Marek sat atop the old water tower, legs dangling off the edge. Beside him sat Artemis, a legacy villain three years his elder. The city below blinked in flickers of orange and steel, the occasional siren cutting the quiet. Marek toggled with the smartphone in his hand, anger building in his chest. The League had stopped Constantine's attack on Ted Kord. They had also successfully captured Deadshot, his partner in-crime. Yet, the man had escaped prison traNewport
Artemis took a bite of an energy bar and winced. "These taste like cardboard."
"You eat cardboard for protein?"
She smirked. "No, but I've tried these." She held it out. "Wanna see if it cracks your jaw?"
Marek shook his head, jaw tight. "Not hungry."
Artemis noticed his shoulders were tenser than usual, breathing slower. Like he was holding something in.
"You good?" she asked, nudging his arm. "You've been awfully quiet"
He didn't look at her.
"Constantine escaped prison transport," he said. "He escaped"
"Yeah," she said, voice low "I know. Dad helped"
"They didn't even cuff him hard. Just knocked him out and called in pickup like it was routine." Marek's voice darkened. "He smiled when they dragged him away, Artemis. Smiled."
Artemis stared straight ahead, letting the wind blow her ponytail to one side.
Marek turned to her now, eyes burning in the dark. "Why do your 'heroes' never finish it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, why do they let them live?" His voice rose, anger breaking through. "Villains like that—like my father—they don't stop. They get out. They kill more. And every time, it's like the heroes just forget. Or forgive. And people die for it."
Artemis didn't speak. She'd asked herself that question more than once. When she was younger. When her father kept coming back.
"I hate them for it," Marek said finally. "All of them. Not because they fight. But because they won't finish the fight."
Silence again.
She let it sit, even though it made her chest feel tight.
"You know I've thought about it too," she said eventually. "Taking the shot. Sneak into his room and slit his throat. Ending him before he gets the chance to hurt anyone else."
Marek looked at her, expression unreadable.
"But I think," she continued, "if we cross that line once… it gets easier to cross it again. And then again. Until we're not stopping villains anymore—we are them. We are our parents"
He snorted. "Maybe we already are. Just baby-faced."
"You're not," she said, leaning against him lightly. "You're angry, Marek. And you have a right to be. But you're you. The boy who tried to fight Lawrence because I was injured. The boy who snuck food in for Jade, when our father chased her away"
"I wanted to"
"But you didn't have to"
He was quiet for a long time.
"I don't think I could be like the League," Marek admitted, staring down at the blinking lights below. "All mercy and second chances."
"Maybe you don't have to be," Artemis said. "Just… don't lose the part of you that wants to be better. That's the only line that matters. You are a good friend, Red"
"Red?"
"Red, for those freaky eyes. Other than learn fighting styles—instantly— what else can they do?"
Marek scratched his head, and puffed up his chest, "they enhance my perception, allow me to see supernatural energy, make illusions, y'know, the usual"
Artemis giggled
Marek looked at her, and for the first time that night, something in his shoulders relaxed.
"This might be the last time you see me in years," he said, "Constantine's taking me to the Shadow League"
"The League of Shadows?", her eyes widened, her hands trembled
"Ya them"
"You need to escape now", Artemis quickly stood up and pulled his arm, but Marek didn't budge, "Once in, no one escapes the league"
"I need to go", he argued, "need to grow strong enough to defeat our fathers. The league will help me reach the goal"
"YOU CRAZY?", she screamed, "you said you didn't want to be our parents. They ruin people, Marek, they kill innocent people"
Marek didn't reply, he didn't move a muscle
"I'll never be them, I promise", he looked at her with conviction, "but I need to learn how to be a better fighter"
Marek removed a hidden knife, the words
"Smiðr til tortímingar, valði að vernda"
(Forged for destruction, chose to protect)
Inscribed into it. He carefully presented the knife to his only friend. "I had my knife engraved in secret. Maybe I'll never exact my revenge, maybe I'll", he shook his head, "Know this, I'll never harm an innocent"
Artemis took the knife with tears in her eyes, and she suddenly wrapped her arms around him, already feeling the absence of her best friend.
They watched the city in silence, watched the buildings breathe in the dark; children shaped by villains, dared to dream of being something more