SON OF BATMAN

Damian's gaze lingered only briefly on the red-haired young man before moving on, his expression unreadable.

He turned his attention to the blonde figure beside them. But the moment his eyes met Tara's, she tensed and lowered her head as though instinctively avoiding his gaze.

Just then, the main entrance behind them opened with a soft hiss, and a new figure stepped out, her vibrant appearance immediately drawing the group's attention.

She had striking orange skin, emerald-green eyes that glowed with intense warmth, and long, fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders, catching the sunlight in a shimmering cascade. It was Starfire—Kory. She moved with the same grace that Damian remembered from years ago, though now there was a maternal wisdom in her bearing that hadn't been there before. She paused only a few steps from Damian, her expression softening with a look of shared pain and understanding.

"Damian…" she said, her voice a gentle acknowledgment of the loss he carried with him.

"Kory." He gave her a short nod, his expression impassive.

For a moment, Kory hesitated, as if searching for the right words. Then, closing the small distance between them, she wrapped her arms around him in a heartfelt embrace. Her voice was barely a whisper as she said, "I'm so sorry for what happened."

The words settled heavily in the air, each syllable weighted with the gravity of Bruce Wayne's death. The loss of Batman wasn't just Damian's tragedy - it was a wound that cut deep into everyone.

The weight of her words seemed to press down on the entire group. Garfield's usual carefree demeanor faded. His shoulders dropped, and a somber look replaced the curiosity that had filled his gaze moments before. Tara, too, shifted uncomfortably, her expression heavy with a mixture of empathy and guilt. She had been Damian's teammate, and despite their rocky history, the weight of his loss struck a chord with her.

Damian remained still for a beat, then gave a brief, nonchalant response. "Don't worry about it." His tone was calm, his gaze steady, but the subtle tension in his posture hinted at the weight he carried beneath the surface.

After a moment, he gently released himself from the hug and looked directly at her. "I want to see Raven."

Kory's reaction was immediate and telling. Her luminescent green eyes dimmed slightly, a shadow passing across her features. Her face hardened and then softened into a look of hesitation, her green eyes reflecting a hint of something troubled. She didn't say anything, but her silence spoke louder than words. A flicker of concern crossed her features, and she cast a quick glance toward Dick Grayson who was behind Damian.

"Ok. Come with me," she said quietly, her tone gentle but edged with an unspoken gravity. She turned, leading the way back toward the entrance, the group silently following as the atmosphere shifted, thickening with an unvoiced worry.

For years, Raven had carried a burden unlike any other. Born of two worlds, daughter of Arella, a mortal from Earth, and Trigon, a demon. Her soul was a battleground between her mother's humanity and her father's raw, unrelenting darkness. Her father, Trigon, wasn't just powerful, he was a destroyer, a conqueror with powers beyond human comprehension. His reach extended beyond dimensions. 

Raven, carrying both their blood, inherited her father's darkness, and from a young age understood her responsibility to keep it contained. Her childhood had been stolen by this knowledge, replaced with the weight of a destiny she never chose. Her existence was never meant to be simple. Growing up as a child torn between light and darkness, she was destined to wage a lifelong war against the evil buried within her.

When Raven was a child Trigon had attempted to use her as a conduit to invade Earth but her magic was stronger than he realized. Before he could use her she was able to trap him inside a crystal.

But….nothing lasts forever.

In the early days of Damian's time with the Teen Titans, Trigon broke free of his seal, intent on conquering their world. But with the help of the Teen Titans and with immense effort, Raven managed to seal him back again into the crystal. This time, however, she took a final step to ensure his prison would remain intact. She embedded the crystal into her own forehead, carrying Trigon's prison with her at all times. It was an act of profound self-sacrifice, a decision to carry this weight for life, to hold back the threat as long as she could.

For years now, Raven has held Trigon within the crystal, a constant struggle as he continues testing the boundaries of his prison, trying to escape and unleash hell upon the world.

"His power has only been growing, eroding the seal, straining Raven's own strength, and deteriorating her health. She has secluded herself, sealed away, battling against his influence every day, the struggle only getting harder," said Grayson as they moved down a dim corridor.

They stopped at a door at the end of the corridor, unremarkable save for the darkness that seemed to cling to its edges. The air itself felt heavier here, charged with an energy that made the hair on their necks stand on end.

"Since you left, she's been bearing this weight alone." Grayson's voice was quiet as he glanced at Damian.

Kory, standing beside them, cast a worried look at Damian, her face clouded with concern.

Damian stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the door. He could feel an eerie sensation emanating from behind it.

Glancing down, he could see black smoke seeping through the gap under the door twisting like shadows along the floor. The tendrils of darkness seemed almost alive, reaching out like desperate fingers.

He reached for the handle to open the door, ignoring the tension thickening in the air.

Garfield hid behind the red-haired young man beside him, and muttered, "I really wouldn't do that if I were you," his voice carrying a tremor that betrayed his usual bravado.

Damian ignored him and pushed the door open, and a wave of darkness greeted him. The room, or what should have been a room, was entirely engulfed in shadows. It was like staring into the heart of a void, an endless expanse of nothingness that threatened to swallow reality itself. It was as if he had opened the door to an endless dark void, an abyss that absorbed every bit of light, swallowing it whole. The shadows swirling within had a faint, haunting hue, a deep, dark purple that pulsed subtly, alive with an energy that was distinctly Raven's. There was no sign of walls, floor, or ceiling, just an infinite void of dark purple, deep and unyielding.

The darkness at the edges of the doorway was different. It was thicker, like swirling tendrils of smoke. Wisps of dark purple vapor extended toward him, curling like fingers stretching from the depths. These tendrils didn't attempt to escape or spread; they simply hovered there, contained but alive, twisting and turning just beyond the edge of the doorway.

Damian stared, his gaze sharp and unblinking as he took it in, analyzing the shadows with a calculating look. Then he extended his hand. The darkness reacted instantly, tendrils snaking forward and wrapping around his fingers, caressing them almost delicately. The shadows seemed to recognize him, moving with a strange intelligence, intertwining around his hand as if acknowledging his presence.

Behind him, the others watched in tense silence, their expressions unreadable. But Damian didn't look back.

Then without hesitation, he stepped forward. The moment he crossed the threshold, the shadows enveloped him entirely, swallowing his figure in one seamless motion. His body disappeared into the darkness, his form swallowed up in an instant, engulfed entirely by the purple darkness.

"Damian!" Grayson called out, reaching an arm toward him, but he was too late.

The door then swung shut behind him. The sound echoed with a finality that sent chills down their spines. The only trace left behind was the dark purple tendrils, still seeping slowly from under the door, curling and twisting like silent witnesses.

For a moment, the remaining Titans stood in stunned silence, eyes fixed on the now-closed door. A heavy, tense silence hung between them. Grayson lowered his outstretched hand, his gaze lingering on the door, worry etched into his features.

Garfield's usual playful expression was nowhere to be seen. His green eyes flicked nervously between the door and the others, his usual light-hearted demeanor replaced by uncertainty. Beside him, Tara crossed her arms, her lips pressed together as her gaze stayed fixed on the door, eyebrows drawn in quiet concern.

Kory placed a hand on Grayson's arm, her own expression tense but composed. "He'll be alright," she murmured, as much to reassure herself as the others. "If anyone can reach her now, it's him."

Grayson gave a small nod, though his gaze didn't leave the door. "Let's hope so," he replied, his voice quiet, reflecting the unspoken worry shared by everyone standing outside that door.