile. "Don't worry your pretty little bandana, I wouldn't be here if Deathstroke didn't think I was capable."

The boy let the man go and cackled as he backfliped up onto the van again, crouching as he planned to leap for his next perch. A voice caught his attention.

"Hey wait! Deathstroke sent you?"

Renegade found himself looking down at a blond haired young man, probably only a few years older than himself. If this kid kept yelling he'd blow their cover, and Renegade thought he was working with professionals.

"What's it to you?" Renegade responded rather rudely. He liked talking with the people he 'worked' with, he didn't have many other people to talk to. Besides, he loved seeing them uncomfortable, tripping them up was half the fun!

"How's a kid like you supposed to be as good as Deathstroke? I don't plan on being six feet under any time soon, and sending an amateur is only going to cause problems for us and our boss." The older boy said with a scowl, accusatorially raising his voice and sweeping an arm out to gesture to the other goons.

Renegade narrowed his eyes. Was he serious? Was he seriously attempting -and failing- to threaten him? Renegade resisted the urge to laugh, and adopted a scowl instead. There was always this issue. Those meat-heads never accepted his skills, nor his mentors decisions and ability to teach. He found an enjoyable way to solve this issue -enjoyable for Renegade at least.

The acrobat straightened, choosing his next words specifically and deepening his voice to add to the morbidity of his next statement. "Bold of you to assume you'd be buried."

Renegade walked slowly along the edge of the van, hands behind his back in a stiff walk, lifting his eyes from below to further imitate a formal march. "I've found that in Gotham, no one does their job right unless they're at gunpoint." Renegade couldn't help the grin on his face as he stopped at the end of the truck. He spun on his heel and slammed his feet together with his back completely straight, looking down at the goons with his utterly cold smirk. "If Black Mask wants a job done he must also send someone to hold the gun. I must say, I rather like holding the gun."

Renegade released his stance, schooling his face into passiveness as he let his hands free from behind himself, lifting a small gun from a hidden holster. He let the gun go down, sticking its barrel down into the mass of goons, a solid aim for the young man who spoke against him.

The group of hired men took a step back, the young man being threatened gulped dryly as he came to the internal conclusion that he shouldn't have decided to test the fully capable young mercenary.

Suddenly the older man with the bandana stood in front of the young man. "You don't want to shoot him." He said slowly, an edge of fear along his voice.

Renegade looked down mercilessly. "At this range I could just as easily shoot him through you." His arm extended more, clicking the safety off.

Renegade stared, watching the two men squirm just barely, a little foot shift here, and arm arching back there, chests rising in falling quicker in panic. It was nice to see he still got the same reaction when he pulled a gun on someone, making them do amusing things, it was fulfilling in Renegades mind. It wasn't fun until someone squirmed, not in a torturous, psychopathic way, no. He was a troller, misdirection and lies were his trade, its only worth it for the satisfying reaction.

The mercenaries piercing gaze never wavered as the men's fear grew, sweat beginning to trickle down foreheads and Addams apples bobbing as they swallowed.

Renegade lifted the gun, releasing the two men from their life-threatening position. The old man deflated with a stressed sigh, though the young mercenary wasn't done yet. Ren shrugged with a lazy tilt of the gun, grip still dangerously sharp on the trigger. "But you're right, killing the weak one only tells you I'm stronger than your weakest player." A smile crawled up onto Renegades face, his free hand moving to his belt. "But if I kill your strongest... well, then you know I mean business."

The mercenary crouched and spun, throwing his arm out to send a bladed disk around the goons like a boomerang. As the disk traveled, it sliced at the two men the acrobat had previously held hostage, cutting their cheeks respectively before imbedding itself into the truck side, slightly rocking the vehicle on which Renegade crouched.

He observed the group flinch collectively, his eyebrows went up as his eyes remained half lidded, clearly unamused. "And you call me the amateur? Alright, I get it, I'm not the best of the best -yet-, but did you really think I'd compromise our position by using a gun?" Renegade slumped down into a sitting position on the rim of the vehicle, letting his feet dangle as he rolled his eyes, seeing the goons below him look up confusingly. The acrobat leaned forwards with a smug grin. "Lesson one; Bats are attracted to gunfire. Got it?"

He got a few grumbles in response, a few men straightening their jackets and casting their eyes about to check their surroundings, either embarrassed they were scared of a child or checking for any lurking bats.

Renegade smirked, ah the power that came with being deadly. It was actually a secondary motive for his drive to become a mercenary, a second motive Deathstroke helped create. But the first and most important one Renegade made all on his own, Deathstroke just helped him achieve his goal.

Deathstroke saved him really, small Richard Grayson would have died that night, alone in the cold gutters of Gotham's alleys. Renegade liked to think he did though, unfortunately he woke up each day with the same identity he had since he was born. There was some pride he felt though, for getting this far. Richard Grayson lost it all, Renegade gave him something to fight for. Life gave him lemons and all Slade said was that throwing them at the lemonade stand was an option. Dick rather liked throwing lemons, especially when it caught so many people off guard.

Renegade blinked back into reality, he found that not much time had passed in his mini-daydream, he looked down to see the bandana man looking up at him. Renegade gave him a small smile. "If you need me, you won't find me. I'll be watching and if I need to intervene, I will."

He rolled backwards into a handstand, then arched his back (again backwards) till his feet hit the ground (aka the roof of the van) behind him. He straightened and quickly jumped off, seemingly vanishing into the shadows of the buildings behind the van.

Renegade stalked along the lip of the building he landed on, it wasn't a proper roof but more of an outcrop, a shelf maybe. He forced himself to sit still, though he'd been doing so for the past two hours, but it was necessary. Slade always taught him that good hiding meant becoming invisible when someone is looking straight at him. Achieving that is just a matter of blending into the surroundings, if he wanted to be invisible he had to become part of the scenery, to be already dubbed safe and no more needed to be watched. It's only when the scenery moves that attention is pulled and the illusion is lost. The sheer dramatics made his blood boil with adrenaline, he loved being so close to danger, made him feel alive.

He remained stationary on the outcrop, he'd been sitting here for some time, waiting for the white truck that was Black Masks (until it showed up two minuets ago), filled with the drugs he was selling to Two-Face. Of course neither man would actually show, it wasn't a small deal, but wasn't big enough for physical appearances from the two mob bosses.

Deathstroke being present would have made this much more fun, then he'd have someone to talk to and tease. He was alone all day while his mentor did other things, their only interaction was training, the occasional meal, and missions. The only reason the older mercenary wasn't here now was because he was called off to a meeting for one of his bigger and more important employers. The Light was definitely more important than some drug deal, and Renegade was fully capable of taking care of it on his own. But still, a little company would have been nice.

The young mercenary sighed through his nose, sitting around and doing nothing was making him tired, when was Two-Face gunna get here? He watched the alley below with glazed eyes, routinely checking Black Masks men's positions to make sure they were all accounted for, no funny business on Renegades watch.

So far the night was clear, not much fog though it was a little wet, the low clouds as condemning as ever. Perhaps even condescending. But it was also clear in the sense of danger, no Bats and no cops, so far at least. Their trading partner was still absent, so It was much too early to tell if anything would go right. Hmm, maybe Two-Face decided to back out without telling Black Mask, now that's just mean. Even in this crime ridden city the crime was organized and had rules, it's not some crazy town. Leave that for the Joker and his psychotic buddies, they live with their own type of rules, rules that were not Renegades.

Renegade perked when he heard a second car engine, a slick black car pulling into the alley on the other side. He shifted his footing to both get a better view and to keep his foot from falling asleep. He lifted his arm, his holo screen coming to life in front of him. The acrobat would have been alarmed by its bright light but he had stationed himself in front of a lit window, his light would be masked by the other behind him. Besides, no one was looking up, hardly anyone ever did.

He peered down below, watching the black car slide to a stop, headlights still on while Black Mask's men shifted to surround the vehicle in a semicircle. Nicely dressed men exited the car, moving forward to meet with the other factions goons, displaying their own arms. Renegade was too far away to hear what the men were saying but he got the gist with the old reliable 'you got the (insert either money or drugs)' spiel. He didn't particularly care what they were speaking about, but usually Deathstroke would have him monitor the conversation anyway for any verbal cues to check to make sure claims were valid and such. But Renegade had been doing this enough to know when there would be issues and what would cause them and usually how it would turn out. With him walking away with the money.

Renegade's eyes drooped as he put the hologlove away, this was seriously underwhelming. Goons talking, eyes shifting, normal drug deal stuff. He refocused when Two-Face's men went to the back of the black car, pulling out a case. The men were followed by Black Mask's, and together both parties went to the white van, each side eyeing the other for any not-so-funny funny business.

The dark figure watched silently, sensing a new tension underneath the normal tension that came with drug deals. They were shifting too much, looking around too often, if Renegade had super hearing he would have heard their accelerated heart beats. Something was happening, and it irked Renegade that he didn't know what.

If he had thermal vision he would have found there was one too many bodies in the ally.

The sound of gunfire shattered the air. Echoing around like a sonic blast, such was the quietness that was before the gunfire.

Renegade stiffened. He knew what was happening now.

His attention was pulled as there was a roar of a motorcycle, the gunfire going silent for a moment before lashing out again. Men dove for cover and returned fire, a few goons already down and out. Both sides were confused as to whom was firing on them and decided it must have been the opposing side.

Renegade muttered under his breath as he watched the gangs turn on eachother. "Stupid goons, someone else is interfering." He slipped down and raced silently across the outcrop, dipping down into the shadows behind the black car. He ignored the gunfight for now, he had more pressing matters to attend to. Like how the briefcase Two-Faces's man had was a fake, and the real one was inside a hidden compartment in the car. That's what the hologlove scan showed him, classic, and easily fixed.

He drew a sword silently, keeping tabs on where the gunfire was being pointed at. He slid up to the vehicle, crouching and using the vehicle as a buffer between him and the fight. He lifted his hand to his belt as he leaned up to see through the windows, he grabbed four black bead-like objects, he knelt down again and shoved one into the treads of the nearest wheel. Renegade delivered three more to the other wheels, no one noticed him, as if he wasn't even there.

The mercenary went to the back of the vehicle, attempted to lift the truck lid only to find resistance. Renegade put the tip of his sword into the gap and sliced, the trunk popping open as the latch was cut. Ren kept the lid from going up to far and put on his night vision as there was no lights in the trunk and he was in thick shadows. He moved a few more briefcases out of the way (they were empty according to his hologlove) and found the hidden latch, only to see a keyhole.

This was unexpected, a keyhole? usually it was a bit more high-tech, a handprint or maybe a lock number. Well of course he brought his lockpick tools, but when he looked up he found that his nightvision gave him a clear view of the assailant of the two gangs.

It was a single man on a motorcycle, clearly Renegade wasn't the only one who thought the skate park was good cover because the man was hidden behind a half-pipe. He wore a brownish jacket over a gray shirt and military pants that had lots of full pockets. He had two holsters slung around his chest and both hands held the guns that belonged to the empty holsters. His face was obscured, covered actually, by a helmet.

Renegade narrowed his eyes, this was the guy messing up Black Masks deals.

The mercenary gently closed the trunk, not forgetting but moving the money to second on the to-do list, this guy took first priority. He would get a reward if he found out who this man was, an even better one if he killed him. But first he would study him, then decide if he should be eliminated.

First and foremost, the man was killing Black Mask's goons, this was a no-can-do, Renegade could solve that, give the man something to shoot at that was much harder to hit.

Renegade jumped up onto the vehicle, running across the roof and flipping up to a nearby building, keeping his sights set on the man who hid comfortably and shot leisurely into the battle. He dashed across the lip of the building, running on the edges of windows until he ran alongside the white van. He jumped down onto the van and leaped off the edge, flipping a few times in mid-air and unsheathed his second blade.

He landed in a roll, running straight from the ground to the man in the hood, the hood that he could now tell was red. The man did not expect his sudden appearance and his aim was shifted to the quickly approaching mercenary. Renegade only smirked.

Flashes of light in the shadows signaled the gun being fired before the sound was made, Renegade lifted a blade and the bullet ricocheted off into the wet cobblestone road. A few more rounds were fired off and Renegade easily diverted the bullets paths. The mercenary ran to the side and up the gate, flipping over and rolling to be covered by a different half-pipe. The gunfire stopped for a moment when a vehicle crashed into the gate Renegade had previously jumped. The metal squealed as it was crunched by the car, glass shattering. The vehicle was propped up, a body limp in the drivers seat was visible at this angle.

The young mercenary backed away, confused by the sudden intrusion by the vehicle. Sure Black Mask had brought other vehicles but they were all stationed around the block, not in the middle of the gunfight. A roar of a different engine caught his attention, the broken vehicle shuddered and crashed back down to reveal a dark plated tank-like vehicle.

The Batmobile.

Renegade cursed under his breath. Things just got slightly more complicated.

Ren jumped out of his paused state to run across the dangerously open path to get behind the hooded man, finding the motorcycle empty.

"You're just a kid." A voice stated bluntly above him.

Renegade rolled to the side on instinct, finding the spot he had been in moments before peppered with bullets. He leaped up onto the halfpipe the man crouched on, both still for a moment, neither one making any threatening moves.

"I'm not just a kid." Renegade hissed like he was offended, but internally he was loving it. Deceit and illusions, an endless web of lies spun till no escape. This man was about to meet a master of deception, Renegade could be anyone when he met someone new, it was refreshing.

The hooded man tilted his gun in a passive manner, considering he had moments ago tried to kill him. "Sure, and this isn't a forty-five caliber gun." He punctuated his sentence with pulling the trigger, Renegade lifted his blade to block but the 'tink tink tink' of the empty gun made him smirk.

"Jeez, in that case I might just have to flee, because I'm totally screwed now." Renegade laughed, a laugh that made his eyes squint and add an odd light into the air, putting the man on edge. Renegade lunged, still laughing.

The man took a few steps backwards, blocking Renegade's swipes with his gun. Renegade was relentless and no longer laughing, he swung and leaped and lunged, the man got nicked a few times but it was all intentional. He didn't want to sever the man's arm, just give him something to remember him by. Renegade studied his opponent as they fought, the man drew a big knife from behind his back and started slashing back. It was a pitiful attempt in Renegades opinion, but to anyone watching it looked like two professionals. This man was good, exceptional reflexes, martial arts leaked into his blocking. His agility was minimal and he was a rather big man, although it wasn't like this fight had much acrobatics in it, and if it did, Renegade would be much much more advanced in that regard.

Renegade was simply playing with him, letting him recover from harder blows and lightening his attacks that would have incapacitated the man. The hooded man seemed to realize this, the white of his masked eyes narrowing as he continued to step back.

"Skills like that must have a name." The man grunted, lifting his blade to defend another blow to his face.

"A helmet like that must have a story." Renegade retorted, staying his katana in a fake blow and slicing the man's leg with the other. "Hiding something ugly?" The man grunted with pain and took a retreating step backwards.

Renegade didn't need the helmet to be off to know the man was scowling. "Red Hood kid, your turn."

The young mercenary took a step back and adopted a casual stance contradictory to their fight, Red Hood was caught off guard by the sudden stop but was able to keep his blade up. Renegade brushed some of his ebony hair out of his eyes, smiling and flaring his fingers to gesture at his face. "What? You don't recognize the color scheme?"

"No, that I recognize, I didn't know Deathstroke got a brat." Red Hood said gruffly. Renegade noticed he was slightly out of breath but was recovering quickly, a little too quickly if he was being honest.

Renegade pointed to himself proudly"The names Renegade, I don't think I have to tell you to not trust me right?"

"Sure, kid." Red Hood took a moment to flip out one of his guns, but it was no threat considering it was empty.

Renegade flipped to the side, dodging a batarang aimed for his back, having seen Batman exit the Batmobile earlier and knew he would eventually come confront him. The young mercenary slid up next to Red Hood, jumping up onto a rail to watch Red Hood reload and the advancing Bat.

"So why are you so intent on disrupting Black Masks deals?" Renegade asked with a simple tilt of his head.

Red Hood didn't look up, but realized he had bigger issues than Deathstroke's apprentice and as long as the kid wasn't actively trying to kill him he would address the factors that were. "What's it to you kid? Mob bosses come and go, Black Mask is old news."

"You want to climb the ranks, and you're taking it by force." Renegade deduced, rising an eyebrow and seeing the man in new light. "Impressive, not only have you got a bat on your tail but other villains too, gotta give you props for getting on everyone's nerves simultaneously."

"Everyone's got enemies kid." Red Hood stated, clicking his gun into place, finally all loaded and just in time.

He fired at Batman, who dodged swiftly. Renegade took that as his que to kill two birds with one stone, stay away from Bats and find the guy with the key to the trunk, he still had a mission to fulfill.

He dashed around back, sheathing his swords so further his mobility, running across obstacles meant for skateboards with a grin on his face. He heard grunting from Batman and Red Hood, he honestly wanted to watch but he had more important things to worry about. Some of the goons were still firing on each other, some were knocked out by Batman, others had blood pooling around their bodies. Renegade was actually delighted to see Black Mask's men had mostly survived, Bandana Man was using the white van for cover as he shot into the fray.

Renegade was just about to clear the skate park and enter the warzone when he felt his legs tangle in something. He looked down and scowled, Batman had shot his grappling hook at him, that wire was almost impossible to cut. Renegade was too late to cut the wire, but was able to stop himself from hitting the ground face first.

He felt his legs being tugged by the wire, dragged back into the skatepark, Renegade grunted and flipped onto his stomach, lifting himself with his arms. Suddenly the line went slack though his legs were still firmly together, he did a handstand and scissored his legs to open the rope. He heard close gunfire and felt sparks fly off the ground at his hands, he twisted into a cartwheel and flung himself into one of the ravines for cover.

He landed roughtly on his side and slid down the cement, the wind knocked out of him and his head a spinning. He quickly regained his feet and pressed his back to the angled cement, this was not the best cover, but it was protecting him for now.

He grew uneasy as Batman dropped down into the gully with him.

Batman noticed him but didn't come at him, deciding -as Renegade had done- that the need for cover was greater than the threat of the opposing fighter. Renegade watched the vigilante obtain the same position Renegade was sporting, although one hand was fiddling with his yellow-tinted belt, bringing out what was probably smoke bombs.

Batman was watching him though, it was creeping Renegade out but he managed not to show it. He returned Batmans scowlish resting face with his own glare, being reminded of his own scowling mentor for multiple reasons. One, Slade had told him to stay away from Batman. Two, Batman was right next to him. Three, scowls were not unfamiliar.

Renegade remembered Slade saying if he was ever with Batman alone to stay out of a fight, and just in general stay away from the man. Renegade hoped his nerves didn't show. Fighting Batman was a lot more comfortable when he had a Deathstroke to back him up. Renegade was tempted to hit the emergency button on his belt but refrained, Batman wasn't being a threat right now, but that could quickly change.

"Renegade." Batman said, his voice as growly as Renegade remembered it. "Though our last encounter was brief, I seem to remember Deathstroke was there."

Renegade let his face turn dark, Batman wanted to know where Deathstroke was, but if he told him he wasn't here that would let Batman know he was considerably more vulnerable. He swallowed his suddenly dry mouth and answered curtly. "I wouldn't be here if Deathstroke didn't think I was capable."

"So you're alone?"

Renegade hesitated before he hissed through his teeth. "Yes."

"Deathstroke trusts you then, how long has that been going on?" Batman asked, shifting his head to peer over the edge to see if Red Hood had let up the barrage or not. Judging by the fact Batman slid down again Renegade figured not.

"I don't have to tell you anything." In fact he'd been ordered to not tell Batman anything.

Batman locked eyes with Renegade, dialing up his bat-glare. "You've been trained by a murderer. I don't think you have seen all the consequences that come with that life."

"It takes one to make one don't it? And I know perfectly well what I'm in, Deathstroke didn't raise an idiot." Renegade replied, folding his arms childishly, also to hide how nervous he actually was. He felt in danger, like at any moment something bad could happen, something he couldn't fight and win.

"You've killed?"

"I'll let you find that one out." Renegade smirked, hearing the gunfire die out.

Red Hood flipped into view, both guns trained on each fighter, Renegade watched both guns fire in slow motion, the flash and the bullet exiting, heading straight for him.

Renegade reached back for his blade but knew it would be too late, he'd get hit, so he began to shift to make the bullet hit somewhere else besides his heart. Which became unnecessary as the dark from of Batman blocked his view, and probably the bullet. Renegade ran up Batman's back, throwing a disk at Red Hood and used the vigilante's shoulder to backflip up and out of the gully. He didn't wait to find out if Batman was alright or if his disk had hit its target, he just knew he had to get out of there away from Batman and hope he could still finish the mission.

Batman was probably fine, he was met with gunfire all the time, he has the suit deal with the bullets. But why did Renegade care?

He bolted out of the skate park, arms pumping at his sides and chest heaving with large breaths, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to get that close to Batman ever again. At least, not without Deathstroke. He didn't know what it was about Batman, but it just put him on edge, he should have been consoled by the fact every bad guy was scared of Batman, but it just annoyed him.

As Renegade got closer to the gunfight that was still going on he drew a single blade. He blocked bullets as he ran across the warzone, drawing the second one as he got closer to Two-Face's men, searching for one in particular.

He found him using a storefront as cover, Renegade quickly slashed the man's throat and once the man was down he patted the mans pockets. He found the key in the inner left pocket of the dead man's fancy jacket, a dumb outfit for a mobster to die in in his opinion. Renegade paused when he realized he was not alone in the store, he looked up to see a kid on the stairs, obviously woken by the crazy gunfight happening there. Wide, innocent eyes took in the bloodied sword and the dead man.

Renegade lifted a hand, shifting the katana to have the blade point behind him as he flared three fingers. "You didn't see anything." Renegade grinned and dashed out of the building, not stopping to see the kids reaction.

He stalked along the sidewalk's shadows, the gunfire was getting quieter, less men were alive to fire them. He slid up next to the white van, a few bodies in the open ground across from him, he peeked in to find only Bandana was inside the van besides the crates of drugs.

"Psst. Bandana, don't shoot. I'm friendly. Sorta." Renegade whispered, trying to get the man's attention without receiving a bullet in his head.

Bandana spun around and aimed but didn't shoot. "Oh, just you." He sounded somewhat relieved, but the relief was brief and he was quickly on alert again. "What's the plan now?"

"You're asking me?" Renegade said, hoisting himself up into the van. He gave the gruff man a smile. "But yeah, I do have a plan."

"I'd be glad to hear it." Bandana said, not at all looking glad but taking the moment to reload his gun.

"Well it includes driving the van, can you handle that?"

"Sure." He shrugged, wondering if this plan included coming out alive.

"You drive, I'll take care of everything else." Renegade pointed a thumb at himself.

Bandana looked a bit weary when he said that but he digressed. "Where to?"

"Doesn't matter, just keep driving and don't corner us."

"Gotcha." Bandana nodded, fiddling with the gun.

Renegade jumped up onto the roof of the van while Bandana went down to the drivers side. He opened the door and tossed his gun in, climbing inside and keeping his head low. He took the mic from the dash and spoke into it, a radio to the other cars Black Mask had appointed to this deal. "We're moving out, deal went sour, gunna need backup." He got a few garbled responses and flipped the car into reverse.

Renegade crouched low on the van roof, watching the chaos from above and keeping out of sight. He pulled up his hologlove and selected a few buttons, the small orbs he placed in the tires of the black car detonated. The tires burst but the car remained unharmed, the money wasn't going anywhere.

When the van began to move underneath him a smile rose on his features, everything according to plan.

Red Hood blasted from the skate park, riding his motorcycle after the white van. This made Renegade frown.

The van twisted around and gained speed, Ren turned as well, facing the motorcyclist following them. He caught a vague shape of a bat behind Red Hood, odds were not leaning towards him right now. But that could quickly change.

Two cars swerved into the road behind Red Hood, Black Masks men, windows were rolled down and guns sprouted from inside, the sound of gunfire filling the sky once more. Renegade couldn't wipe the smile off his face, as chaotic and bad as this was he was having the time of his life.

The speed of the van picked up, sending Renegades hair into a frenzy, he continued to watch as Red Hood swerved to avoid the bullets and pulled and arm back to return fire.

A few bullets grazed the car then hit the driver. The car spun out of control and hit a lampost before skidding to a sparking stop. Red Hood fell back behind the other car and sprung forward again, he lifted his front wheel up and rode on top of the car, crushing it with its weight while he dashed forwards into the air. Renegade realized he would land on the white van if the airborne motorcycle continued its current course.

Renegade let Red Hood see his devious smirk as he pulled out a long knife from its sheath in his thigh. He threw the blade, and it lodged in the targeted wheel, making the vehicle lose its momentum. Out of the blue Batman swung around and body slammed Red Hood and the motorcycle. They crashed into a building, breaking bricks and glass, the motorcycle landing on the ground with burning sparks.

Renegade almost laughed, he settled for a chuckle and returned his focus to the road. Right on schedule a black car came screaming towards them, Renegade grabbed a cylindrical stick from the back of his belt.

He stabbed the object into the roof of the van and pressed the button on top. The object began to grow, going up and over Renegades head, a thin sheet of a fabric-like substance following with until Renegade was almost completely covered like a cave. He set his mask to a special setting and he was able to see through the fabric that would have otherwise block his sight.

Two-Face's men in the black car started shooting at him, Renegade calmly let the bullets bounce off the black covering and grabbed his small gun from its holster. He snaked his hand out of the protective cave and fired. The tire Renegade had aimed at blew, the car lurched to the side and ran into a building.

Renegade closed the gap between him and the roof of the van as the vehicle turned, once it straightened out he pushed another button and the tent collapsed back into the cylindrical object. He clipped it back onto his belt and smirked.

Renegade leaned forward, placing a hand gently in front of him while he crouched to keep his balance.

A black car exited an intersection, crashing into the middle of the white van.

The metal of both vehicles crunched like paper. Screeching tires added to the sound of breaking glass. The force of the car twisted the van longways into the intersection, blocking both sides and sending both vehicles careening down the asphalt.

The corner of Renegades lips twitched upwards as they parted to exhale slowly, his chest lowering as muscles relaxed and tightened. Eyes unblinking and alert as the ground under him gave way.

The acrobat lifted his hand to his torso, curling his gloved fingers into a fist as he relaxed the arm still out behind him. He bent his head and angled his body accordingly, twisting so he was parallel to the crash happening below him. 

Renegades crouched form lowered even more as the van began to tumble, lifting off its worn rubber. The black car skidded before twisting into a roll, crashing against the white van once more.

The acrobat lifted off with one foot into a side barrel roll, glass sparkling around him like rain. Renegade pulled his legs close to his chest, keeping an arm out and an arm in. Metal continued to crunch and scrape and bend like dough, screeching as they tumbled and broke, sparks dancing amidst the wreck.

Renegade saw the world go sideways, a lamppost across the street becoming similar to the bar of the trapeze he knew so well. He felt his stomach drop and his diaphram tensed to expel air. He kept his eyes on the lamppost as he twisted in the air, seeing it turn over like a compass as it pointed up and down and sideways as he flipped.

One, two, three, four times the lamppost turned over before he stretched out his legs as the ground became dangerously close. Renegade ducked as he landed, shifting so he continued to roll after his feet touched the ground, rolling over his shoulder and up onto his feet.

He stood still as he watched the vehicles scream away, rolling, tumbling in a never ending song of destruction.

He let his chest move more, realizing he had yet to breathe in. Renegade then smirked, lifting his hand and tossing the keys of the secret compartment into the air, a slight huff of laughter escaping his parted lips. He sauntered away, barely scratched, and having quite the story to tell his mentor. He wondered what Slade would think about the way he handled Batman on his own,

He kept tossing his keys in the air, chuckling more as he pushed a button on his hologlove, standing to await his auto-driven motorcycle. "Yo, ho... Yo, ho... A pirate's life for me." He whispered into the night, an eruption from the crashed cars lighting up his features, sending his shadow dancing across the ground, his figure bathed in an outline of orange.

Death's son was not to be trifled with.

HEY! IM ALIVE! YAY!

This chapter was a bit more violent than others, just wanted you to see Ren in his element, and of course, new characters along the way. Finally getting this party started! Next chapter is gunna be calmer, sorta, there's gunna be a flashback and it has some violence in it. Basically the next chapter is what Slade was doing during this one, so chapter 6 is going to return to normal time.

During my plot planning I have estimated around 20ish chapters, (technically 18 rn but I'm sure I'll have to split some chapters)

Anywho, this chapter is a bit longer, 7276 words. The next might be around the same, if not shorter.

Idk when the next update will be but the wait won't be as long as my other books (gosh I feel terrible, one book I haven't updated in 4 months, but I'm not abandoning)

I wanted to update today cuz it's kinda my birthday so I wanted to treat you guys.

Later peeps!!