Tim Drake sat alone at the very last row of the classroom, impassively poring over the equations on the page upside-down before him. The vigorous chatter of his classmates faded gradually, blending into a hum that he could barely hear. Surrounded by children who were sometimes inclined to be menacing to the weakling also known as the new kid, Tim reveled in being unknown. Such anonymity allowed him the cover of concealing his alternate life as Robin from the prying eyes of his classmates.
The noise swarming inside the room of students releasing themselves into the world became like a cacophonic anthem as the bell announced the end of class. Which, of course, in normal class style, agreed on promptly packing up, pulling out bits of gossip between them. Still, Tim every so now and then stayed behind, still looking at the math problem lying before him. Not that he was straining to understand it; in fact, numbers and symbols danced a lucid choreography of reason and precision across his mind. Such intellectual prowess was invaluable to him while patrolling each night as Robin.
Tim quietly packed his belongings after the last student finally filed out and proceeded to the exit of the school. The long shadows cast down by the setting sun lit up the whole city, signaling it was just about time he'd put on his bright red and green suit. The expected showdown at Dzerchenko's store was on the cusp, and Tim had to get ready for it.
He approached Dzerchenko's store through the chill of the night air for the first time, & then his heart began to jump. He knew that the Russian gangsters had been harassing Mr. Dzerchenko for months, but they had yet to make contact with Robin. Tim knew that if he did not do something soon, the problems would only escalate. With that thought, he melted back into the shadows, calculating angles and probabilities in anticipation of the extent of the confrontation.
Within, Ariana Dzerchenko's eyes glistened with a combination of fright and steely temper. She too had caught sight of the goons giving her father a hard time and ruining her life with Gotham's crime mayhem. Tim communed with her plight on this one; nevertheless, tonight would mark the beginning of things changing. While the gangsters swagging in, Tim's mind buzzed with analysis of their movements, within the frame of potential outcomes, and was poised to strike to safeguard the store and its owners.
Just then, as the gang leader approached the counter, wearing a look of mocking confidence, Tim stepped into the light, the bell above the door giving him away. The gangsters froze, shocked at Robin's sudden appearance. Ariana turned, her hands clutching the baseball bat she had grabbed from behind the counter. The leader's ridicule faltered, noticing Robin's determined stance.
"You're about to experience one hell of a night," Robin calmly stated, his voice steadfast. As the gangsters glanced nervously at each other, weighing their options, the leader stepped forward and let out a contemptuous laugh. "Who the hell are you supposed to be, kid?" He blasted Robin with a thickly accented retort.
Though his heart raced, Tim had a focused demeanor about himself, picturing what kind of a fight might ensue in his mind. "I'm Robin," he said, "and I'm here to see that this night does not end badly for the Dzerchenkos." Though the gangsters all snickered dismissively, Ariana's eyes glimmered with unexplored hope that a vigilante had come to help. The leader's hand crept toward his gun, brushing aside Robin's presence with so much arrogance.
Tim's eyes were fixed on the leader's arms, calculating every e-movement, no matter the variables. Upon pulling out the gun, Robin sprang into action, tumbled over the counter, and landed a sledgehammer-like kick to the lead gangster's ribs, deftly moving him backward, and getting him to tumble into his gang. For the clock packed with excitement, chaos broke loose as the other gangsters tried to pull the triggers of their various weapons, the press of chilly metal into the warmth of the glaring fluorescent lights.
In that harsh moment, facing-off against the gag, Ariana, in fear and resolve, swung her baseball bat valiantly, disarming the close-up gangster. This heroism inspired Tim to decide. Plotting the most strategic course of action, he struck from the leeward side, with agility and foresight, against each thug, beginning with the one that lunged at Ariana. He threw a quick counteraction against the gangster, and for a moment, both met one another's gaze and understood it — gratitude for his presence from her and a momentary disarm for the admiration he could see on her face.
He passed it off as the rest of the gangsters came on, still nursing bellicose scowls. Evolved into the frantic mathematical ballet in his head, making each swing with the staff an execrable calculation, one of them disarmed, sending an armored batarang to pin the man's arm firmly to the shelf, and with one swift, elegant lute-kick landed in—a rack of canned goods.
Ariana stepped back, staring big-eyed as Robin made his moves. He was a real representation of the equations she learned in physics-efficient, precise, simply breathtaking. No match for his speed; before long, they lay on the floor, groaning in pain and agony.
Mr. Dzerchenko stepped in from the back room, appearing like a lost kitten, with wide relief in his eyes. Waving his thick Russian accent around for the entire world, he spoke: "It is.. Thank you, Robin. These men, they come here often, demanding their stinkin' protection money."
"This will happen again," Robin reassured, turning his eyes to Ariana, still grasping onto the baseball bat with a thundering chest. "Be more cautious; Gotham is not a safe place at all."
He bowed his head with the utmost gravity, his eyes showing respect for the young hero."I will, Robin. Thank you for what you did."
These words warmed Tim through and through, though some stubborn cognitive mechanism told him to keep his attention fixed. "The biggest terror is out there," he said without any delay. "KGBeast is coming, and he won't be alone. You need to clear out, right now."
A frown of concern appeared on Mr. Dzerchenko's face, but Ariana took a step forward, tightening her grip on the bat. "We're not running," she said, her voice steady. "We're no longer afraid of them."
"Was it fear you really needed to worry about?" Robin said, painful at the sight of the bruises now forming on the gangsters' faces. "It's to survive, you see. The KGBeast is in a league of his own."
Ariana looked at him with defiance that he had always noticed in himself when he was younger in the years gone by. "Tough or not, we will manage," she declared.
Tim nodded. He knew he could not force them to leave. "Then I'll place a call to GCPD," he said while pulling out a communicator tagged in all innocence from his utility belt. "They'll supervise the store until I return."
As the sirens began to approach, the gangsters began to stir, and Robin knew he had to move fast. "Get out of the way!" he shouted to Ariana and her father as he dashed outside. The wail of the sirens intensified while the criminals stumbled out of the store, looking for an escape route. They found the GCPD waiting for them-a wall of blue and whites with GCPD officers pointing their guns sternly.
"Put the weapons down and get down on the ground," an officer bellowed. Outnumbered and beaten, the gangsters complied, trembling with anger and fear. Robin watched from the rooftop, his heart in his throat as he calculated the odds of the KG beast arriving before backup could.
The GCPD had secured the perimeter, handcuffed the gangsters, and herded them into a squad car. Tim kept his eye on the shadows, thinking about what the next move might be. It was a tense standoff; the air hung thick with expectation.
"What's going on here?" a gruff voice barked from below. It was Detective Harvey Bullock, his face now red and sweaty from climbing the fire escape. Tim's heart sank; he didn't have time to explain the situation with KGBeast to Bullock.
"Some just local trouble," Robin shouted down, lightening his tone. "All under control."
Bullock squinted up, suspicion leaping to his eyes. "You've got quite the fan club," he said, nodding toward the handcuffed gangsters. "What did you do, tickle them into submission?"
Tim smirked. "Let's just say I convinced them to see things differently." Bullock grunted, his spirit still doubtful. "Well, just keep it in check, kid; we don't need any more vigilante messes to clean up."
"You got it," Robin called back, already scanning the horizon for signs of the KG beast. He was still thinking about possibilities of where the assassin could emerge from the shadows.
Moments later, an engine roared through the alleyway, scrubbing a van just next to the store. The side door swung open, revealing a dozen more Russian gangsters, heavily armed and bearing the same insignia as the ones he had just apprehended. Tim's eyes narrowed-this was escalation, a declaration of war.
The GCPD officers stared wide-eyed and alarmed at the sudden influx of reinforcements, clearly outnumbered. "This is not just some local trouble," Bullock murmured into his radio. "We've got a situation on our hands."
Tim's eyes swept across the rooftop, looking for a good spot from which to observe the developing chaos. The KGBeast was almost definitely hiding nearby, waiting for his moment to strike. The gangsters surrounded the store and gave the officers a protective semi-circle around the Dzerchenkos. The tension hung palpable in the air, pregnant with the promise of a violent confrontation.
The GCPD officers, consumed in making communication with their counterparts, did not notice the sound of metal scraping concrete wafting in from the alley. A gangster was startled, eyes darting nervously. Then, almost as if summoned by fear, the KGBeast finally exited the shadows, his gleaming cybernetic arm shadowy in the dim light. Tim's stomach lurched at seeing that monstrous figure, and he sped up, recalculating the odds of victory in his mind.
"Do you dare to defy us?" said the KGBeast, his Russian accent thick and menacing. The GCPD tightened their grip around their weapons, their eyes trained on the towering presence. Tim knew the KGBeast was a foe not to be taken lightly, even with the gangsters layered atop him.
Ariana slipped her hand into her father's, and Mr. Dzerchenko squeezed her hand, reassuring. Tim noticed fear on their faces, mixed with some flicker of hope that made it clear they were not entirely alone in this battle.
"I'm going in," Tim stated. "Bullock, keep the cops on the perimeter. I will meet the KGBeast."
"You're a small thing," Bullock scoffed, "and that...that is most certainly something you cannot do anything to."
Tim's eyes were locked onto the KGBeast. "I have faced worse," he commented, somewhat confidently. He realized he should probably act fast, lest things get even worse.
And with that thought, he swung one leg over the side of the roof and, with or without the balletic grace that is meant to accompany such a maneuver, dropped down into the alley below. A soft noir-thud echoed in the narrow space as his boots hit the ground. The gangsters circling the store turned their eyes on Tim, narrowing them appreciably.
The KGBeast's gaze met Tim's then, a deathly silence was cast over the alley. Gangsters parted like an ocean of fear all at once, opening a cracked path for the hulking figure to pass toward the rooftop Robin had occupied just minutes before. Tim took a breath-it came difficult to take-as, heart thumping in his chest. The formulation swirled around in his mind; the chance of this occasion going a certain way against another were rapidly unfolding equations in confusion.
"Do you consider yourself a hero?" sneered the KGBeast, moving close as his mechanical arm hummed ominously. "You're just a kid playing dress-up."
Tim focused on the huge figure. "I've had worse," he said, steadying himself despite the anxiety he felt. "Get lost before things get messy."
The KGBeast grinned viciously, behind his mask. "Messy?" He laughed, the sound leaving spittle stains on the blast of metal. "We are in Gotham, boy. Dirty is just another Tuesday."
Tim felt like an anchor trudging under the city's fester, but he stood proud. Teaming with him through the communicator, he told Bullock, still gazing at the KGBeast, "Call it in. We have company."
"I've done it already," Bullock's voice crackled back. "Reinforcements are on their way but won't be here in time for the first round."
Tim nodded, thinking. The KGBeast took another step closer, the road quaking under his heavy boots. The gangsters had cleared a way to the store. Tim knew he had to keep the KGBeast's attention on him for the sake of the cops.
"Why here?" Tim asked, his voice ringing in the silence. "What do you want from the Dzerchenkos?"
The KGBeast grinned wider behind his mask. "The same thing your precious Batman wants: control." He took a step closer, and the ground beneath Tim's feet shuddered in anticipation for the throw-down.
Tim narrowed his eyes. Control-the very thing that was slipping through the city's fingers like sand. "You're not going to find it here," he growled. "This is their home. Their livelihood." The KGBeast spat on the ground, taunting him, "You think, who are you to protect them? You're just a kid-a pawn in the game you know nothing about." Tim's defiance was a tide to see the added, "I know enough. You are a bully, and I won't let you bully any longer."
And the fight began. Tim lunged forward, staff ready to meet the KGBeast with sheer fury. The first blow was a mighty swipe of the cybernetic arm. It was strong enough to take a car and crush it. Tim narrowly dove away just in time to feel the air whoosh as it caused his cape to ruffle. The gangsters gaped in silence as the street became alive, the whole staff-swinging against massive fists exchanging courtesy with a joyful steel clanking.
With each impact, waves of tremor stretched out and rattled the windows nearby. Tim felt adrenaline, his breaths coming in short and painful gasps as he danced around his opponent, searching for an opening. With a grueling grunt, he worked to clamp down on KGBeast's cybernetic limb in an effort to throw it off-balance and tumble into the dumpster. The gangsters watched in awe as their laughter evaporated into respect for the boy in the bird suit.
His muscles burned but he continued, knowing the KGBeast was only just warming up. The growl of the assassin: "You're fast, but not fast enough." The KGBeast pushed off the dumpster, and the hum of the cybernetic arm came to life, extending the deadly retractable sword. Tim gripped his staff tighter, knuckles white with tension. He lunged, swinging his staff to keep the KGBeast at bay, but in a heartbeat, the unexpected happened. With a mighty punch, the KGBeast smashed Tim's staff in half.
Now unarmed, Tim worked out his options in his mind, jumping right in, focusing on the impending challenge. Without his first weapon, speed and agility would now rely on him. The KGBeast strutted with his shining sword lunging in, but Tim dove aside, narrowly avoiding the oft-cast death-bringer.
The mobsters watched with bated breath. Tim calculated every movement while ducking and weaving against the KGBeast's powerful blows. The impact of each punch and kick was a dance dripping in elegance and power. For all the KGBeast's faults, its mechanical arm was relentless.
A lifeless blackness surrounded him as henchmen cackled. The KGBeast grunted rather loudly and staggered back. Tim understood he had to keep pressing, to keep the creature off balance. He swung again, his makeshift spear crashing into the very cybernetic limb.
And with that last punch, his blade fell to the ground as the street was filled with the grinding of those gears. The KGBeast let out a roar powerful enough to shake the very building walls about them. Tim would not wait for his opponent to recover. He moved in, swinging very calculated blows down on the KGBeast. The beast had begun swinging erratically in a frenzy without a sword to depend on.
Tim's heart pounded, muscles burning from fatigue; he never thought to stop. He couldn't. With each fostering second, the sirens grew louder, a lamenting chorus with the welcome whiff of reinforcement coming into play. GCPD swarmed the alley, weapons raised. Bullock was barking orders as his eyes widened upon witnessing the state of the battle. "Take them down!" he roared, gesturing toward the remaining gangster few circled around the fray.
The officers unleashed a volley of bullets across the alley, catching the unsuspecting gangsters off guard, who nevertheless fought back in a last ditch effort to defend themselves. Tim wasted no time when the gangsters became distracted; he jumped over the KGBeast and kicked him in the back of the knee. The brute went down, and Tim jumped in with both feet to protect the Dzerchenkos.
The alley really became one giant maelstrom—screams, gunfire, and the clash of metal against metal. Bullock's reinforcements arrived and illuminated the skyline in a random dance of blue and red lights of authority. Gangsters that thought themselves daring were floundering, their eyes now bursting with pure fright as they came to realize they were totally superior to them swiftly urged by the well-trained officers.
Yet from that nightmarish uproar, one man, meanwhile, stood like a stone-KGBeast. His arm-the horrible weapon that it was, simply hung loosely and had been lost during the fray. Under icy, calculating eyes, he looked around searching for some escape. Then, shocking for his size, he took flight and dashed for the sewer, disappearing into darkness.
Instinct kicked in for Tim. He gunned it. He had to follow. He must finish this payday for the Dzerchenkos and for Gotham. He dashed after the retreating monster, for it led to the cool maw of the sewer opening happily awaiting him. The sirens drifted away, and the world closed in on him-thumping footsteps and stink of the underbelly beneath the metropolitan glitz.
The entire sewer system was somewhat of a maze, but Tim mapped it out in his mind just like a basic word problem. He felt the powerful vibrations given off by KGBeast's stepped rhythm; those he'd now follow off into the darkness behind him. Adrenaline beat slowly down his heart, intensifying each splash with little droplets from his boots also agleam in the murky waters.
Ridiculously exuded through with the thick stench of rot, walls began closing down on him as he sank primevally further down into the built core of the city. His vision compensated nearly instantaneously for the darkness by those numbers and figures swirling before him that turned the world into a kind of grid composed of shadows and imminent hazards.
"You can run," booms Tim's voice as it echoed in the tunnels, an utterance cast down the abyss before him, "but you cannot hide."
Everything dripped only at great lengths here-while cockroaches and rats scuttled through the ages-delicately secured in the sewers. But Tim knew he was not alone here. He could feel it, the vibrations which shifted through the wetstone with what seemed to be the gear work in the depth beyond KGBeast's heavy footfalls. The KGBeast had taken the bait, drawn by the challenge's scent.
Tim's eyes narrowed and contorted in a range at his deepest base with a white-knuckled clench around the shattered end of his staff. "C'mon," he muttered in nearly guttural speech through clenched strictures, "Let's finish this now."
KGBeast chuckled loudly through the sewer tunnels-like a steady trot that crawled through Tim's shin. "You think you are a man?" boomed the monster, his Russian accent a taunting shiver. "With just a few lucky hits?"
Tim gritted his teeth and kept moving. The echoes of their earlier battle still nag at his mind, a painful memory of how his staff splintered under the brute's cybernetic grip. "I'm more than you bargained for," he shouted back, his voice ricocheting off the wet walls.
The KGBeast's chuckles grew louder, closer. Tim's instincts told him to be ready. The monster was playing a game, relishing the feeling of the cat and mouse. But Tim was no mouse. He was Gotham's guardian, never to abandon his will that oh-so-kindly rests behind the forces of the bat.
Suddenly, the KGBeast emerged from the shadows, his powerful arm cocked back for a firing shot. Tim had calculations to make: The staff would splinter further on that fist. So he threw the useless weapon aside and slid beneath the swing to roll around the other side. The beast was fast, but Tim was faster. He unleashed one tremendous series of punches and kicks, all aimed towards those joints that connected to the KGBeast's.
The monster laughed, a tempest of blows laid down on him. Tim felt each of those hits as he was beaten down beneath the force, an ear splitting clang, though he didn't relent. Equations danced before his mind's eye, guiding his movements, turning his pain into fuel. He saw the patterns in the KGBeast's attacks, the flaws in the way he struck worming their way through the offensive.
Tim could indeed feel himself weakening with each of the blows the KGBeast traded. Ribs were aching; vision was blurring; there was an odd taste of copper filling his mouth. But he didn't let it break him. He knew he had to be more than a boy with a costume to win—it was a beacon of hope in darkness. So he took those hits, letting them feed his resolve with each agony.
KGBeast smiled wider with each connected jab, bringing Tim into a dance of pain he enjoyed leading. "You're broken," he hissed as his fist smashed into Tim's jaw and knocked him sprawling.
Tim felt his whole world swirl in a haze of pain, but even in the chaos, he found his center. His indomitable will began to rise; he willed himself back up, blood trickling from his lips as his eyes set ablaze in fierce determination the creature did not expect.
The KGBeast, noticing the change in his opponent, snarl and charged again. His powerful arm arched towards Tim's head. But Tim anticipated it—every calculation, every possible variation therewith, every conceivable route towards escape. He ducked at the last delicate moment and, as though an armored defender, felt the shattering thump as the cybernetic fist struck the face of the brick wall. The force of the mighty blow shattered the wall, sending a cloud of dust and debris fluttering upward, showering the immediate area, but mainly shielding Tim from sight for the briefest of moments.
The KGBeast snarled in frustration, ripping apart the wall in search of the noble Robin. Tim took the chance to slip behind him, through the haste he waited with balled-up fists. Wiser in impressions than feeling, he realized that brute strength was not on his side; yet, speed and agility would help. With a mighty scream, he leaped into the air, wrapping his legs around KGBeast's neck. The beast had lost all balance, and Tim gripped with all his might.
For a brief moment, the KGBeast seemed stunned. His arms swung wildly. What little of the world around KGBeast, he could see blurred through pain and rage, while Tim's mind was oh so lucid; it was a tempest of calculations and possibilities.
The KGBeast growled: the reality of Tim's intentions dawned on him. He began rocking himself backward, attempting to unseat the boy. Tim gripped all the more-firmly, jaw clenched to hold back the pain. His muscles stung, but he would not let go. The KGBeast reeled back with a loud crash, breaking through a false wall into a room beyond.
The chamber was faintly lit, a strong smell of oil and burnt circuitry lay heavy on the air. Tim's eyes darted to find a way out, but the only way to escape was through the monster. He had to finish this now. Breathing in deep; focusing all of the strength into his legs, pushing from the wall, and driving his heel into the KGBeast's back. The creature staggered, off-balance; with that same momentum, he gave one last kick to the spot he locked him in before-the base of the neck.
In an instant, the KGBeast's body stiffened, the lights in his eyes extinguishing completely. With a loud crash, the monster slumped to the ground and shook the room. By then, Tim felt all of his strength shrink from him, his body relaxing. He sprawled beside the shocking form, shuddering with fatigue.