Dawn painted Gotham Harbor in sickly oranges and grays as Tony leaned against his motorcycle, watching GCPD officers swarm the warehouse like ants on spilled sugar. They'd arrived late to the party, of course. Most of the cultists had escaped during the second demon wave, leaving behind only their unconscious or dead comrades.
"They have no idea what they're looking at," Tony muttered, biting into a stale donut he'd bought from an all-night convenience store. His third breakfast of the morning. Fighting demons always left him ravenous.
Beside him, Robin stood with perfect posture, seemingly untired despite the night's events. The kid had skills, Tony had to admit. Not many teenagers could go toe-to-toe with bloodthirsty demons and come out with only a few scratches.
"GCPD's Evidence Response Team is trained for metahuman incidents," Robin said, though his tone suggested he shared Tony's skepticism.
"Yeah? They got a form for 'interdimensional demonic incursion' these days?" Tony crumpled his donut wrapper and tossed it into a nearby trash can. "Cause I'm pretty sure that's not covered in police academy."
Before Robin could respond, Superboy landed beside them, having completed a perimeter sweep of the area. The concrete cracked slightly under his feet.
"No sign of the cultists," he reported. "Raven says they've gone underground, literally. There's an old tunnel system beneath the harbor district."
"Gotham's famous sewers," Tony sighed. "Joy."
Impulse appeared next, vibrating with nervous energy. "So what's the play? Go after them? Alert the Justice League? Order pizza? I'm starving."
"First, we debrief," Robin said firmly. He touched his earpiece. "And speak of the devil..."
Tony snorted. "That would be me, kid."
Robin ignored him, turning away slightly as he responded to whoever was on the comm. From his suddenly stiffened posture and clipped responses, Tony guessed who was on the other end.
"Daddy Bats checking in?" he asked when Robin finished.
The teenager turned, eyes narrowing behind his mask. "Batman wants a full report. Including details about you."
"I'm sure he does," Tony replied, checking his watch. Almost six AM. He'd been awake for nearly twenty-four hours, and even with his enhanced stamina, fatigue was setting in. "Tell him to make an appointment like everyone else."
"This isn't a joke," Robin said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "We have dead civilians, demons in Gotham, and a damaged seal that could unleash who knows what onto the city. Batman needs information."
Tony studied the kid. Tough, disciplined, determined. Not unlike himself at that age, minus the whole half-demon heritage thing.
"Fine," he conceded. "But not here. Too many ears."
Robin nodded. "We have a temporary base nearby. Secure enough for this conversation."
"Lead the way, Boy Wonder."
________________________________
The "temporary base" turned out to be an abandoned clock tower in Gotham's Old Town district. Tony followed the teens inside, impressed despite himself at the equipment they'd managed to set up in what was clearly an improvised headquarters.
Raven was already there, meditating in a corner, surrounded by a faint aura of dark energy. She opened one eye as they entered but didn't break her trance.
"Nice digs," Tony commented, sliding into a chair and propping his feet up on a console. "Rent must be killer."
Robin moved to a central computer terminal, typing rapidly. The largest screen flickered to life, displaying a shadowy figure that Tony instantly recognized as the Dark Knight himself.
"Report," Batman said without preamble, his gravelly voice filling the room.
Robin provided a concise summary of the night's events, occasionally supplemented by comments from Superboy or Impulse. Tony remained silent, studying Batman's silhouette on the screen. The man gave away nothing, his expression hidden in shadow.
When Robin finished, Batman was quiet for a moment, then said, "The cultists' interest in that particular location suggests they knew about the seal. Someone provided them with that information."
"My thoughts exactly," Tony chimed in, unable to stay quiet any longer. "Those Blood Church types aren't exactly scholars. Someone's pulling their strings."
Batman's focus shifted to him. The weight of that attention was almost physical, like being under a microscope.
"Tony Redgrave," Batman said, the name sounding like an accusation. "You appeared in Gotham approximately fourteen months ago. Before that, your background is... murky."
Tony gave a mock salute with two fingers. "Pleasure to meet you too, Bats. Love the whole shadowy intimidation vibe you've got going."
"Why are you involved in this?" Batman pressed, ignoring his flippancy.
"I was hired. Wayne Enterprises has a demon problem at their warehouse. I solve demon problems. Simple transaction."
"Nothing involving demons is simple," Batman replied. "Robin reports you displayed abilities beyond normal human capacity. Teleportation. Enhanced strength. Expert knowledge of supernatural entities."
Tony shrugged. "I work out, like you."
Even through the screen, Batman's frustration was palpable. "Gotham is under my protection. That includes threats of a supernatural nature. If you're withholding information that could endanger my city..."
"Look dude," Tony interrupted, dropping his feet from the console and leaning forward. "I get the whole territorial thing. But trust me when I say you're out of your depth here. Demons aren't like your usual costumed lunatics. They don't want money or power or to prove a point. They want to consume, corrupt, and destroy everything you care about."
Batman remained silent, waiting.
Tony sighed, running a hand through his white hair. "The seal in that warehouse contains a fragment of Trigon's essence. Think of it like... a spiritual battery. Normally dormant, but those cultists woke it up. Now it's searching for a host, someone it can use to gain influence in this world."
"How do you know this?" Robin asked.
"Experience," Tony replied simply.
Batman's voice cut through again. "Your weapons. They're not standard issue."
Tony laughed. "Nothing about me is standard issue, Bats."
"The sword you carry," Batman continued, "has engravings similar to artifacts recovered from an archaeological dig in Eastern Europe three years ago. Artifacts linked to legends of a demon knight named Sparda."
The room fell silent. Tony's expression hardened, all traces of humor vanishing.
"You've been doing your homework," he said quietly.
"I make it my business to know what enters my city," Batman replied. "The legends speak of a powerful demon who betrayed his kind to protect humanity. Who fathered half-human children."
Superboy's eyes widened. "Wait, are you saying he's..."
"Half demon," Raven confirmed, rising from her meditation. "I sensed it immediately. His aura bears the mark of his heritage, though it's... different from what I'm familiar with."
All eyes turned to Tony, who sat very still, his face unreadable.
"Well," he finally said, "this got awkward fast."
"Are you a threat to this city?" Batman asked bluntly.
Tony met the shadowy gaze on the screen. "No. But what's coming through that seal definitely is."
"Tell us everything," Robin demanded. "No more games."
Tony looked around at the young heroes, weighing his options. These kids had fought well against the demons. They deserved some truth, even if not the whole story.
"My father was Sparda," he said at last. "The legends are mostly true. He was a demon knight who rebelled against his kind, fought to protect the human world. My mother was human. I inherited certain... abilities from my old man. Strength, speed, healing. Enough demon in me to fight them effectively."
"And the weapons?" Robin pressed.
"Rebellion, my sword, was a gift from my father. Ebony and Ivory," he gestured to his holstered pistols, "are custom jobs, designed to channel my power. Effective against demons in ways normal weapons aren't."
Batman's voice cut in again. "What happened to your mother?"
The question hit Tony like a punch to the gut. Memories flashed through his mind. Blood on white walls. Yellow eyes in darkness. Her scream.
"Demons," he said tersely. "When I was seven. That's why I hunt them now."
Something in Batman's posture shifted slightly, perhaps recognition of a shared trauma.
"The cultists will try again," Tony continued, shaking off the dark memories. "That seal needs to be properly repaired or replaced. I know someone who might be able to help, but I'll need time to contact him."
"Who?" Batman asked.
"John Morrison. Occult expert, specializes in ancient languages and binding magic. Not the kind of guy who advertises in the yellow pages."
Batman was silent for a moment, then said, "The name is familiar. Former British Intelligence, discharged under unusual circumstances. Now works as a 'freelance exorcist and occult consultant.'"
Tony whistled. "Your database must be fun at parties."
"How soon can you contact him?" Batman asked, ignoring the quip.
"Give me a day. Maybe two. He's not big on phones."
Batman nodded once. "Robin, your team will continue monitoring the warehouse and tracking the cultists. Coordinate with Raven on containing any further demonic activity." His focus returned to Tony. "You will report any findings directly to Robin. If you attempt to handle this alone..."
"You'll do what exactly?" Tony challenged. "Last I checked, your gadgets don't work so well against hellspawn."
"You'd be surprised," Batman replied coldly. "Robin, keep me updated." The screen went dark.
Tony slumped back in his chair, suddenly aware of how tired he was. "Your boss is a real charmer."
"He doesn't trust you," Robin said simply.
"Smart man," Tony replied with a humorless smile. "I wouldn't either."
Impulse zoomed to his side, curiosity overriding caution. "So you're really half demon? That's so cool! Can you transform? Do you have, like, a super demon mode? Is that why your hair is white? Do you—"
"Impulse," Robin cut him off sharply.
"It's fine," Tony said, waving a dismissive hand. "Yes, I have what I call a Devil Trigger. No, you don't want to see it unless things get really bad. And yes, the hair is natural. Family trait."
Superboy crossed his arms. "How do we know you won't turn on us? If your father was a demon..."
"My father rebelled against his kind to protect humanity, asshole." Tony said, an edge creeping into his voice. "I honor that choice. Besides, if I wanted to cause chaos, I wouldn't waste time fighting other demons to do it."
Raven approached, her cloak swirling around her. "I believe him," she said quietly. "His aura is... complex, but not malevolent. Not like Trigon's."
"You know a lot about Trigon," Tony observed. "Personal interest?"
Something flickered across Raven's face, too quick to read. "You could say that."
Robin interrupted before the conversation could continue. "We need to secure that seal until your contact can repair it properly. Raven has placed temporary wards, but they won't hold indefinitely."
Tony stood, stretching muscles stiff from the night's exertions. "I'll reach out to Morrison. In the meantime, I need coffee, food, and about four hours of sleep, in that order."
"We should remain in contact," Robin said, handing him a small communicator. "In case there are further developments."
Tony pocketed the device with a nod. "One big happy demon-hunting family now, huh?"
"Hardly," Robin replied, but there was the ghost of a smile on his face. "Just an uneasy alliance."
"Those are often the most effective kind," Tony said, heading for the door. He paused, looking back at the gathered teens. "Word of advice from someone who's been doing this a while? Demons play dirty. They find what you care about and use it against you. Watch each other's backs."
With that, he left, the weight of unshared secrets still heavy on his shoulders. He hadn't told them everything. Not about his brother. Not about his suspicions regarding the timing of these attacks. Not about the dreams he'd been having lately, memories of his father's voice warning him of a coming storm.
Some truths were better left buried, at least for now.
As he walked through Gotham's awakening streets toward his shop, Tony couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much larger. The cultists, the seal, Young Justice, Batman... all pieces on a board, moving toward an endgame he couldn't yet see.
"Just another fucking day in paradise," he muttered to himself, as the first rays of morning sun cut through Gotham's perpetual gloom.