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TEEN TITANS: FIRST DAY
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A flaming helicopter cuts across the night sky of Jump City. The rotors spin wildly out of control. Robin bursts from the cabin—nineteen years old, dark suit, yellow cape. No parachute.
He falls in a hard dive. Wind tears at his cape. His voice comes through, tight but controlled.
ROBIN (voice-over):
— Batman always said a leader never asks others to do what he won't do himself.
Below him, an armored truck barrels down an empty highway at full speed. Robin adjusts his body position. He extends his Kinetrium staff, which glows with a faint blue light as it absorbs the energy of the imminent impact.
ROBIN (voice-over):
— Tonight there's no bat. Just us.
The staff crashes into the truck's roof. A silent shockwave ripples out. Robin lands in a crouch, the metal buckling beneath him. The screen shakes.
Stylized images flash across the screen: the five Titans in action. Cyborg stopping a car with his bare hands. Starfire hurling a green Starbolt. Beast Boy transforming into a tiger. Raven with white eyes as rubble levitates around her. Robin sprinting across a rooftop.
---
Three thieves wearing stolen jet packs fly low through Jump City streets, weaving between cars. Behind them, the five Titans spread out.
Cyborg runs on foot, his sonic cannon charged. Starfire weaves through the air, still struggling to keep pace. Beast Boy, in hawk form, wobbles awkwardly in flight. Raven floats with cold precision. Robin vaults between rooftops.
Chaos erupts on the comms.
BEAST BOY (via comms):
— Yo, Cy, you seeing what I'm seeing or is my night vision glitching out?
CYBORG (via comms):
— I see three idiots with stolen Kord Industries jet packs. And just so we're clear—you're not a tiger right now. You're a hawk. Hawks don't have night vision.
BEAST BOY:
— That's why I'm telling you! I can't see anything! Why'd I even turn into a hawk?
RAVEN (via comms):
— To shut you up, hopefully.
BEAST BOY:
— That hurt, Rae. Right here. In the wing.
Robin lands on a rooftop, cutting through cleanly.
ROBIN (via comms):
— Radio silence. Starfire, visual confirmation?
STARFIRE (flying, straining):
— I have them. Heading for the bridge. But this Earth wind is... troublesome. On Tamaran, the winds don't push. They accompany.
BEAST BOY:
— Accompany? Like a friend?
STARFIRE:
— Precisely. Like a friend. Here the wind has no manners.
Cyborg bites back a laugh while running.
CYBORG:
— I can't believe we're wasting time talking about friendly winds. Robin, what's the play?
ROBIN:
— Cyborg, cut the bridge with a pulse. Beast Boy, gorilla form below in case they fall. Starfire, warning lights. Raven...
RAVEN:
— Already on it. Telekinetic lock. Packs are going dark.
The thieves' packs spark and die mid-flight. All three drop hard onto a pile of garbage that Raven's telekinesis has repositioned underneath. Comms go silent.
BEAST BOY:
— So you could've done that from the start and saved us all this trouble.
RAVEN:
— Yes.
BEAST BOY:
— Then why didn't you?
RAVEN:
— Because we were having such an interesting conversation about winds and hawks.
Cyborg laughs hard. Robin, behind the mask, almost smiles—just barely visible. The camera pulls back as they're being cuffed.
---
The massive screen in the Titans' Tower main room displays the bat symbol before cutting to static. The five stand scattered around the room. Robin is rigid on his feet. He's just killed the connection.
CYBORG:
— So? What'd he say?
ROBIN:
— Space. Darkseid. Don't know when they're coming back.
Brief silence. Batman's words still hang in the air: "Dick, we're heading to space. Darkseid has the Anti-Life Equation. I'm trusting you. Keep the city safe."
BEAST BOY:
— Wait, wait, wait. Batman tells you "watch the city" and just hangs up? Like handing over the car keys?
ROBIN:
— Basically.
BEAST BOY:
— Damn. And he didn't give you a manual? A pep talk? A bat-hug?
ROBIN:
— Not his style.
Starfire drifts over gently, trying to help.
STARFIRE:
— On Tamaran, when a warrior departs for a battle from which they may not return, we perform a rite. We speak their true name. We remember their deeds. We...
RAVEN:
— This isn't Tamaran. Here people just leave.
Starfire looks hurt, but nods slowly. Cyborg gets up, playing peacemaker.
CYBORG:
— What Raven means—with her usual charm—is Batman doesn't do rituals. He does plans. And he left us one: us.
BEAST BOY:
— So we're Plan B. Great. Always wanted to be a letter of the alphabet.
CYBORG:
— Plan A was Superman. Don't complain. Being Plan B to the smartest guy in the world isn't nothing.
ROBIN:
— Drop it. We don't need rituals. We need to be ready. This city...
BEAST BOY (singing quietly):
— "This city"... And there's the speech.
Robin turns, tense.
ROBIN:
— You got something to say, Garfield?
BEAST BOY:
— I call you Garfield when you get intense. And yeah. This is all very heavy and dark and "we're the last heroes standing," but bro, I just turned nineteen. I want to save the world, but I also want to eat pizza sometime without feeling guilty about it.
Raven slams her book shut. Everyone looks at her.
RAVEN:
— Pizza is acceptable.
Silence. That's the most human thing she's said all night.
CYBORG:
— Did Raven just say pizza is acceptable?
STARFIRE:
— What is "pizza"?
Beast Boy grabs his head in horror.
BEAST BOY:
— No. No. This is a real emergency. Starfire doesn't know what pizza is. Robin, forget Batman. We have a crisis.
Robin shakes his head. A tiny smile pushes through the mask. It's the last light moment they'll get for a while.
---
Six armed guards patrol a warehouse on the industrial docks. Within seconds, they're all down—silent, efficient. Deathstroke emerges from the shadows, sheathing his sword. Slade Wilson. Orange and black combat gear. One eye behind a mask.
A corrupt businessman, Viktor Russ—CEO of Russ Industries, military defense contractor—shows him a floating hologram: a Phase-Energy Core, pulsing blue.
VIKTOR:
— That core. It's in S.T.A.R. Labs. Double payment if there's no trace.
DEATHSTROKE:
— Who's the buyer?
VIKTOR:
— Private. Call him the General. Point is he's got money and I need commission.
Deathstroke takes Viktor's tablet and swipes through photos of the Titans—pulled from a security feed. He studies them carefully.
DEATHSTROKE:
— Kids in capes show up, I triple my rate.
VIKTOR:
— Is there additional risk?
DEATHSTROKE:
— Yeah. The risk that I know exactly who your target is. Because when I'm done with the core, I'm done with you. No trace either.
Viktor goes pale. Nods without argument.
DEATHSTROKE:
— Money's half the reason. The other half is those kids gave me clarity: someone's training defenders in this city. I want to know who. And the way to find out is let the General make his move. You corrupt types always talk too much when you think you're winning.
Viktor doesn't understand. But Deathstroke has already turned toward the shadows.
---
The Titans comb through the robbery scene at S.T.A.R. Labs. Shattered glass. Unconscious guards, but stable. Cyborg scans with his arm. Robin studies the floor marks.
CYBORG:
— Whoever did this is good. Real good. These guards are down with surgical precision. No permanent damage. No overkill.
BEAST BOY:
— So a professional. With style. And a code. Perfect. I hate professionals with codes.
ROBIN:
— Why?
BEAST BOY:
— Because you can't bribe them, they don't scare easy, and they beat you up politely. Give me a crazy guy with a chainsaw any day.
Raven pushes aside broken glass with telekinesis and touches the wall.
RAVEN:
— Psychic residue here. Something cold. Methodical. Not a lunatic.
STARFIRE:
— On Tamaran, hired killers bear a mark on their forehead. That's how we know them.
CYBORG:
— Here on Earth they have LinkedIn, Star. Doesn't work the same way.
STARFIRE:
— LinkedIn?
BEAST BOY:
— It's like this Earth ritual where people brag about their jobs. But boring as hell.
Robin pulls a receipt from the broken glass. Holds it up. Frowns.
ROBIN:
— Russ Industries. Military defense contractor.
CYBORG:
— Yeah, Viktor Russ is the CEO. Makes systems for the military. But why'd he pay for an energy core?
ROBIN:
— He didn't. He's middleman. Someone else is behind this. Someone who needs that core for something specific.
A shadow moves on the level above. Robin stops cold. Raises a fist. Everyone goes silent.
CYBORG:
— Plan?
ROBIN:
— We box him in. For real this time. No jokes.
Beast Boy nods, shifting into wolf form. His eyes aren't playful anymore. They're predatory.
ROBIN:
— Now.
---
The Titans spread through the lab's shelving. Deathstroke appears in the center like a ghost. The fight is fast and brutal.
Robin strikes first with a calculated blow. Deathstroke blocks, reads his movements, disarms him briefly. Starfire hurls a Starbolt—Slade dodges by inches, grabs her mid-follow-through, and hurls her into a table. Beast Boy shifts to gorilla form, but a tranquilizer dart finds his neck; he drops unconscious.
Raven tries to pin him with telekinesis. Slade triggers a sonic grenade—a shriek fills the air. Raven clutches her head, concentration shattered.
Only Cyborg stands. His sonic cannon powers up.
CYBORG:
— Not with me, Slade.
Deathstroke smiles behind the mask. Pulls out a black device with three red lights pulsing.
DEATHSTROKE:
— That's why I came prepared.
He triggers the EMP. A blue wave hits Cyborg. Systems shut down: the cybernetic eye flickers, the cannon goes dark. Cyborg drops to his knees, rebooting.
CYBORG:
— Three... damn... seconds.
Deathstroke uses that time to melt into shadow. When Cyborg comes back online, the villain's gone. Only the Titans, beaten, and the echo of a laugh.
ROBIN:
— Five nobodies in costumes.
CYBORG:
— That bastard had an EMP. Who sold him that?
---
SECOND ACT
---
Cyborg works frantically on wrist shields in his workshop at the Tower. Robin studies a city map. A police report came in: retired General Marcus Stone bought an abandoned launch silo three months ago. He has a history with nuclear weapons programs. A Phase-Energy Core can supercharge hypersonic missiles. His goal: restart a defense program that got shut down by international treaty.
ROBIN:
— Russ is just the connection. Real buyer is Stone. He needs that core to arm missiles that were supposed to be destroyed.
CYBORG:
— And Deathstroke?
ROBIN:
— Hunt dog. Someone hired him knowing we'd come running.
Silence. Cyborg stops working.
CYBORG:
— You realize what that means? They know who we are. They know where we are.
ROBIN:
— Yeah. But they don't know what we can do.
Robin continues.
ROBIN:
— Same strategy, but synchronized. I set the pace. Cyborg, you're the hammer. Starfire, ranged support. Beast Boy, ground distraction. Raven, containment.
Raven sits in the corner, shaking. Robin approaches.
ROBIN:
— Raven. You good?
RAVEN:
— I can't use full power. If I do, I don't know what comes out.
ROBIN:
— Then use what you can control. That's enough. It's always enough.
She meets his eyes. Nods.
Cyborg finishes the anti-EMP shields.
CYBORG:
— Done. Next time, the blackout's on him.
---
The Titans arrive coordinated at an abandoned factory at dusk. This time they fight as one unit. Robin signals with hand gestures. Starfire covers from the air, following his rhythm without hesitation. Cyborg and Deathstroke meet in the center.
Blow for blow, Cyborg proves he's the heavy hitter. Raw power. Relentless. Deathstroke backs up, calculating. He can't win one-on-one direct. So the mercenary shifts tactics.
A kick launches Beast Boy—in crocodile form—into an electrical column. Cables spark. Cyborg sees his friend in trouble.
BEAST BOY:
— Cy!
Cyborg hesitates. One second. He abandons his attack on Deathstroke to rip the cables free and save Beast Boy. That second is enough. Deathstroke hits a control panel and a bulkhead slams down between them.
DEATHSTROKE:
— Even the strongest tank stops when you shoot the driver.
Cyborg holds Beast Boy, smoking but grinning weakly.
BEAST BOY:
— Even my hair hurts... and I don't have any.
---
THIRD ACT
---
Cyborg has tracked General Stone's launch silo. The General's about to test a missile that'll fry the coast. They move in fast.
Robin fights with his Kinetrium staff. Slade overpowers him—technique trumps anger. A kick disarms Robin. The staff skids across the floor. Robin hits the ground.
Deathstroke walks over, picks up the staff. Examines it with disdain.
DEATHSTROKE:
— So this is the famous bat-stick. Doesn't look like much.
He slams it against a steel column. The column dents. The staff doesn't even scratch.
Deathstroke frowns. Plants the staff, raises his sword, and brings it down with all his strength. Sparks fly. The sword bounces. The staff stays intact.
Silence. For the first time, Deathstroke looks genuinely impressed.
DEATHSTROKE:
— What the hell is this made of?
Robin, bleeding on the ground, smiles.
ROBIN:
— Something you can't break. And can't buy.
Deathstroke tosses the staff back with contempt.
DEATHSTROKE:
— Get up. Show me what else you got.
Robin grabs the staff. Stands. The fight continues.
It's brutal. Long. Robin swings the Kinetrium staff with precision, but Slade reads him completely. He drops Robin hard and leans in close.
DEATHSTROKE:
— You're a good leader. But without Batman, you're just an orphan with a stick.
Robin grips the staff. Pushes himself up again.
Cyborg advances. No one stops him this time. He fights Deathstroke one-on-one, anti-EMP shields active. His strength is overwhelming. Blow after blow, he shatters Slade's mask—reveals a face carved with scars and one dead eye.
But Slade smiles anyway. He hits a remote.
DEATHSTROKE:
— Choose, Cyborg. Stop me or stop that missile.
The silo doors open. A missile rises, the Phase-Energy Core mounted inside. Countdown begins.
Cyborg looks at Slade. Looks at the missile. The choice is instant.
CYBORG:
— Stop him!
The other four rush Deathstroke. Robin blocks the sword with his staff, Kinetrium absorbing the impact. Starfire smashes a steel beam with a Starbolt. Raven, hands up, nose bleeding from the strain, locks him down with telekinesis.
RAVEN:
— Not... moving.
Robin disarms him. Cyborg reaches the missile at the last second, tears the core from its socket. Silence falls.
Deathstroke on his knees, restrained by Starfire's high-tech cuffs, just looks at Robin and smiles.
DEATHSTROKE:
— This isn't over.
---
Police and federal agents haul Deathstroke away in an armored transport. The camera follows Slade as he's locked into a containment cell.
In another section, retired General Marcus Stone is cuffed. He tries to speak to the agents.
GENERAL STONE:
— Do you know what I would've accomplished? Defense. National security. That core...
FEDERAL AGENT:
— That core belongs to S.T.A.R. Labs. You tried to use weapons prohibited by international treaty. You're done, General.
Stone is loaded into a separate transport. His dream dies with him.
The camera returns to Deathstroke. He sits in his containment cell, looking back directly at the camera—at Robin—and smiles again. Open ending. Dark.
---
The five stand exhausted and wounded in the Tower's main room. Beast Boy is curled on the couch. Cyborg has an arm open for repairs. Starfire hovers low, staring out the window. Raven sits in meditation. Robin watches the dark screen.
Suddenly, long-range comms crackle. The screen lights up. A pre-recorded message from Batman. Heavy interference.
BATMAN (voice-over, with interference):
— Dick... The League is down. Couldn't take him clean. We're going in anyway. We're not coming back. The Tower is yours now. Keep it safe.
Complete silence. The screen goes dark.
Close-ups of every face. Shock. Pain. Disbelief. Beast Boy slowly sits up. Starfire stops hovering—her feet touch ground for the first time. Raven's eyes open. Cyborg's fist clenches.
The five stand small against the massive dark screen. The camera pulls back slowly. A distant siren wails across the city.
---
END