Being Titans II | Teen Titans [7]

Prologue

Carnage. Destruction all around him. The sky was falling. Meteors the color of his child's eyes rained to the ground. The tremors resonated within his bones, forcing his fingers to mimic the trembling. His eyes flitted about.

The entire Tower had caved. 19 floors of cement reduced to piles of debris. Where are they? That was all that went through Alister's mind as he scavenged the wreckage. Charred plaster assaulted his nostrils.

He listened to the activity around him, separating each sound once identified. Distant screams, burning trees, popping fiberglass, rushing water from the cavern below.

Then he heard them. Several heartbeats—some faint and others racing. He could see them shutter in his mind. Each beat was a flicker of light. Every second, another light went out.

He scoped the boy in panic. His bloody, torn, wing first. Then he followed the trail of mangled feathers upward. "Snow!" He cried out.

Alister trampled through debris. He rushed toward the boy. His body was left contorted on a charred stage. It rested atop the bulk of the debris. The frame of the building curled into a semicircle around it.

Just as his heart started to shatter, he noticed more bodies. Krypto and 2 other teens. He couldn't hear Krypto's heart anymore. "Oh Krypto," He whispered.

Zach laid face-first in the debris. His heart was beating, but at an inhuman pace. Alister couldn't discern any injuries. Nor did he seem possessed. Given the rubble that once stood a valiant tower, perhaps Mordru had taken what he needed and left. Perhaps he'd taken Abel.

His eyes flitted to the other teen. Their blue dreadlocks were soaked in Snow's blood. Along with their familiar super suit. Smoke rose from their chest. It hid their eyes.

Despite the smoke, the teen was familiar. Alister didn't know why—he just felt it. A gasp clawed down his throat. "Vosh?" He whispered. It can't be. Aesir sacrificed his life to take Supernova out. That had to mean something.

Snow needed him. He dropped to his knees beside the boy's curled body. "Please don't let me be too late." He prayed silently.

He grimaced at the state of his son. His wings were halfway torn off. A thick ocean of blood had spread beneath his body. His toffee skin held little vibrance to it—dulling to a deeper gray as the seconds passed. His heart barely pumped.

"No," Alister hissed. "No, you aren't dying. You aren't dying, Snow, do you hear me?" He pressed his hands against the boy's wounds and shut his eyes.

His cosmic armor encased his fingers. A soft golden glow warmed them. Wisps of light trickled into Snow's wounds.

A sweet warmth soothed the excruciating pain. His bones snapped back into place. Mangled feathers dripped off his wings as his skin stitched back together. Snow whimpered.