Chapter Text
Donna Troy
Donna Troy had learned a long time ago that there were three kinds of truth.
The truth you told.
The truth you believed.
The truth that existed regardless of either.
Most people only ever dealt with the first two.
The Fab Five dealt almost exclusively in the third.
***
Present
The museum smelled like polished marble and old paper.
Donna smiled warmly at the curator.
"You've been wonderful."
The older man beamed.
"It's an honor to work with Wonder Girl."
He meant it.
That was the part that always hurt.
She liked him.
He was a genuinely kind man who adored history.
He would spend the next week believing he had personally authenticated one of the most important artifacts of the century.
And he would never know he'd been manipulated.
Donna hated manipulating good people.
She'd simply accepted that sometimes it was necessary.
"I'm afraid I have another appointment."
"Of course! Thank you again."
She shook his hand.
Firm.
Friendly.
Exactly three pumps.
She left.
***
The smile disappeared the second the museum doors closed behind her.
A black sedan pulled alongside the curb.
The passenger window lowered.
Roy was driving.
"Get in."
Donna didn't.
"You're thirty-two seconds early."
"I know."
"You hate being early."
"I know."
She looked at him for another moment before climbing in.
The doors locked automatically.
Roy didn't drive.
Neither of them spoke.
Twenty seconds.
Thirty.
Forty.
Finally—
"You switched it?"
Donna stared ahead.
"Yes."
Roy nodded.
"Good."
Another silence.
Donna broke it.
"...You don't want to know if it was difficult?"
"No."
"...Or whether anyone noticed?"
"No."
"...Or if I have the right one?"
Roy finally looked at her.
"If you say you have it..."
His voice was completely matter-of-fact.
"...then you have it."
Donna smiled despite herself.
Absolute trust.
They'd made that rule when they were sixteen.
No verification.
No second-guessing.
If one of the Five completed an objective...
...then it was complete.
Because asking for proof implied doubt.
And doubt got people killed.
Eight years ago
"I think you counted wrong."
Wally looked offended.
"I did not."
Roy pointed toward the warehouse.
"There are twelve guards."
"There were eleven."
"There are twelve."
"There are eleven."
Donna rubbed her temples.
"Oh my gods."
Garth quietly counted.
"...There are twelve."
Wally crossed his arms triumphantly.
"See?"
"You weren't right either."
"I'll take it."
Dick folded the blueprint.
"From now on..."
Everyone looked at him.
"...if one of us gives information..."
His eyes swept across the room.
"...we assume it was correct when they said it."
Donna frowned.
"Even if it's changed?"
"Especially if it's changed."
Garth nodded first.
Then Roy.
Then Wally.
Donna was last.
"...Okay."
None of them realized that tiny agreement would become one of the foundations of how they operated.
Present
Roy finally pulled away from the curb.
Neither of them mentioned where they were going.
Neither asked.
They already knew.
***
Meanwhile...
Batman was angry.
Not visibly.
Bruce Wayne rarely looked angry.
Instead...
He became quieter.
Barbara recognized the signs immediately.
"He hasn't contacted any of them."
Bruce didn't answer.
"Dick."
Silence.
"Wally."
Nothing.
"Roy."
Bruce finally spoke.
"If I call them..."
Barbara looked over.
"...they'll know what I've discovered."
She sighed.
"...Which means they expected you to notice eventually."
Bruce nodded once.
"They're controlling information."
Barbara stared at the frozen security footage.
"...No."
Bruce looked up.
"They're controlling discovery."
There was a difference.
Barbara hated that there was a difference.
Dick had shown her once.
Years ago.
"You hide something."
Dick placed a coin beneath a coffee mug.
"I look for it."
Barbara lifted the mug.
"There."
"Exactly."
He moved the coin to his pocket.
"Again."
Barbara searched the table.
Nothing.
"It's gone."
Dick smiled.
"No."
He handed her her own phone.
The coin was taped to the back.
Barbara blinked.
"...You wanted me looking at the table."
"Exactly."
She frowned.
"So the trick isn't hiding things."
Dick nodded.
"The trick is choosing where people search."
Barbara closed her eyes.
"...Oh."
Bruce looked over.
"What?"
"They're feeding us clues."
Bruce immediately understood.
"...Because they want us investigating those clues."
Barbara's stomach dropped.
"So what aren't we looking at?"
***
Elsewhere...
Garth stood in absolute darkness.
The chamber beneath Atlantis hadn't been opened in nearly three hundred years.
The council had forbidden it.
Which naturally meant someone eventually had to come down here.
Ancient murals covered the walls.
Not Atlantean.
Older.
Much older.
Garth raised his flashlight.
Symbols stretched across the ceiling.
A language even he couldn't read.
"...You're late."
The voice echoed softly.
Garth didn't flinch.
"I know."
A woman stepped from the shadows.
Silver hair.
Golden eyes.
She looked...
Wrong.
Not dangerous.
Just...
Out of place.
Like history itself had accidentally kept walking.
"You found it."
"I found something."
She smiled faintly.
"You don't trust me."
"No."
"Good."
She seemed pleased.
"You shouldn't."
She walked toward the central pedestal.
"...Did Richard tell you what this place is?"
Garth answered honestly.
"No."
She nodded.
"He wouldn't."
Because Dick had never told Garth.
He'd simply handed him a map.
With one sentence.
If I'm right, you'll understand why we lose.
Nothing else.
No explanation.
No context.
Just trust.
Garth looked around.
"...Who built this?"
The woman looked almost nostalgic.
"...The people who taught Atlantis how to drown."
Far Above...
Roy drove.
Donna watched the passing city.
Finally—
"...You're worried."
Roy laughed.
"When am I not?"
"No."
She looked at him.
"You're scared."
Roy's smile disappeared.
"...Yeah."
Donna waited.
Roy never talked unless he was ready.
Eventually—
"I think Dick's wrong."
Donna didn't react.
He continued.
"I think there's six players."
Silence.
The car suddenly felt much smaller.
"...Why?"
Roy swallowed.
"I checked something."
"You weren't supposed to."
"I know."
"What did you find?"
Roy tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"The files Dick gave me..."
"...weren't the originals."
Donna slowly turned toward him.
"...Excuse me?"
"I checked the paper."
"You checked—"
"I know."
She stared.
Roy almost laughed.
"I know."
Because they had rules.
You didn't verify another Titan's work.
Ever.
Donna finally asked,
"...Why?"
Roy's voice became very quiet.
"...Because Dick looked scared."
Silence.
Real silence.
Not the comfortable kind.
The awful kind.
Donna had known Dick Grayson since they were children.
She'd seen him bleeding.
Grieving.
Broken.
Exhausted.
Furious.
Terrified.
But scared?
No.
Not once.
"...Roy."
He didn't look away from the road.
"I've only ever seen that expression one other time."
Donna already knew.
She didn't want to.
"...When?"
"...The day his parents died."
***
Across the Country...
Dick Grayson stood alone inside the Batcave.
The real Batcave.
Not the one Bruce thought he was in.
He looked up at a wall covered in centuries-old architectural plans.
The Cave was older than Gotham.
Much older.
His phone buzzed once.
No message.
Just...
One vibration.
Donna.
He smiled.
She'd figured out Roy had broken protocol.
Good.
That meant they were adapting.
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Unfolded it.
Read it again.
His expression hardened.
The handwriting wasn't his.
But it knew things no one else should know.
At the bottom of the page was a single sentence.
You are still preparing for the first war.
The second one already ended.
Dick looked up into the darkness of the cave.
For the first time since Chapter One...
"...So you finally noticed me."
A pause.
Then, softer—
"...I was wondering how long you'd wait."
The shadows, of course, didn't answer.
But somewhere, hidden beyond the reach of Batman's sensors and even the Fab Five's carefully layered plans, someone smiled.
Because Richard Grayson had just acknowledged an opponent he had been quietly hunting for years.
And for the first time, the reader can be certain of only one thing:
The Fab Five are not the hunters.
Not entirely.
They are also being hunted.