The young huntress sat in the noisy classroom, her green eyes sweeping the page in front of her as she desperately struggled to memorize the vocabulary before the quiz. Lightly she rubbed the eye that held the new contact lens, lamenting her still-failing eyesight. At least the STN-J wouldn't think she'd flown to the States. They hadn't known that English was as natural to her as her native Italian.
She didn't look as she had a short year ago. Her black watch still looked the same, as did her well-fitting, well-worn boots, but the loose t- shirt and tight jeans were drastically different from the "gothic gowns" she had worn, creating a very simple disguise. She further added to the effect by tying her hair back in a high ponytail as opposed to her signature style.
She had been taught well the art of disappearing by her beloved mentor.
Her hands cold, she trembled as she heard the high school Spanish teacher order books away. Numbering her paper, she translated the vocabulary down to number fifteen.
La fábrica.
The Factory.
Involuntarily, she whimpered as she remembered...

The building was in flame, and to all appearances they were trapped.
"Never mind that. Go now," The dark man with her commanded. "You can slip down that corridor and try to find an escape. There is a file that I need to ensure doesn't survive."
She hesitated, and for the first time in her memory, he raised his voice to her.
"Damn you witch, GO!"
His intuition was as correct as always, and she wiggled through a window to the outside at the end of the hallway. She heard running footsteps behind her, and looked back to see her superior coming towards the window. She stepped aside for him, just as a ceiling beam fell flaming onto his back.
"Robin!" He yelled, motioning for her to run, as the window exploded outward...

"Robin!" The teacher's voice snapped through her flashback as the tears streamed down her face. The rest of the class looked scared as the sixteen-year-old ex-huntress fell to her knees sobbing as sparks shown around her eyes and hair.
"Amon," She called in her misery. "Oh, Amon..."


...Flame and exploded glass leapt towards and surrounded the girl as she stood staring at him through the opening. He screamed her name again, and again, trying to get her to answer, trying to assure himself that she was alive...
"Robin!" He screamed yet again, sitting up. The sweaty sheet in an empty apartment twined tightly around him as he sat there. His back ached under the scars of healed burns. He gripped his head tightly between his hands as he moaned.
"Oh, gods, Robin. I killed you..."