[Third Person's PoV]
Dinah looked around at the destruction that surrounded her, the upturn ground, the molten lava, her eyes shook momentarily as flashes of what she did in her dragon form flickered through her mind like a slideshow.
She raised a trembling hand to her mouth, fighting the nauseous swell rising in her throat. Guilt clawed at her insides, threatening to choke her. But her attention was quickly pulled downward, toward the still body cradled gently in her arms.
Danny.
Her eyes widened slightly. His appearance had changed—his snow-white hair was now pitch black, his face obscured by a dark domino mask. His usual neon green blood had turned crimson, oozing down his face and staining his clothes in stark contrast.
"I thought he was supposed to be... dead?" Dinah thought, a mixture of confusion and unease creeping into her chest. But she didn't have time to ponder it further. He was injured—seriously—and needed medical attention immediately. The questions could wait. His life could not.
Shifting her grip, she carefully lifted him once more, his unconscious body limp but still clutching tightly onto the amulet that had been the cause of her transformation. The cursed artifact was nestled in his hand as if it refused to be let go, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. Her grip on him tightened protectively.
"I need to get him to Batman," she told herself. "And fast."
The only problem was that she had no phone, no communicator, no way to reach out for help. She was alone.
…
Minutes later the moon hung high in the sky as Dinah made her way back toward the city. She had eventually decided to carry Danny on her back, giving her arms rest.
Danny's limp arms dangled over her shoulders, his head resting weakly against her neck. He was still unconscious, but his grip on the amulet hadn't slackened one bit.
Her heel scraped against the pavement as she hurried along the deserted road, scanning for any signs of communication or boom tubes—but she found nothing.
That was when it happened.
A sharp sound sliced through the air, and before she could react, she was surrounded. Figures stepped out of the shadows—silent, deadly, and all too familiar. Members of the League of Assassins, each one dressed in dark armor, wielding gleaming weapons with an air of cold professionalism.
They didn't move toward her immediately, but their eyes were locked on one thing: the amulet in Danny's hand.
Dinah scowled. "Why do I get the feeling that if I ask you all to politely leave, you wouldn't comply?"
One of the assassins stepped forward, twirling twin sickles with unsettling ease. "Hand over the amulet, and we'll let you live," he said, his voice low and threatening.
Dinah narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, right. You psychos will kill us either way. Who are you trying to fool?"
Despite her bravado, her heart was pounding. Her hands clenched onto Danny as she subtly looked around, mentally mapping every possible escape route. She couldn't fight at full capacity while carrying Danny. He was vulnerable, and she couldn't risk him getting hurt further.
'I can't take them all head-on. I need time. I need space. I need a damn plan…'
The assassin chuckled darkly. "It seems you know our ways. Still, you get to choose… whether your death will be painless… or agonizing."
Dinah's eyes gleamed with defiance. "I see… Then in that case—"
She bolted.
The League of Assassins was momentarily stunned by the sudden action, but it didn't take long for them to pursue her, fanning out like wolves on the hunt.
Dinah sprinted through the city streets, her breath coming fast. Shurikens and knives zipped past her, slicing through the air with deadly precision, she expertly dodged, her sharp ears listening to the whistle of the wind. She weaved through alleys, ducked under fire escapes, and vaulted over trash bins. The added weight of Danny made her slower, more vulnerable, but she didn't stop.
She caught a glimpse of their shadows reflected in shop windows and car mirrors. Some pursued her on foot, others ran across rooftops or scaled the sides of buildings like spiders.
Turning sharply into a narrow alleyway, she hoped to lose some of them in the confined space. As the assassins began to close in, she stopped, planting her feet and puffing out her chest. She was about to unleash her Canary Cry—
But before she could, an arrow zipped past her shoulder and struck the upper wall.
Boom!
The explosion rocked the alleyway. A shower of bricks and concrete rained down, catching several of the assassins by surprise and burying them beneath the debris.
Dinah's eyes widened, her lips curling into a stunned smile.
More arrows followed—dozens of them, each precise, each different. Some exploded on impact, knocking out enemies in bursts of fire. Others exploded into sticky, slime-like substances that entangled limbs and weapons, rendering their victims immobile.
She turned to look across the street, to the rooftop above.
There, perched with calculated grace, was a hooded figure clad in forest green. A quiver full of arrows slung over his back, and a bow drawn tight in his gloved hands. His expression was unreadable beneath the shadow of his hood, but his aim was steady.
Green Arrow.
As Dinah stepped cautiously out of the narrow alley, her heel crunching against the broken bricks and debris, the hooded figure perched above, shooting another expertly aimed arrow. This one was different. A thin, high-tensile tether was attached to the shaft, anchoring itself firmly to a wall across the street.
Without missing a beat, Green Arrow slung his bow over the zipline and slid down with practiced ease, landing gracefully beside Dinah. The relief on his face was immediate.
"Ollie," Dinah exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly, "I've never been so happy to see you."
"First off," Green Arrow replied with a smirk as he pulled back his hood slightly, "secret identity, Canary. Let's keep up the mystery. And second—ouch. That's not the most flattering compliment I've ever received."
Despite his teasing tone, his expression softened into something much warmer—relief, tenderness, and a flicker of worry. "But yeah... same here. I was seriously starting to freak out." He gently cupped Dinah's face in both hands, checking her over before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
"AHEM!"
The voice cut through the moment like a dagger. Both heroes jumped and turned sharply to see Robin, standing with his arms folded, a clear gash on his cheek and several scuff marks on his armor.
"You know," Robin began dryly, "while I love a good romance as much as the next guy, maybe let's not start stripping in the middle of a street while my friend is bleeding out on your back?"
Dinah winced and quickly shifted Danny's weight. "Right. Robin. Sorry. Danny's seriously hurt. We need to get him to a hospital—or Batman. It's my fault—"
Robin waved her off with a grimace. "Yeesh. Save the guilt trip for later. No one's blaming you, and I'm definitely not in the mood for a pity party. Just hand him over. I'll make sure he gets treated"
Dinah gently transferred Danny to Robin, careful not to jostle the boy too much. Robin took him with surprising ease, adjusting the unconscious teen so his weight was evenly balanced across his back—just as Dinah had done earlier.
With Danny secured, Robin lifted his grappling hook, aimed it high, and fired. The line snagged a rooftop edge, and with a brief nod to Green Arrow and Dinah, he was whisked into the sky. "You two hold off any more assassins. I'll get him to safety."
…
Robin touched down on a darkened rooftop and laid Danny gently against the side of a large ventilation unit. The hum of the city surrounded them, but the area itself was momentarily still. He reached into one of the compartments on his utility belt and retrieved a small glass capsule—smelling salts.
Snapping it in half, he held the broken vial just under Danny's nose.
Danny jolted awake with a startled gasp. "I may be injured, but I know karate!"
Robin snorted despite himself and quickly pressed his hands down on Danny's shoulders to keep him from lashing out.
"Okay, okay, calm down, Mr. Black Belt. No one's attacking you. Just breathe. Can you—can you transform back?" he asked, checking Danny's eyes for focus.
Danny blinked several times, his pupils dilating and contracting erratically as he took in his surroundings. His gaze flicked over Robin, confused and uncertain.
"Danny…" Robin said carefully, reaching out.
But the boy flinched at his touch and instinctively withdrew, clutching the amulet still clenched tightly in his hand. He tilted his head in confusion.
"I'm sorry," Danny said slowly, voice uncertain and low. "But… who are you?"
Robin froze.
"What?" he asked, his voice nearly cracking.
"And who's Danny? Is that supposed to be my name or something?" Danny asked, eyebrows knitting together in bewilderment.
Robin's hand fell limply to his side. His mouth opened and closed before he pressed a hand against it in disbelief.
'No. No, no, no. Damn it… Did that fight with the dragon cause him to lose his memory?!'
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