Disclaimer: I don't own either the Teen Titans or the Phantom of the Opera. But I do own this disclaimer!

A/N: Well, I promised you all an epilogue to "The Beast of the Opera!" And here it is! It's short, yes, but most epilogues are. I hope you enjoy it!

And now take a step forward in time with me . . . forward to sixty years after "The Beast of the Opera" ended . . .


The cemetery of Jump City was cold and covered with snow. Just as it was every year in the winter. Just as it wassixty years ago, when two teenagers fought a deadly and mysterious battle. A battle that was a powerful turning point in the mysterious affair of the 'Beast of the Opera.'

Row after row of tombstones lined the cemetery. Dark, crooked trees hung overhead with great empty branches, reaching for the heavens. No birds chirped, not animals rustled; it was silent in the cemetery. Silent as the grave.

Until a man entered the cemetery and made his way towards the back of it with slow, soft footsteps. The man was very old now, pushing seventy-seven. Despite this, he stood tall and without a hunch. He was in great physical condition, especially for a man of his age. He had shoulder-length gray hair and wore dark sunglasses that covered his eyes.

His name was Robin.

Beside him was a old woman of almost exactly the same age as the man. Despite the wrinkled skin and slight limp she carried, the woman could still be considered attractive to some. Her skin was nicely tan and her eyes were the brightest green.

Her name, of course, was Star.

The old Robin and the elderly Star walked through the cemetery, looking for exactly the right grave. Their friend had died recently, and the two, on vacation together, had sadly missed the funeral. They were here now to finally pay their respects to their dear, departed friend.

They found her grave directly next to her mother, Arella's. It was a beautiful work of art for a tombstone, standing three feet high and decorated with every detail a sculptor could think of. The centerpiece was a carved stone mask. A very familiar looking mask.


A friend to many

Loved by all

An Angel of Music

"I wish we could have at least made the funeral," said Star, tears dripping down her face. "We knew she was sick, but . . . not this sick. Nothing like this."

"It's okay, my dear," Robin said, patting Star's hand. "With life, comes death; it has always been this way. Everything is the way it is meant to be."

"I know," said Star, crying. "But I will always miss her. She was such a good friend . . . to the very end."

"Yes, she was," Robin said, nodding sadly. "Raven was . . . unique. Special."

The two stood in silence, looking upon the grave. Each was silently giving their respects to the late Raven Logan. An Angel of Music . . . how true. How very, very true.

"Good-bye, dear Raven," said Robin, closing his eyes.

"May Heaven abide you," said Star, still crying.

As one, the two turned to go. Star began with her limp, and Robin put his arm around her affectionately. Just before they left the are of Robin's grave, though, Robin felt something move behind him. Something fast.

Though not as reflexive as he used to be, Robin turned and narrowed his eyes. And he saw something on the gravestone he hadn't noticed before. A gift . . . a very special plant. His eyes widened.

There, on top of the grave, tucked into the stone mask, was a rose. A green rose.

Looking up quickly, Robin was just fast enough to catch a glimpse of a figure in a nearby tree. The crooked branches obscured his figure, but a cape was clear and . . . a face. A green face with pointed ears and olive hair.

And then the figure was gone, vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Is something wrong?" Star asked, turning to Robin. She looked to where he was staring, but saw nothing. "Robin?"

Robin smiled, shook his head. "No, Star. Everything is fine. Everything . . . is the way its supposed to be."

In sleep, he sang to me

In dreams he came

That voice that calls to me

And speaks my name

And though I dream again,

For now I find,

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside my mind

Sing once again with me

A strange duet

My power over you

Grows stronger yet

And though you turn from me

And glance behind

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside your mind

Those who have seen your face

Draw back in fear

I am the mask you wear

It's me they hear

May spirit and my voice

In one combined

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside my mind


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