It intrigued Damian how humans always centred their lives around certain goals, and strived for certain moments. And when those certain moments would pass, they would find new ones. Always working towards something rather than just...being.

They constantly moved forwards, straining to better themselves and all around them. Yet all they managed to do was draw their world and the very souls residing within them in to disrepair. Gluttony, Sloth, Lust, Greed, Wrath, Envy...Pride. The vices of humanity. 

A human alone was an intellectually advanced being capable of reason and artful creation. Humanity lacked rationality and morality, driven by the carnal desires of accumulation, power and sex.

It was disgusting.

Damian sneered down at the bright lights below him, teeth almost bared in a snarl. Gotham's streets positvly reeked of humanity. An assulting concoction of cheap wine and cheap sex in cheap clubs with cheap harlots. He snorted in contempt. Of course, the rich were no better. It was the same story at either ends of the spectrum.

Thousands of years ago, humanity was worth more than that. It still had retained some of the decorum of the ancient powers of gods and monsters. No more were those times. Humanity had forgotten the monsters lurking in the dark. Humanity brushed of the monster under the bed. Humanity had grown oblivious.

How would they react if they remembered once more? How would they react if they realised that it might be worth a second check when the child says they see something? When the little one saw a shadow in the corner that shouldn't be there. Or felt a thing brush past. 

Funnily enough, those big red eyes staring at them from the bushes, enticing them to step nearer, were very much real. Very much alive.

Children had the curse -not the gift, but the curse- of sight. The other couldn't hide from them. Then again, they just used it in their advantage. Whispering in to the ears of the poor young things. Making them shake in their little boots. Granting them gloriously horiffic nightmares that stayed after morning came. 

It was hilariously pitiful how humanity thought it knew everything now that 'aliens' had been revealed. They knew nothing! A wraith could be on the verge of devouring their souls and they'd be none the wiser. It made the lives of the other exceedingly simple: laughably so.

Damian chuckled with a sardonic air, absently trailing a finger over the blade of his sword. It came back with a perfect line tinged with red marring the once unharmed skin. A rivulet of crimson liquid began seeping from the laceration, a drop falling on to Robin's bent knee. Crouched down low, he lifted his hand up, observing the drops with a morbid fascination before quenching the flow of blood by putting the finger to his mouth.

Looking back at the digit, Damian's lips curled upwards as his skin began mending itself seamlessly. Basking in the filthy, sin-ridden glow of Gotham's midnight, his eyes flashed for a moment. Ignoring that sharp pain that shot through his abdomen, Robin stood up to face the footprints that had sounded.

Masked jade eyes flashed- with recognition, unlike the last time. 

"Batman.", he acknowledged, a hand curled about the handle of his sword, resting.

The Dark Night greeted him curtly, "Robin."

He stood for a few moments, stoic and unreadable. Far too dramatic for Damian's current state. 

Coolly raising an eyebrow, Robin asked, "Was there something you needed?" 

Patience waning, he allowed the sheath of his katana to slip open, lifting the sword so that's its blade was partially revealed. The fingers of his right hand stroked along the edge of the sword, soothingly. A strange habit he had acquired some point along the road, though nonetheless effective in calming his inner turmoil.

Eyebrow still poised, Robin accepted his father's proposal with an open ear, growing more curious by the second.

"Ex league members? Probably common soldiers. It wouldn't be anyone too important.", was his response to Batman's explanation as to why he was there.

"How can you be sure?"

Batman's stance radiated authority, one of lesser steel would have balked at his presence. Damian most certainly wouldn't, instead, choosing to lean upon a nearby railing, deftly spinning a shuriken.

Scoffing, Robin shot his father an unreadably look, "All high ranking leaguers are of a demonic lineage, tainted though some might be. It is impossible that they would be able to stay in this area with the demon presence it holds."

"Demonic presence?", Batman said, demanding further clarification.

"Of course.". Damian scoffed once more, "I don't know if it has occurred to you yet, but you are housing demonic royalty: a full blood demon-prince; the would-be Queen of Hell; and a half-blood descendant with the purest bloodline since the dark ages. It's a marvel the children of the night still dare to breathe in this city.", he added- more to himself than as an afterthought. 

"Besides, in all likelihood, those high ranking ex-assassins are the ones who attacked in Trigon's realm."

Thoroughly perplexed, Batman folded his arms. Safe to say, he was not pleased with the tone Damian had used (though that was the least of his issues at the moment). This matter would have to be looked further into. However first and foremost, he had to discover who these 'assassins' were.

Not sparing Damian a word, Batman took of in a blur of shadows, leaping from the rooftop. Robin rolled his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose. Why couldn't he just scrap the whole 'I am the night. I am justice.' routine and stop being so dramatic?

But of course, Damian threw himself off of the roof too, swinging on his grappling hook,  following the Batman just like all the Robins before him.

***

Damian lashed out at the pathetic excuse of an assassin before him, hook kicking the man in the jaw. Taking grim satisfaction in the crunch he heard, Robin watched the man crumble on to the floor, nocked out.

He turned around to face Batman, only to find him contacting the GCPD to pick up the miscreants. True to his honour, Batman hadn't killed any of the men. Damian had done the same. The results of his past actions still weighed to heavily of the Boy Wonder for him to even consider disregarding the 'no killing' rule.

Robin paced about the room, scrunching his nose in distaste. Objects were strewed haphazardly over moth-eaten furniture and shreds of faded paper hung off of the walls in a precarious manner. It held a pungent odour of decay and- what?!

It assailed his senses. Salty. Metallic. Smooth. Where was it coming from?

Wide eyes hunted every inch of the room, paying the man in a black, armoured suit no notice, until he saw the red. It spilled out of an unconscious man, leaking from the side of his mouth . 

Teasing.

Just like the vein beating vigorously in the man's neck. And in the other fallen men. And in the masked vigilante still speaking over the phone. Steady pulses beating and beating and beating.

Dun-dun. Dun-dun.

Pounding in Damian's head. So loud. Too loud.

He crouched down, hands threaded through his hair. Gums and stomach aching, he could barely control the urge to give in. To let it take charge.

But he couldn't. He wouldn't. It would demolish years of hard work building his image: years of building walls dividing what he wanted to be from what he couldn't spend his life running from.

Finding the strength within himself, Damian slammed his walls back in to place. Knowing that it was likely that, if he were to smell that again, his walls could crumble down, Robin fled the scene. Ignoring the cuts on his arm from where it had scraped against the already shattered window, the titan made his way back towards the Manor.

He sprinted across rooftops, displaying more agility than usual, if that were even possible. Within a few minutes, Damian caught sight of the ominous manor gates, appearing much like pitchforks rearing to drive through his chest. 

What a picture. He found it in himself to smirk, changing his course to the many acres of land around the manor: all belonged to the Wayne family, so no issue resided therein. Not that he would have given a shit even if he wasn't allowed to enter.

Soon, Damian was surrounded by thickets, trees and brambles. Closed off from the glare of bright city lights. Leaning against a grand evergreen, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Shutting his eyes tight, Damian unwound his muscles, sinking to the floor. Resting his head back, he stretched his legs out in front of him. Arms weighed by fatigue, Damian removed his katana from it's sheath and reviewed the blade, contemplating. 

It reflected a dishevelled vigilante, jet black locks mussed and thick lashes bordering jade irises, daring to venture in to amber. His image was one of harsh lines, befitting of his harsh persona: defines cheekbones, nose and jawline. If he wasn't striking terror in the eyes of  those around, the Robin would be found striking. A weak, bitter chuckle escaped his lips, shaking his shoulders. 

Damian's fingers continued their path along the side of his katana.

***

Bruce sighed wearily, dragging a hand down his face. Still in his Batman suit (but having removed the mask) the head of the Wayne household sat down, slouching in to his 'Batman chair'. Facing the numerous screens before him, Bruce couldn't be more uninterested.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Batman took long, deep breaths to work the stress off- a method which failed to work as well as he had hoped.

What did I do to deserve kids like this?

***

Raven had noted Damian's absence. It was like a fly constantly buzzing around, waiting to be swatted. It drove her absolutely mad.

Once the grandfather clock in the corridor sounded two-thirty, Raven knew she had to go searching for her irritable comrade. Stepping outside of the Manor, Raven allowed her senses to flow free, shutting her eyes and inhaling deeply.

Tendrils of her magic spread through the air like food colouring in water, reaching far and wide. She felt the plain, calm essences of the humans inside, placid as a rock pool; then there were the non-humans (and Jason) each one a different...flavour, for want of better term: Kori and her unborn child, warm, like a safety flame ; Jaime's scarab, harsh and cold as ice; Jonathan brought a gust of cool air- a summer breeze-; Donna was of ancient powers, like the dust lining old scrolls, yet sharp as lightening; Jason carried the barest hint of heat in his essence; but Adyn was a scorching inferno, blazing with the fury of Hell only a full-blood demon could carry. Yet Raven looked beyond the manor, brushing aside the minute life forces of animals in hibernation, until she finally felt it.

Damian's life-force was an anomaly. Cool though it was on the surface, beneath was an ungodly sea of smoke battling something akin to fresh rainfall. It fought between searing and chilling, neither taking a full hold over the other.

Having located his whereabouts -in the forest for some unapparent reason- Raven flung her eyes open, batting at the carmine till it revealed amethyst. Eyes focused, she set off.

A.N 

Hello my darlings, how are you?! I know, I know, you probably have lots of questions about what the hell is going on but...hehehehe, I love putting you all in suspense! 

Anywhooooo...I don't really have much else to say for once, just put any questions you have in the comments below and be sure to keep voting and reading! 

Thanks :3

-Bats