Some of the previous Young Justice team had gotten together to take down a underground fight club for metahumans. They had dealt with a similar situation a few months ago, in which meta-teenagers were pitted against each other in the ring under mind control. This time, however, the teenagers were participating by their own free will, either to try to support themselves after being separated by trafficking or having nowhere else to go. Using the intel on meta-trafficking and tracking devices, they had finally pinned down the location of the fight club.
The Young Justice team had just woken up from the failsafe mission. It had been traumatizing for all of them. They watched each other die in the simulation. It had been scarily real. Y/N came from a bad home life. Her mother had passed and her father was a villain. In the simulation, she watched her father stab a sword through her stomach and leave her there to bleed. She had very deep trust issues, and the simulation brought them out. The silence was heavy among all of the team.
The lights dimmed as a hum filled the air, followed by the sharp click of a projector flickering to life. Shackles of glowing energy pinned you and your teammates into metal chairs, arranged like an audience before a blank wall. A villainâs voice slipped through the darkness, mocking and smooth.
In truth, despite itâs suddenness, Roy likes the newest Outlaw. Theyâre efficient, a trait Jason definitely likes, along with the near obsession they have with getting the job done. No loose ends.
It was hard living in Gotham for most. Jobs were a struggle to find, homes constantly being broken into, innocents attacked on the streets everyday. You had two kinds of people in Gotham. The Gotham socialites- flamboyant, carefree, expensive taste, shallow people with deep wallets. Then you had the low class people- barely making it day to day, struggling to eat, criminals who were once kind people. Among the low class people fell Jane Lanson.
âAre you kidding me? You let them get away? Theyâre a murderer, Sage!â Richard exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. Heâd expected better. More. Bruce Wayne had trained them to be perfect, just like all the others, so why was Sage so ineffective at this? Was he not pushing them enough? It was like they were some clumsy kid, which, in a way, they were.
At 19, Bruce Wayne was still navigating the complexities of his own life, far from ready to shoulder the responsibility of anyone else. But fate had other plans. The day he met Sage, an 11-year-old child whose single mother had tragically passed, something deep inside him stirred. There was a quiet determination in Sageâs eyes, a resilience that resonated with Bruce in a way he couldnât quite explain.