The dust from the collapsed ceiling choked the air in the white room.
Batman landed heavily, his cape billowing, immediately placing himself between Dick and the massive Talon. Bruce's left shoulder was heavily bandaged under his suit, and he was favoring the arm, but his presence filled the room like a thundercloud.
"Dick," Batman growled, not taking his eyes off the Talon. "The grappling line is secured above. Get out. Now."
Dick stood up, shaking the marble dust from his red tunic. He looked at the rope dangling from the hole in the ceiling. Then he looked at Bruce, bleeding and exhausted. He looked at the dozen more Talons pouring into the room from the hidden corridors, their gold eyes glowing in the haze.
If he left, Bruce would be overwhelmed.
Dick planted his feet. He raised his fists.
"No," Dick said. His voice didn't tremble.
Batman half-turned, furious. "This isn't a debate, Robin! Go!"
"You taught me to be a soldier," Dick shot back, bouncing on his toes. "Soldiers don't leave their squad behind."
He looked past Bruce to Sebastian, who was calmly lighting the pilot light of a military-grade flamethrower with a snap of his gloved fingers.
"And Sebastian taught me to be annoying," Dick grinned nervously. "I'm going to be very annoying."
I chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "That's my boy."
The massive Talon roared and charged.
"ENGAGE!" Batman bellowed.
The fight was on.
It was chaos, but it was beautiful chaos. It was the forging of the unit that would terrifying Gotham's underworld for decades.
Batman was the anchor. Despite his injury, he met the massive Talon head-on.
CRASH.
Bruce caught the Talon's sword wrist, twisting it with hydraulic-assisted force, and slammed his forehead into the Talon's owl mask. The porcelain shattered. Bruce grunted as the impact jarred his wounded shoulder, but he held his ground, a black wall of titanium and rage.
While the Hammer worked, the Scalpel went to work.
Dick couldn't hurt the armored Talons with punches. So he didn't try.
A Talon lunged at Bruce's exposed back. Dick didn't intercept the attack; he intercepted the attacker. He slid between the Talon's legs, kicking up hard, throwing the assassin off balance.
As the Talon stumbled forward, Dick used the man's own back as a stepping stone, launching himself into the air.
"Sebastian! High five!" Dick yelled, soaring across the room.
I didn't need to look. I knew where he was.
I raised the silver serving tray. Dick landed on it with one foot, using me as a human launchpad. I pushed upward with demon strength, sending him flying toward the upper lights.
Dick threw three batarangs (he had swiped them from Bruce's belt during the hug in the cave). They smashed the remaining fluorescent lights, plunging the room into semi-darkness.
"Owls prefer the dark!" a Talon hissed.
"So do we," I replied politely.
I pulled the trigger on the flamethrower.
WHOOSH.
A twenty-foot tongue of fire erupted, illuminating the room in hellish orange. I swept the area, forcing four Talons to retreat, shrieking as their regenerative compounds boiled.
"Young Master, your three o'clock!" I called out, using the serving tray to deflect a throwing knife aimed at Bruce's neck.
Batman didn't look. He trusted my call. He spun, swinging a backfist that cracked the helmet of the approaching Talon.
It was a deadly ballet. Bruce provided the raw power, smashing through the enemy lines. Dick provided the kinetic energy, bouncing off walls, tripping enemies, and drawing their fire. I provided the lethal precision, closing the gaps and ensuring no one touched the Masters.
But they kept coming. The Court had emptied the Labyrinth.
The massive lead Talon recovered from Bruce's headbutt. He grabbed Batman by the injured shoulder, digging his claws into the wound.
Bruce roared in pain, his knee buckling.
"The Bat breaks!" the Talon gloated, raising a dagger.
"HEY! FEATHERS!"
Dick Grayson launched himself from the top of a broken wall panel. He didn't throw a punch. He threw his entire body weight.
He hit the Talon in the chest with a dropkick that would have made a professional wrestler weep.
It wasn't enough to hurt the Talon, but it was enough to knock him backward—right into Bruce's strike zone.
"Hammer!" Dick yelled as he rolled away.
Batman didn't hesitate. He channeled every ounce of his pain and rage into a single uppercut.
KRA-KOOM.
The impact lifted the seven-foot-tall assassin off his feet. His neck snapped back at an unnatural angle. He crashed to the floor and didn't move.
The remaining Talons paused. Their leader was down. The room was on fire. And the three intruders were standing in the center, back-to-back-to-back. The Bat, the Bird, and the Butler.
"Excellent form, Master Dick," I said, dusting soot off my lapel. "Though your landing was a tad sloppy."
"I'll work on it," Dick panted, adrenaline surging through him. He looked at Bruce. "You okay?"
Bruce looked at the boy. He saw the dirt on his face, the fire in his eyes, the vibrant red of his tunic shining in the gloom. He hadn't broken. He had flourished.
"Good work, Robin," Bruce grunted. It was the highest praise he was capable of giving.
Bruce looked up at the hole in the ceiling.
"Sebastian. The exit."
"Way ahead of you, sir."
I pointed the flamethrower at the support beams I had weakened during our entry.
BURN.
The wood caught fire instantly. The structure above began to groan.
"Time to go," I announced. "Unless anyone wishes to be buried alive."
Batman fired his grapple through the hole. He grabbed Dick around the waist.
"Hold on."
They shot up through the smoke.
I lingered for one second longer. I looked at the Talons who were regrouping. I let my human camouflage drop entirely. My horns manifested. My smile widened until it split my face.
"Tell the Court," I hissed, my voice echoing with the screams of the damned, "He is ours."
I spread my wings—leathery, raven-black wings that filled the room—and launched myself upward, following my masters into the night, leaving the burning Labyrinth behind us.
_________________________________________________________________________
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