Chapter 9: The Unseen Ally

The safehouse buzzed with tension, a makeshift war room lit by flickering fluorescents. Kai paced near a cracked window, the morpher's glow casting jittery shadows on the wall. Nightwing hunched over a laptop, pulling STAR Labs files, while Raven meditated in a corner, her quiet chants humming like static. Gar and Donna bickered over the last pizza slice—Gar waving it like a flag, Donna threatening to snap it in half—until Nightwing shot them a look that shut them up. Kai barely noticed, his mind snagged on the Seekers, Eclipso's red eyes, and Kaelric's death looping like a broken record.

He stopped, staring at the morpher. It'd been silent since the fight, but it knew more—had to. "Alright, you," he muttered, tapping the crystal. "You dragged me into this mess. Give me something useful."

"Memory sync requested," it hummed, voice clear in his head. "Accessing host archives."

The room dissolved. Kai stood in a stone hall, cold and cavernous, torchlight dancing on walls draped with banners—green and silver, a serpent coiled around a sword. His hands—Kaelric's hands—were rough, scarred, gripping a shard that pulsed green, raw power thrumming through it like a living thing. Armor clinked as he moved, chainmail heavy but familiar, the weight of a knight's oath pressing on his shoulders. Before him loomed a king—tall, broad, a crown of iron glinting atop greasy black hair. His eyes were dark, greedy, and a sword hung at his hip, stained with rust or blood.

"You'd defy me for this trinket?" the king sneered, stepping closer, his velvet cloak dragging on the stone. "I made you, Kaelric. The Grid's power is mine by right."

Kaelric's voice—Kai's, but older, harder—cut back like steel. "It's no one's to claim. The Grid protects, not conquers. You've twisted it—turned it into a weapon." The shard flared, green light washing the hall, and shadows shifted—guards in dark armor, hands on hilts, loyal to the crown. The king smirked, raising his blade, and Kaelric moved—sword clashing in a shower of sparks. He was fast, precise, cutting down two guards, but a third slipped behind, dagger flashing. Pain seared his back, hot and sharp, and he stumbled. The king lunged, snatching the shard as Kaelric fell, laughter echoing as the light dimmed.

Kai jolted back, gasping, clutching his chest where the phantom dagger lingered. The safehouse snapped into focus—Gar mid-bite, Donna frozen, Raven's eyes wide and glowing, sensing the shift. "What did you see?" she asked, floating closer, her voice a thread of calm in the storm.

"My past," Kai said, voice ragged. He sank onto a crate, pizza forgotten. "I was a knight—Kaelric. Guarded something called the Grid. A king stole it, killed me for it. That guy out there—" he jabbed a thumb toward the window, "—feels the same. Greedy. Wrong."

Raven's hood slipped back slightly, revealing a frown. "Corrupted energy. A pattern across time. The Grid's power draws those who'd abuse it."

"Like a magnet," Donna said, leaning on her staff. "Explains why they're obsessed with you."

Nightwing closed his laptop, face grim. "If that king's anything like these Seekers, they're not stopping until they crack your morpher open."

Kai rubbed his wrist, the cracked crystal catching the light. "Awesome. Any chance it comes with an off switch?"

Gar snorted, shifting into a green parrot and perching on a beam. "Nah, man. You're stuck with the cool toy curse."

A sharp knock rattled the door. Nightwing tensed, hand on an escrima stick, then waved the others down as Red Hood strode in—followed by a figure that made Kai's jaw drop. Tall, pale, sharp cheekbones, a black trench coat hiding scars and a sword at his hip. Deathstroke. Slade Wilson. The room went live-wire tense—Donna gripped her staff, Gar squawked and shifted back, Raven's hands glowed black, ready to strike.

"Stand down," Red Hood said, hands up, helmet tilting. "He's not here to bleed us. Yet."

Slade smirked, voice silky and sharp. "Charming welcome. The Grid Seekers hit a contract of mine—stole a payout I'd earned. I don't take kindly to thieves out-thieving me."

"Why help?" Donna snapped, staff poised like she'd ram it through his chest.

"They crossed a line," Slade said, leaning against the wall, casual but coiled. "Enemy of my enemy, princess. Your boy's glowstick—" he nodded at Kai, "—is their holy grail. I know where they're holing up."

Nightwing crossed his arms, eyes narrow. "And we trust you why?"

"You don't," Slade said, smirk widening. "But I'm your best shot at cracking their nest."

Kai's morpher pulsed. "Alliance viable. Caution advised. Tactical advantage: 73%."

Nightwing glanced at Kai. "You buying this?"

"No," Kai said, honest. "But if he's right, we're out of options."

"Location," Nightwing said, not breaking Slade's gaze.

"Old steel mill, east side," Slade replied, tapping his eyepatch absently. "Tomorrow night. They're rigging something big. Bring the kid—they'll swarm like flies."

He turned, vanishing into the dark like he'd never been there. Gar whistled, low. "Dude, your life's a freaking comic book."

Kai didn't laugh. Kaelric's king had allies too—until the dagger hit. Trust was a gamble, and Slade's dice looked loaded. But the Seekers weren't waiting, and neither could he.