Chapter 5: Meta Brawl pt. II

Word Count : 9496

Sorry for the late update, folks, I've been quite busy lately with my studies (first year in college, after all), but I finally managed to finish another chapter! Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 5: Meta Brawl pt. II

Another kick came flying at Krieg, and he just barely dodged it. But the attacker was faster than expected and struck again. Krieg blocked a fist, nearly got swept off his feet, sidestepped a kick, blocked a second kick and dodged yet another fist. He struck out with an attack of his own, but his opponent grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him off balance before landing quite a painful blow to his stomach. He staggered back from the blow, feeling like keeling over and emptying his stomach, but he repressed the feeling and charged again. His body was drenched in sweat underneath his uniform, his muscles hurt like never before and the numerous swells and bruises adorning him were a constant reminder of his ineptitude.

He was just not good enough. Not strong enough, not fast enough, not even skilled enough. Made horribly clear in this moment as no matter how fast he struck, his opponent was just faster. As yet another punch overextended him, his opponent grabbed hold of that arm, flipped Krieg over her shoulder and slammed him with all her might into the floor. Every inch of breath was expunged from his lung by that blow, but he still climbed back to his feet. He was not giving up, not until he was dead would he give up. Which might be sooner than he hoped considering he was barely standing as it was. With wobbly steps, he charged yet again, and received yet another trashing before getting slammed back to the floor again.

"That's enough," his opponent ordered sternly while he was in the midst of crawling back up. Krieg ignored the statement and managed to fight his way back up on his feet, and he was off again. This time he never even got a chance to strike before he was swept off his feet and slammed face first to the floor. Yet still he persisted and tried to push himself back up. He did not get far before a weight on his back pushed him down again and his arms were trapped in an arm lock behind his back.

"I said that's enough," his opponent repeated more forcefully as she kept him pinned to the floor, "You've been training non-stop since daybreak already. You need to rest," if that was meant to make him more compliant, it sure as hell was not working in this instance.

"I don't have time to rest, Black Canary. I need more training," he retorted with that same monotone he was always using. But she did not relent and let him up, only tightening her hold on him.

"What you're doing is not training. You're just punishing yourself," she pointed out. Krieg may have lacked an extensive ability to express emotions of any kind, but he would be lying if he were to say that present circumstances were not grating on his nerves.

"That is irrelevant at this point. If I am going to have a chance in the Meta Brawls, I will need all the training I can get," Krieg countered. It should have been obvious to Black Canary. He had no superpowers, and the drillmasters back on Krieg had never given him and his fellow comrades an in-depth training in hand-to-hand combat, focusing more on weapon training. But here, he was prohibited from killing and thus had to rely on martial arts to incapacitate his opponents.

Because of this, he needed to train harder than ever before to reach the necessary levels required to survive in this war against crime he was partaking in. and while Black Canary was a formidable opponent and a very good teacher, he lamented over the fact that Batman was not training him. For he seemed to have something this woman lacked. The mindset to keep pushing on, no matter what. As illustrated here, Black Canary wanted him to quit his training because of some silly notion that he needed rest and recuperation.

Idiocy at its finest. Time was of the essence here. There was no time for such luxuries. His physical needs and wellbeing were of no concern at the moment, the mission was. Surely Batman would have realized it and not wasted time on such folly as Black Canary was doing now. He once again tried to push her off of him, but his exhausted body was no match for her, and he remained where he was.

"Keled," Okay, she must have been far more serious than he had expected if she used his real name, "I hereby order you to cease all of your training," now that, in Krieg's opinion, was playing very dirty. She knew full well he could not disobey a direct order like that. And in an uncharacteristic move on his part, he actually started to protest.

"But…"

"No buts, young man," she interrupted him harshly, "You will take a break, get something to eat and drink, rest up your muscles and you will not under any circumstances partake in anything that involves physical strain without my explicit permission. Do I make myself clear?" while Krieg would have loved to tell that xeno loving mutant just where she could shove her orders, it was not his place to disobey a direct order.

"Yes ma'am," he finally relented. And even though he could not see her face from his position, there was never a shred of doubt in his mind that she was smiling victoriously at him.

"Good. And just so we're clear, if I catch you training behind my back, I'll drag you all the way to the infirmary, strap you down to a bed and spoon feed you until you've recovered," in Krieg's opinion, she sounded far too cheerful when she said that tidbit of information. So with her threat delivered, she finally got off of him and offered a hand to help him back up, an act of kindness that was fully ignored by Krieg who struggled back up on his own. It seemed that with her point hammered in, Black Canary dropped her stern attitude in favor of a more concerned look.

"Look, I understand how you're feeling like you're not good enough. Normally, I would even commend you for your dedication, but pushing yourself to the brink of death like this won't do you any good. It'll only end up hurting you in the end," she tried to reason with him. Krieg heard her words, listened to the wisdom they held. But then he just discarded it when he came to the conclusion that her ideas would be counterproductive to his training. He did not bother with voicing his thoughts on the matter. He was going to obey her orders to the letter, that was enough for him.

It was at that moment that the doors to the Hall of Justice gym they were training in opened up and Batman entered. Mentally, Krieg was relieved by his arrival. Batman only approached Krieg in person when he had important matters to discuss with him, a refreshing experience compared to the vast majority of the Justice League. For they had the aggravating habit of constantly interfering with his duties for no apparent reason other than that they wanted to talk with him about irrelevant topics that often circulated around civilian matters.

"Good, you're both here," Batman began, but Krieg had the feeling that Batman already knew they would both be present before he even stepped through the door, "While I do not like the situation you've placed yourself in, Krieg, I expect you to return with results when you get back. Black Canary, you will be there as support should the need arise," straight to the point as always. Good, meant they could start sooner.

"Krieg, you may be officially fighting to entertain the crowd, but you're still not allowed to kill anyone," and there was the only fault he could find in Batman, his unwillingness to do what was necessary. Where he had developed this delusion of not killing, Krieg neither knew nor wanted to know. He naturally assumed that this small meeting was over, but he was proven wrong when Batman offered something to him.

"Given the situation, I felt that you might need some extra precaution," he clarified, as if he knew that Krieg had a look of confusion underneath his gasmask. But his statement still left Krieg in a state of confusion, for in contrast to his earlier order, Batman was holding out a gun for him.

"I thought I was not allowed to kill," Krieg said as he accepted the weapon and examined it carefully. It was definitively not of any model he was familiar with. The overall shape was reminiscent to a Desert Eagle, but it weighted far less than the real deal. It even had a small infrared scope attached to it.

"That's a modified firearm you're holding. It fires tranquilizer darts instead of regular bullets. There is of course a wide variety of ammunition you can fire with that gun, but all are non-lethal," Batman explained more thoroughly. While Krieg was not overly joyed by the fact that he was prohibited from using live ammo, he did feel a small sense of content of once again holding a tool that he was familiar with. Now it was just about waiting for the evening to begin, along with his mission.

The roar of the audience was the first that greeted Krieg as he entered Meta Brawl through one of the backdoors. Black Canary had already snuck in among the audience, so that left Krieg alone to do the dirty work. Just the way he preferred it. Word of his arrival must have spread faster than he expected, for he had barely been present for five minutes before that lanky man, whose name Krieg never even bothered trying to remember, came running up to him.

"Good to see that you made it! We currently have a fight going, but once they're finished, you're up," he announced cheerfully, to which Krieg only gave a faint nod. The fact that he had to endure this man's presence was good enough, he was not going to start up a conversation with him. So without uttering another word, he strode past the slimy little man and went to the locker rooms used by the combatants. He never reached his destination before he found his path blocked by seven individuals, fellow participants if their costumes were anything to go by.

"So you're the newcomer that floored Pain, eh? Can't honestly say that I'm impressed by what I'm seeing right now," the one at the front, a big brute of a man wearing a luchador wrestler themed costume, commented. 'A possible suspect,' Krieg mentally noted to himself.

"You're in my way," he replied monotonously. For reasons that escaped Krieg's understanding, most of these buffoons found his comment amusing as they laughed at him.

"What's the matter, kid? Don't like to hang around us?" another one, a girl this time with flowing green hair wearing a matching bodysuit, asked mockingly. "Female, too small body to match the description, no suspect," Krieg noted about her.

"No," was his answer to her question as he tried walking past the group, only to be stopped by a stick thin boy hanging from the roof upside down. The filthy mutant had the nerve to grin at him wickedly while their faces were only a few inches apart, displaying his razor sharp teeth.

"Not so fast, tough guy. You see, since you're new here, we felt that some ground rules were needed here," the filth said with that twisted smile still in place before he flipped over and landed on the floor on his feet. A sudden urge to plant a knife in the creature's throat came over Krieg at that moment, but he reluctantly suppressed it. Absentmindedly, he noticed that the other six were forming a semi-circle around him and the wall crawling one. Wait, not everyone, one of their numbers were leaning against the wall a distance away. His body, swelled to the brim by muscles underneath the black shirt and pants he was wearing, made him yet another suspect in Krieg's eye.

"Firstly, we've been in this business way longer than you. So outside the ring, you better do what we tell you," the mutant spoke, but Krieg was not listening to a single word spoken. He was instead scrutinizing the group surrounding him. There was another woman present beyond the green haired one, decked out in ninja garbs and wearing a mengu mask.

"Secondly, given that you're a newbie, we expect you not to try and steal the spotlight from us," there was also someone who Krieg had a hard time determining gender on. Long black hair cascaded down the back of this one, obscuring half his/her face. What parts of the face Krieg could see looked exactly like that of a young woman, but the flat chest made him doubt.

"Thirdly, failure to comply with the aforementioned rules will result in your ass getting kicked. Are there any questions, or have I made myself clear to you?" the last one was clearly a man, but that was all he could discern about him. From head to toe, his body was encased in silver armor, the only openings being two holes for his eyes and a few springs to let him breathe. And so, with his analysis done, Krieg decided it was time to move on. But first, he had to give an adequate answer to the thing still blocking his path.

His answer was a sudden kick between his legs and followed up by a blow to the head that sent him to the floor a whimpering mess. But he was not done yet, not by a longshot. With no remorse or hesitation, he placed a boot on the boy's back, grabbed hold of both his arms, bent them as far back as humanly possible and then tore them out of their sockets. The boy's shriek of pain was audible through the entire all, but was quickly drowned out by cheers from the crowd outside. 'Annoying pest,' Krieg thought as he released the pathetic thing wailing like a babe. He let his eyes slowly travel over each one present, challenging them to dare confront him now. None did, so he swiftly turned his back to them and strode away.

Had he been more observant, he would have noticed that the entire event had been discreetly observed by a certain one eyed individual from the end of the hall. Said man's only reaction to Krieg's brutal action was an approving nod before he seemingly melted into the shadows.

As Krieg was about to enter the locker room, he hoped that he would get some peace and quiet now before he had to step into the cage, but his wish was turned to ash when the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor shook the entire building. Either the loser weighted far more than a human had the right to, or the winner had super strength. Hopefully it was the former. Barely a minute later, that lanky man came running with a smile on his face.

"Alright, you're up next, Krieg," he announced cheerfully. Krieg said not a single word, but altered his course towards the fight arena. The cheers of the vulgar crowd was the first thing that greeted him as he entered, followed closely by Roulette's introduction.

"And here he is. Ready to rumble yet again, Krieg! Will his luck from last time hold out, or will he meet his end against his newest opponent?" as she prattled on about Emperor knows what, Krieg tuned her out and focused all his attention on the woman standing opposite him. Hair trimmed until it was all but nonexistent on her scalp, Amazonian muscles bulging on her bare arms and legs, vicious scar running across her snarling face. She was the very image of a battle hardened soldier. 'This will be interesting,' Krieg thought, for unlike those brainless abominations he ran into earlier, this one had a look in her eyes that said she had something useful behind that forehead of hers and knew how to use it.

"FIGHT!" and the fight commenced. The woman was instantly in motion, advancing on Krieg in a zigzag path. But Krieg himself remained motionless. Like a cobra, he was waiting for his prey to come closer. And when she finally was within range, he struck by rushing her like a mad bull. The distance between them was too short for the woman to do anything but brace herself as Krieg slammed into her shoulder first. She got the wind knocked out of her, but was quick to retaliate with a fist that knocked him back.

A spinning kick suddenly came at Krieg's head, forcing him to duck before sidestepping a punch. A retaliatory punch forced her back and Krieg pushed on with a flurry of boxing blows that she either dodged or blocked. But he was caught off guard when she dropped underneath his guard and came up with a haymaker that knocked him flat on his back. Stars spun in his line of sight for a few precious seconds, but years of combat training kicked in and he rolled clear of a drop kick that would have crushed his windpipe.

Pushing himself back up again, he struck out with a kick that she dodged, but left her unable to duck the sudden uppercut that nailed her straight in her stomach. A silent gasp of pain flew out of her mouth before Krieg grabbed her while she was doubled over and slammed her head into the metal cage. He aimed to repeat the procedure until she was out cold, but she firmly grasped the bars with her hands before lifting her legs up and wrapping them around his head. Muscles bulged as she squeezed her thighs together with the intent of strangling Krieg.

A sudden lack of oxygen caused Krieg to furiously pound her body with his fists. And even though his blows no doubt hurt like hell, given how her face scrunched up in pain, she refused to let go. His vision began to blacken as his empty lungs tried to suck in any shred of air they could get with no success. An idea suddenly struck him and he began to fumble to get his helmet off. When he got it off, he slammed it as hard as he could repeatedly into her. That seemed to do the trick, as her hold slackened and he managed to slip out. Both of them ended up collapsing on the floor battered and worn out. Like a diver breaching the surface, Krieg took in greedy gulps of air as he tried to gather his strength again. Luckily, his opponent was doing the same thing while massaging her battered stomach.

Around them, the roar of the audience grew louder and louder as they wanted more action. While Krieg would have very much appreciated the chance to silence their filthy mouths forever, he still stood back up. Seeing him getting ready to fight again, the woman stood back up as well. But Krieg gave her no time to recover and charged. She ducked under an elbow, rolled clear of a vicious kick and stepped back to avoid a savage punch. With some distance between them, she leaped at him again, tackling him into the bars. But he rammed his knee between her legs. While it was not as vulnerable as on a male, it still hurt and forced her back.

Krieg was on the move in no time and struck out with a kick, a punch, an elbow, another kick, a trio of punches and a sweeping kick. She was able to block all those except the last attack that swept her off her feet. A powerful stomp from his boot would have crushed her head had she not grabbed hold of it and pushed Krieg back. He nearly fell over, but balanced himself and attacked again just as she rolled back up again. Sidestepping a kick, she darted forth and slammed both fists into his stomach. But he ignored the pain and struck her in the back with an elbow, causing her to stumble forward before he spun around and delivered a punch that sent her flying to the ground.

She tried to stand back up again, but Krieg stomped down hard on her back. Yet still she persisted on getting back up to resume fighting. Had they not been enemies, Krieg would have respected that in her, but now her stubbornness was just a hindrance to him. So he delivered a kick to her side that flipped her over on her back, lifted up one of her legs and stomped on her knee. It shattered with an audible crack and Krieg bent it in a 90 degree angle, in the wrong direction.

No roars of approval were heard this time from the audience as they openly gawked at the brutal finishing move Krieg had just dealt out. The stunned silence, which was only broken by the woman's wails of pain, was a welcoming change for Krieg, it meant that these bloated heretics were not completely selfish. Sadly, that thought was shattered when someone started clapping, followed by more people. In no time, the audience was cheering him yet again, and Krieg felt his hand subconsciously twitch towards his hidden gun. With a sneer hidden behind his gasmask, he strode out of the cage, leaving his opponent to be attended by the group of medics rushing past him.

Though just before he disappeared from the audience's sight, he briefly found Black Canary seated close to the arena exit. And if that dark look she was giving him was any form of indication, she had plenty that she wanted to discuss with Krieg about. None of which would be pleasant for him. But he found something else to occupy his mind when he entered the locker room, for there was already someone else there, waiting for him. Long white hair tied back in a ponytail, white beard and mustache and an eye patch covering his right eye. Those were the most defining features of this man.

But even as the man sat slouched on bench, Krieg was never under any kind of delusion that this man was harmless. He could not fully place it, but being near this man was setting off alarm bells in his head, telling him to be on guard. Krieg was never one to ignore his instincts, so he carefully kept his distance and never let his eyes stray from the man as he entered and closed the door behind him.

"Quite a performance you gave out there. No doubt it will make you quite notorious around here," the man spoke up. Whether he was complimenting Krieg or not, he neither knew nor cared as he eyed the man suspiciously.

"Identify yourself," Krieg ordered as he drew his gun. The man was not a known Justice League member, nor was he one of Roulette's henchmen. The missing eye told the tale of someone used to combat, so it was best to be cautious when dealing with him. The man held up his hands in a peaceful gesture, a gesture that was wasted on Krieg.

"I'm not here to harm you," the man assured Krieg. Had he been a more expressive person, he would have snorted at that claim. Being who he was, he just raised the gun and aimed it at the man's chest. Words meant little to Krieg, for they could easily be used to lie and deceit someone.

"If you do not have immediate business with me, then leave," Krieg said. Dancing around an issue was never his way, so he would just approach it bluntly. The man just chuckled at his attempt at authority.

"Not very trusting of strangers, are you?" he asked humorously.

"You have not given me a reason to trust you so far," Krieg answered monotonously. A shrug was what he received from the man.

"True, but what reason would you have to be on guard against a humble old man, who could possibly not pose a threat to you?" he inquired with a small level of curiosity. Krieg was quick to counter that claim.

"Old you may be, but that does not make you any less dangerous," he countered, gun still aimed at the old man. Rather than be on guard, or even feel threatened, the man just smiled at Krieg.

"Smart move. You have no idea how many idiots who've fallen for that ruse," he commented in amusement. Krieg did not budge in the least.

"Last warning. Either tell me what you're doing here or leave," Normally, Krieg would have never even given a first warning, but he could not jeopardize the mission by starting a brawl here. Nevertheless, he would use force if the old man did not back down.

"And why should I?" he asked lightly, as if he was completely untroubled by the current events. Krieg had never been much of a patient person, and what little he had to begin with had just evaporated. Without so much as a millisecond's thought, he pulled the trigger. But to his utter amazement, the old man actually dodged the dart. And with superhuman speed, he had drawn a concealed gun and aimed it at Krieg. A tense standoff ensued, were both waited to see who would pull the trigger first.

"Hm, interesting," the old man mused out loud, "Judging by the lack of a bang when you pulled the trigger, and the fact that I never heard the telltale sound of a bullet hitting steel, I can only assume that you're not loaded with lethal bullets. More likely tranquil darts, if my intuition serves me right," here, his earlier inquisitive look turned a bit more accusing, "But that shot. Had I not dodged it, it would have hit me in the heart, or close enough that I would die in a matter of minutes. You meant for it to be a kill shot,"

Why the man was wasting time pointing out the obvious, Krieg had absolutely no idea. A small chuckle came out of the old man as he rose to his full height, still aiming his gun at Krieg.

"Put a leash on a lion, and it will still be a lion," he mused out loud. An eyebrow was raised from behind Krieg's mask.

"Is your blabbering supposed to distract me?" he asked monotonously.

"No such thing. Just thinking out loud here," the old man answered truthfully. He suddenly began moving, slowly edging around Krieg. Neither of them lowered their guns during this, and both had their eyes firmly locked on each other.

"Well I must say, this has been an interesting visit, but I must be going now," the old man spoke up, a smile starting to form on his face. His response produced a frown from Krieg.

"Are you planning on walking out of here without revealing your reason for bothering me?" he questioned as he moved to block his path. This man just screamed dangerous, and Krieg was not letting him leave that easily, not without answering him at least.

"If you're so eager to know, I merely wished to meet you, face to face, without outside interference," the old man answered. But before Krieg could even begin to formulate another word, the old man struck with surprising speed. He grasped Krieg's arm holding the gun and performed a judo throw on him, slamming Krieg into the floor. Sudden pain radiated through his entire spine, but he ignored it and struck out with a kick that forced his opponent back before flipping himself up on his feet. But by that time, the old man had already fled through the door.

He briefly considered chasing after him, but discarded the idea. His mission was to locate the robber, not go chasing after old men. So with an irritated grunt, he holstered his gun and stretched his battered spine. But as he took a seat, hoping to catch some time recovering before getting thrown out into the ring again, the sound of rapid footsteps taken with the grace of an elephant could be heard approaching. He was up from his seat, straight as a steel pipe, in record time. He already knew who would walk in long before said person even opened the door and stepped in.

"Black Canary," he greeted her as she closed the door behind her. He had expected that she demand a report on his progress so far, but when she rounded on him, she had a furious look in her eyes that spelled trouble.

"Just what the hell did you think you were doing out there?" she demanded of him, her voice deceptively calm. This was most certainly not how he expected their conversation to start, not by a longshot.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked in confusion. That harmless question seemed to spike her anger even further.

"Don't play dumb with me, kid! You know damn well what you did wrong here!" her voice was now starting to rise in level, being just a few octaves below screaming. If that was meant clear matters up for Krieg, they sure failed monumentally.

"I'm afraid that I truly do not grasp what I did wrong," he answered truthfully. Had he not finished the fight fast enough? Had he been supposed to kill his opponent after all?

"You broke her leg, dammit!" Black Canary finally stated. Yet still Krieg had trouble seeing just what he did wrong.

"I fail to see the trouble in my action," he admitted straight faced. Her look of anger towards him now also received a small tint of disbelief at his admission.

"You had already beaten her, you did not need to be so brutal towards her. For crying out loud, you broke her leg! Doctors say it will be months before she recovers!"

"I still fail to see the trouble," Krieg said with an unconcerned shrug. Black Canary was by now gaping like a fish at his answer. Krieg truly tried to grasp what she was so displeased about, but came up empty no matter how he twisted and turned the matter. But even as curiosity ate away at him, he still dutifully stood at attention and awaited her next words.

"We don't do that kind of thing. We fight only to incapacitate our enemy, not beat on them when they're already defeated," she clarified to him. Behind his gasmask, Krieg's brows furrowed in annoyance. He was already restricting himself by not killing his opponents, was that not enough for the buffoons?

"She was determined to continue the fight, I merely made sure that it would not be possible for her," he defended himself. However, that excuse was not enough to escape Black Canary's ire.

"That's not how heroes act! We try to restrain ourselves, otherwise we're no better than those we fight!" she pointed out, emphasizing by poking him hard in the chest.

"I did restrain myself out there by not killing her," Krieg countered calmly, "Now I must remind you that my next match can begin any second, so I would suggest that we get to the important matters here,"

Despite her best efforts to suppress it, Black Canary could still not contain the resigned sigh that came out of her mouth. No matter how hard she tried to explain it, Krieg would not just grasp what she was trying to convey. There was no reasoning with him, and it made her sad to see such a young boy with such fanatical devotion to a mass murdering cause. Nevertheless, he had a point here, so Canary just had to shelf their argument for a later date.

"Any progress then?" she asked. Now that was a topic of discussion that Krieg could understand infinitively better.

"I have counted seven other participants, but only three of them have the size and build to be a suspect. I have so far not learned their names, but I will begin a more thorough investigation once Roulette decides that I am done for the evening," he reported, slipping back into his soldier mindset with ease. Black Canary merely nodded her head in contemplation. An awkward silence, in Black Canary's opinion at least, descended over the pair, but which ended when someone suddenly knocked on the door.

"Krieg, you're up in five," someone said from the other side, making the whole affair sound he was just getting ready to get up on stage and perform for the audience. Then again, maybe it was not that far away from the truth after all.

"Just try to show more restraint this time," Black Canary implored of him, to which he said nothing and made his way towards the door.

"And Krieg," she suddenly added just as he was about to exit, causing him to pause at the threshold but otherwise not reacting, "be careful out here," and there she went with that useless sense of sympathy for him. He was a soldier, being careful is not something he can afford. So without even hinting at having acknowledged her words, he left and headed towards the cage. As he emerged into the blinding light created by the hundreds of spotlight shining down upon him, he was once again greeted by Roulette's prattling and the vulgar crowd's continuous applause.

"Having barely been here for two days, and already he's beaten two of our best fighters! But how will he fare against his newest opponent?" damn, did that infuriating woman ever shut up? There was an expression that Krieg had once heard when referring to people who liked to talk a lot, it went something like "he sure likes the sound of his voice". If an appropriate measurement was applied here, then Krieg was certain beyond any doubt that Roulette had become addicted to hearing her own voice.

"Here exclusively for tonight's fight, is the man recognized as the world's deadliest assassin. The unstoppable killing machine known as Deathstroke the Terminator!" Krieg would be the first to admit that he had not been present in this world long enough to familiarize himself with the world's rogue gallery, so he felt a bit out of the loop when every single spectator turned as quiet as a corpse. If their reaction was anything to go by, his new opponent was in a whole other league than those he had previously fought.

But when this Deathstroke finally stepped into the cage, Krieg felt his eyebrows shoot up in recognition. There was never any doubt to Krieg, this was the same man who Batman had fought when Krieg had first appeared in this world. Everything about him looked just the way he remembered it. But that single eye and the long white hair tied in a ponytail, it looked similar to another individual he just recently met.

"FIGHT!" but Krieg was never given more time to contemplate, as Deathstroke was already in motion. And dammit was he fast. He was in front of Krieg in a matter of seconds, letting loose with fists and kicks that Krieg just barely managed to keep up with. He dodged left, he dodged right, he blocked an uppercut, received a side blow, ducked under a follow-up blow, rolled clear of a powerful kick, knocked aside a fist aimed for his face, blocked a sudden kick, ducked under a spinning kick, dodged an uppercut and caught a fist meant to crush his throat.

But that small victory proved useless as a kick knocked him back and forced him to let go of Deathstroke. He did not even have time to straighten himself again before Deathstroke flipped right over him. Krieg had dearly wanted to turned around and face him again, but did not receive the chance to do just that since Deathstroke hit with multiple blows. He must have hit quite a few tender areas as well, since such an intense pain struck Krieg that he collapsed to his knees. If Pain's power had made him feel like getting doused in burning promethium, this was more akin having his flesh ripped off his back before getting his spine broken. But he would be damned if this brought him down, so he staggered back up with gritted teeth to face his opponent again.

"Impressive, few would have had the strength to still stand at this point, or been able to keep up as well as you did," Deathstroke complimented from where he was standing. Krieg was not fooled. His clinical eyes could see the telltale signs about the skills of his opponent. His whole posture was relaxed, his clothes were not even a bit damp from sweat and his breathing was so steady and quiet that Krieg could barely hear it. It was clear to Krieg; Deathstroke was for some reason holding back against him.

That did not however deter Krieg in the slightest, despite his throbbing back, and he charged at Deathstroke. His first punch was easily sidestepped by Deathstroke, and so was the second, third and fourth. At the fifth, Deathstroke seemed to have had enough and caught it in his hand. That was what Krieg had betted on and instantly struck out with a kick. Yet Deathstroke's reflexes proved too good and he leaped clear. Not about to lose the initiative, Krieg attacked again, opening up with an uppercut that was dodged and followed with a spinning kick that was caught. He was thrown back but regained his balance quick enough to roll clear of a return strike from Deathstroke.

Getting back on his feet, he struck out again with a punch that was deflected. Krieg meant to strike again, but a backhanded blow from Deathstroke rattled his head inside his mask and left him open for a double fisted blow to his stomach. By sheer willpower alone did Krieg keep its content where it belonged while mustering up enough strength to lash out at Deathstroke with an uppercut that he leaped clear of. By now, all Krieg's body wanted was to fall over and not get back up ever again. His muscles were starting to ache, his spine was still battered and now he felt like his insides had been turned to mush. His pain must have been obvious, given how he was struggling not to double over. But he would not give up, not now, not ever. The day that Krieg stopped fighting was the day he died.

So he forced his body forward again, slowly at first, but eventually building up momentum. Deathstroke meanwhile had been kind enough, or stupid in Krieg's opinion, and allowed him to recover. Now he was in motion again, ducking under a blow from Krieg, jumping clear of a kick, sidestepping a sluggish punch and just kept on avoiding every attack Krieg threw at him. Feeling emotions were never something Krieg excelled at, but now he felt a good dosage of frustration. Deathstroke was no longer even trying to strike back. He was just toying with Krieg now.

"Why do you keep fighting? It's obvious you can't beat me, so why prolong the inevitable?" Deathstroke asked as he kept nonchalantly dodging all of Krieg's attacks. He received no answer, as Krieg was not someone who enjoyed wasting time talking. He brought his right arm back, as if in preparation for a strike, and Deathstroke made ready to avoid it. He was therefore caught unprepared when Krieg struck with his left leg instead. He nearly got unbalanced by the move, but recovered in time to deflect a punch aimed for his head.

"Giving up isn't something you know how to do, right? You always keep fighting, despite knowing the odds. You're someone who would rather die than admit defeat," Deathstroke commented just as another punch came his way. He easily caught it and bent the arm to the point of breaking it, "Just like me," he added right before he drove a knee straight into Krieg's stomach while letting go of his arm. Yet even then, with nearly all his strength spent, did Krieg refuse to give up and took an unsteady step towards Deathstroke. He was rewarded for his tenacity with an elbow strike to his shoulder, with enough force behind it to leave him flat on the ground.

Yet still he tried to crawl back up on his feet and continue fighting. He did not get that far before he was pushed back to the floor by Deathstroke's weight, who pressed his knee into Krieg's spine to keep him down.

"Nice work, kid. A little rough around the edges, but that can be easily rectified with the right training," he said appraisingly. From his position face down on the floor, Krieg tried his best to turn his head enough to get Deathstroke within his line of sight.

"What… are you… talking about?" he asked, barely able to breathe, let alone speak with Deathstroke's weight on his back. But Deathstroke never answered his question, as he just kept talking as if he had not heard him.

"Congratulation, Krieg. You passed my first test," he announced, speaking quietly enough that only Krieg could hear his words. If he had been confused by his words before, Krieg was now downright perplexed.

"What… test?" he just managed to force out of his constricted lungs. A light chuckle was his first, and highly annoying, answer.

"That's something for another day. For now, I believe you've earned a reward for efforts," Deathstroke commented, "I know you're here with Black Canary, no doubt looking for the robbers that are all over the news," if Krieg was in any way surprised by his knowledge, he shoved no signs of it, "and I happen to know the identity of one of them, their Meta human to be precise," now that garnered a reaction out of Krieg, who became stiff as a board.

"His name is Malcolm Angelo. You ran into him before, when you first got here this evening. He was the one in black clothes," Deathstroke's information on the matter created two questions in Krieg's mind. The first one was how in the name of the Emperor he had known about Krieg's earlier confrontation. The second question however was far more important in his eyes.

"Why would… you tell me… this?" he asked suspiciously, hoping that Deathstroke at least would be fast in giving him an answer since he was starting to see black dots at the edge of his vision.

"Like I told you earlier, it is my reward for your hard work," he answered truthfully, "I can also add that they're planning on leaving town soon, so you and Black Canary better hurry up if you want to catch them," with that said, he finally go off of Krieg, allowing oxygen to once again freely flow into his lungs. He was suddenly flipped onto his back and ended up staring at Deathstroke's masked face.

"This won't be the last time, Krieg. We'll meet again in the future. But for now, sleep tight," Krieg was left to ponder about his last words for about a second before a fist descended on his face. Then all became dark for him.

Blackness was the first thing that greeted Krieg when he regained consciousness. It only took a few moments for Krieg to realize that the darkness he was seeing was in fact the insides of his eyelids. It took him far longer to piece together his fragmented memory of tonight's events. When the last piece had fallen back in place, he was left with an intriguing mix of disappointment and confusion.

The first emotion was directed at himself. Despite his training and preparations, he had still ended up getting bested by his opponent. Granted, it had been an opponent who no one had accounted for being present, but it was no excuse for Krieg. If he was going to continue on his path, he needed to be the best he could be. This defeat meant he would just have to train even harder in the future, Black Canary and her illogical ideas be damned.

Now the second emotion was spawned from Deathstroke's words. He spoke of a test, of them crossing paths in the future. It made Krieg wonder about him. He was obviously not like the lowlife wasting their lives in this hellhole. No, he was apparently one of those infamous villains running around the globe, causing mayhem for whatever their twisted reason might be. So what had he been doing here? Surely it had not been purely to fight him, right?

Either way, his thoughts on the matter would have to wait for another time, as Krieg had finally mustered enough strength to actually open his eyes again. The blinding light from the overhanging lamp almost made him close them again, but he persevered and forced them open all the way. Though bleary at first, his surroundings eventually became more defined as his eyes adjusted to being used once again. A bundle of blonde hair stationed at the edge of his peripheral vision made him slowly turn his head in that direction while trying to push himself upright. That small action apparently alerted the blonde hair's owner that he was awake, for he found himself being gently pressed back down by a delicate hand on his chest.

"Lie still, you've not fully recovered yet," the soothing voice of Black Canary told him when he tried to fight the hand off. Accepting her words as an order, he relaxed again and fully turned his head to stare at her. Once again, he found that exaggerated concern of hers dominating her face. Though she seemed a bit relieved now.

"Thank God you're awake at least. With the beating you took, I was afraid that he'd kill you," she admitted as she sat back down on the chair she had previously occupied, "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him. Had I known he would have been there, I would have never let you fight," her sudden apology made Krieg yet again confused. If the reason for all these conflicting events were the result of emotions, then Krieg was relieved he lacked those.

"Your apology is not necessary, Black Canary. This is simply the reality of fighting a war," he commented monotonously. Before she could say something in response, Krieg went on, "I have gained a possible lead concerning the identity of our Meta human robber. It points towards one Malcolm Angelo,"

Black Canary's eyebrows furrowed I thought as she contemplated this sudden development, "Where did you get this information?" naturally, the first thing she asked was exactly what Krieg had expected.

"The source of the tip was Deathstroke. Therefore, given his role as a villain, I am uncertain as to the truthfulness of his words," he informed her. Surprise was clearly written all over her face when she heard that, but she was quick to collect herself again.

"Nevertheless, it's the best lead we got so far. I'll investigate it while you stay here and recover," now that last bit was not something Krieg was overly pleased with. He was about to object, but was silenced when Black Canary gave him such a sharp glare that it could have cut through adamantium. Krieg wisely kept his mouth shut and Black Canary left the room soon after. 'Defeated by a mere glare. Now that's a new low for me,'

With silent steps, Black Canary made her way to where this Malcolm Angelo was currently hiding. Once she found the door leading inside the room he was occupying, she carefully leaned against the door to eavesdrop on their conversation. And from the sound of things, she had hit the jackpot.

"I'm telling you man, that woman is looking for us! She should just book it before we end up behind bars!" one of them pleaded, obviously feeling that flight was the more prudent action.

"Run away? Are you kidding me? We haven't even hit a bank yet in this town. Besides, that dumb broad won't even know we were here," someone else stated, making Black Canary wish she had that little twerp in her hands right about now. Someone suddenly snorted, obviously taking issues with those words.

"Who died and made you king?" someone asked in disdain. Seemed like the gang had trouble with leadership at the moment.

"You wanna arm-wrestle me for it?" the second man who had spoken countered challengingly. From the sound of things, they were about to come to blows with one another. Black Canary had a hard time deciding whether that was a good thing or not. Unfortunately, events quickly spiraled downhill from there, all because of one man who had needed to find a bathroom, and upon his return displayed a surprising amount of stealth.

"Gotcha!" he cried out in triumph as he tackled Black Canary from behind, causing them both to tumble through the door. While starting out on top of her, the fourth robber eventually ended up getting flung off her to impact painfully against the wall. Black Canary was swiftly back up on her feet, ready to face the three remaining robbers, one of which happened to be more than twice her size.

"Well, this just got rather awkward," the big one, most likely the Meta, commented. Had her situation not been as dire as it was, she would have openly agreed with him. He suddenly shrugged his shoulders, as if he had been part of some silent conversation.

"Eh, what the heck? Might as well take the chance to axe off a Justice League member. One less pest to worry about down the line," he announced nonchalantly, as if fighting Black Canary and planning to kill her was an everyday occurrence to him. Maybe that last part actually was.

The other members of the gang seemed to get the hint and backed away to make room for the two metas to fight. Canary did not feel like getting engaged in a prolonged fight, so she readied to use her infamous Canary cry on him. Malcolm however must have guessed her intention as he swiftly attacked. She was forced to duck under a swing, leap clear of a kick that left a hole in the floor, sidestep another punch and deflect an uppercut. That last one nearly threw her off her feet, but she regained her balance and struck back by leaping right over him and struck out at the back of his legs. It was like trying to break a pair of oak trees with a simple kick, and she was forced to retreat as he attacked like a berserker, swinging his fists wildly.

She tried putting some distance between them to fire off her Canary cry again, but Malcolm would have none of it and pushed on. Black Canary tried to hit him back multiple times, but his dense muscles were harder than rocks, and her human strength was not even enough to bruise him. And she was starting to run out of space to keep dodging his attacks. A rather vicious kick came at her and she was forced to leap back. Absentmindedly, she noticed that she was being driven into a corner by the brute. Not good, not good at all.

And while they were fighting it out with each other, the three remaining robbers watched the spectacle in amusement, obviously taking a form of perverse pleasure from seeing their Meta companion beating up a League member. However, one of their numbers realized that something was amiss when he felt something sting him in the neck. Instinctual reflexes had him reaching for the area he felt the sting, and his fingers brushed over something embedded in his neck. His confusion on the matter only lasted for a few seconds, for then he fell over unconscious. Surprise dulled the reaction of the last two, and they were therefore quick to join their comrade on the floor with matching darts in their necks.

Meanwhile, the two Metas fighting had still not noticed the events occurring around them and were still throwing attacks at each other. Black Canary ducked under a powerful punch that ended up getting embedded in the wall. Like a viper, she struck out with a quick blow at his armpits before darting out of his range. It seemed to only enrage the behemoth as he tore his arm free with a roar. He made ready to charge Black Canary again, intent on crushing her like a bug. He never got that far before someone suddenly leaped on his back, trapping his head in a chokehold.

"Hey! Get off of me, you little shrimp!" Malcolm roared in outrage, not even noticing that his opponent was trying to strangle him. His throat muscles were too strong to be closed off. His unexpected piggyback riding opponent however did not answer him, instead calling out to Black Canary.

"Use your Canary cry!" he shouted, and it was only now that she recognized just who had interfered.

"Krieg?!" she called out in horrified confusion. Just what was that kid thinking he was doing now?

"Do it! Now! I can't hold him forever!" he shouted back. And he was correct. The brute was buckling like an out of control bull, threatening to throw him off him. If that happened, they were both screwed. But Canary hesitated. Naturally, she did not want to hit her partner with her attack. But even she recognized the dire situation they were in. so with a deep breath taken, she let loose with her Canary cry. The effect was instantaneous. Krieg was flung away like a ragdoll to smash painfully against the wall, while Malcolm staggered back. His body may have been impervious to most blows, but his hearing was not as protected.

He tried to push forward, ignoring the amount of sonic power smashing into him like a freight train. It proved to be too much in the end, and he was flung back, out like a candle before he even hit the ground. With the threat neutralized, she rushed over to the barely conscious Krieg.

"Oh my god! Krieg, can you hear me? Are you alight? Say something!" she fired off in such a hurry that one could barely keep up with her. Then again, she did just hit her partner with her strongest attack, she probably reserved the right to become a little panicked. Krieg's head lolled back and forth a bit until his eyes finally came to rest upon Black Canary.

"I can hear bells ringing," he admitted, voice a bit sluggish as he tried getting back his bearings. 'Note to self; never get hit by that thing again,' he thought, not even trying to get back up on his own this time. His ability to still form coherent sentences seemed to calm Black Canary down to some degrees. So now she no longer looked like she wanted to hug him to death. Instead her expression twisted into a state that showed that she may have wanted to strangle him to death instead.

"Just what the hell were you thinking?!" as if those bloody bells in his ears were not bad enough, now she started screaming at him in anger.

"You needed time to fire off your Canary cry, I gave you all the time you needed," he answered. Sadly that explanation did not satisfy her. If anything, it infuriated her even more.

"You can't just throw yourself into harmful situations like that! What if you'd gotten hurt even worse? What if you'd died?" she tried to argue with him. He almost felt like snorting at her words. She spoke as if he was ignorant of the dangers in his actions. He had been fully aware of them long before he even attacked Malcolm.

"A small price to pay for victory," he replied monotonously. Black Canary had definitively a few choice words to say about, but decided against it. He would not listen anyway. But she was not giving up. She was determined to snap him out of his kamikaze victory-at-all-costs attitude.

"Let's just call the League and inform them of the situation," she eventually said, but when he tried to stand back up, he was halted by a sharp glare from her, "And you stay right where you are until I say otherwise, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," was all he said as he settled back down again.