Author's Notes: If you are a member of the Teen Titan RPG I would suggest not reading it as it gives away a whole lot of Vince's past that I intend to reveal at some point. Of course I can't stop you if you really want to. If you do read this entire thing which I wrote up at 1:00 AM, I would like it if you could possibly review it in one of the comments. ^^ I haven't titled it yet, suggestions are welcome ^^

Of course some parts of it may clash with TT in general, but I wanted to right something with him older and on his own for a bit.

Untitled

A man walked through the desolate streets of the burning town. Screams and cries filled the air, but he didn’t care; he got what he wanted and dousing the flames that consumed the town was not on his to-do list. He wanted blood, he wanted a man dead, and he would go to any means necessary to accomplish it. He is the one who destroyed the town, he was simply sent to retrieve an item of importance, and he got it, and shortly after he went on a mad rampage which killed everyone in the town.

Vincent Underwood was this man’s name. It had been a few years since he discovered what and who he really was. All of his life, he had thought his memories to be genuine, all his life he thought he had a family, he thought he had a chance to be someone else. Those thoughts were dashed when he found out where he came from.

A car with a family of three in it exploded as the flames reached the fuel tank. Vince watched and felt no emotion toward their end, why would he care? They were nothing to him, and for all he knew they were as good as the one who made him, the one he hunted.

Snow covered the streets, but it had melted away into either boiling water which was near the flames, or into slush the farther out you went.

Vince held his long thin bladed sword out in front of him as he walked; it was caked in a syrupy substance which was visibly dark red when the light of the fire shined on it. The blood most likely belonged to citizens as he had killed everyone in this place; he didn’t know why he did, he just did.

All Liberators think alike, kill first questions later, Vince was no exception to this rule. He was a synthetic human created from a crime syndicate which he had no idea ever existed until he took interest in it. It had been wiped out one hundred ten years prior to this day, and Vince was one of the two thousand Liberator “clones” to do it.

Vince and his fellow Liberators-who are all dead- weren’t considered “clones” as the term is normally used, the only thing they all shared was the eye color and skin color, although normally they had dark hair ranging from black to a dark brown.

Liberators were created to protect the syndicate and act as its most elite agents, again this was one hundred years ago and even though a primitive time it was, these guys were incredibly advanced, but kept their secrets to only themselves.

The synthetic beings were given the way to think and how to feel. Most were cold bloodthirsty beings; the most violent ones killed, even each other when there was nothing else to destroy. Vince was considered to be the least destructive, he was the latest one and so being the youngest one as well. While his peers were eighteen, he was merely an eight year old, but that didn’t mean that his own allies and kind didn’t treat him viciously and beat him when they had the chance.

When the uprising began-it began because all of the Liberators discovered what they really were and disliked that- there were two sides, loyalists and the separatists. They fought one large bloody battle against each other. Everyone died in it, except for young Vince who had taken shelter behind his own comrades. He witnessed the blood shed and had taken a few down himself.

Years later, about fifty to be exact he ended up unconscious in an alley, no one knew what, or who, had attacked him, nor did they care. He was found and put into a hospital which had him in a coma for another fifty years.

The doctors were amazed that he had not aged beyond the age of ten, and yet the boy knew more things than your typical adult. Vince had of course forgotten everything, and only had the implanted memories left. He believed that they were real memories of course, and they were made so that Liberators would never suspect their true origins.

Vince had been released from the hospital and had been taken in by a foster father who had taken no interest in the boy after being expelled from a school for “Violent” behavior. Vince had only protected himself in the fight that happened, but his stepfather just left him in an alley nonetheless.

Vince had been on his own for eight years. Eight what seemed to be; incredibly long years. He had practiced with a power he had, which was manipulating shadow in any shape or form, and was an amateur at it.

During his eighteenth year of life, Vince had been able to obtain a red robe, with black undergarments along with a sword and two shruiken; some say he robbed a store to get these items as Vince never had a real job and therefore no pay. The only reason Vince was still alive on the streets was more because of his violent nature, he killed anyone who challenged him to anything; most of the time with his bare hands.

He also wore gloves, but these gloves he had owned back when he woke up in the hospital. On the upside of the glove there was a skull with two rifles behind it and the word “Liberator” in fainting letters. His mind only remembered training programs in combat back when he was eight.

He enrolled to a program which was created for “heroes”. He had originally gone in only to figure out how to use his powers in a better way, but only one month or so in he was leading a team and all that stuff he had never done before. He had faced challenges in this place, and eventually “graduated” from it.

That was ten years ago, and still Vince hadn’t aged a day beyond eighteen. He was a twenty eight year old man who had amassed some scars, but he looked no different.

He continued walking forward. None of his previous classmates and team members had ever crossed him yet, and if any of them did Vince wouldn’t be afraid to skewer them on the spot.

A fuel tank exploded next to Vince, the shadow wielder was able to throw up a shield with no effort, protecting himself from the blast, sadly the people who had been around it were either mutilated, or screaming in agony as fire licked their bodies and began roasting them alive. In Vince’s eyes it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

The sky was black, but not with night, with smoke. Even without the chocking smoke tendrils that reached up and into the sky, the sky itself would still be dark as it was indeed night time, just no stars or moon could show throw the dangerous clouds of smoke.

Someone stood in his way, someone not screaming, not burning, someone who had long brown hair which so far concealed this stranger’s face. A sword lay limp in this being’s hand and she wore a long trench coat which was a very dark red in color. Her hands were concealed in black gloves and she wore black boots. Her face looked up at Vince; she had large red eyes, and had long brown hair which fluttered in front of her face in the wind. She looked not a day over seventeen, and had a smooth face which had a few scars here and there.

A symbol was on the cuff of her trench coat, but Vince couldn’t quite make it out. “Who are you?” he spat in a cruel tone which he had achieved over the years.

“My name is of no concern to you; anyways you should have a better memory anyway.” The girl spat back in an evenly cruel tone. Vince was intrigued to say the least that this one hadn’t ran away like everyone else. He couldn’t quite see her eyes himself as her hair tended to block them from his sight.

“Are you challenging me?” Vince asked as an amused smile broke over his face.

“What if I am? You too scared to accept it?” the girl replied still with her nasty and cruel tone.

“Scared to accept? No. I’ll gladly fight you and I’ll leave the mess for the authorities to clean up.”

“Good.” She replied with a smile on her own face. The girl within mere seconds was in front of Vince and the clash of blades could be heard. She was fast, incredibly fast, and used the same quick and destructive style Vince used.

She lashed out with a kick and caught Vince in the gut; he stumbled backwards and shut the pain out of his system. He smiled This is going to be fun.

He lashed out with his blade just to have it parried by the female combatant; this time Vince struck out with his fist which hit the girl inbetween the ribs and now she was the one stumbling back. Vince smiled and jumped forward, blade outstretched.

Even though her balance was off, she was still able to block Vince’s blade as it whizzed in front of her. Vince was quite impressed by this person’s skill so far, and he intended to go further. He swung his foot out, which effectively tripped her and she landed on the ground back first. He pointed his blade at her exposed neck and said “Now what?”

She smiled and whipped his blade aside with her own and flipped backwards. She landed gracefully with her blade in her left hand still hanging lazily. She shot forwards and the sound of interlocking metal could be heard. Everything other than the two combatants was silent, no screams, or cries, it even seemed that the fire stopped its maniacal cackling to watch the battle.

She whipped her blade this way and that just for it to be blocked each and every time by Vince with his equal swordsmanship. He was becoming quite amazed at her skill, she even looked a bit familiar to him…but from where? He couldn’t place the face each time he tried.

The swords clanged together again, but this time the girl was able to throw Vince off balance and knock the warrior to the ground. She pointed her blade at his neck and said “Remember me?” her eyes looked down at him and now Vince could see the “Liberator” insignia on her glove.

“You’re a-“

“A Liberator, yes. I was made shortly after you came out of the vat.”

“Well, things have just gotten much more interesting haven’t they?”

“Yes, yes they have.” The girl replied as she stabbed forward. With inhuman speed Vince was able to move out from under the blade as it dug deep into the ground.

“Why is it that you want to kill me?” Vince said innocently with mock confusion on his face.

“You’re a Separatist, I’m a Loyalist. Yet, things go deeper than just that.” She said back as she flung a kick out which caught Vince in the Ribs and he fell over. “I hate you the most Vince, why? Because we were friends, and you voluntarily tried to kill me. You betrayed not only our creators, but me as well. You deceived me with mock friendship, and for that I want to gut you.”

Vince looked at her; he thought that she was familiar, but didn’t at the same time. She lashed her blade out flat end first and whacked Vince across his face, blood flew out of his mouth, but nothing was broken; lucky him. She twitched her sword and went for a sideways slash which Vince blocked with his own blade at the right time. “Whatever happened, I’m sorry!” he said through the blood and pain.

“You had your chance to say that, you just kicked me down.” She kicked Vince in the gut and brought the flat end of the blade down on the back of his head. Normally that would knock a man out, but Vince could take harder blows than that. He lashed out again and once more the two blades interlocked with sparks flying up as they grinded against each other. “I’ll kill you Vince, and want to know something else? You smiled when you hurt me, you smiled as you did it during that battle and I intend to smile while gutting you here.” Vince said nothing as both combatants vanished to the higher point of the Empire State building as it was called. Vince could do this because as he grew older his power evolved, he could now appear anywhere on the planet where darkness touched; he loved that. Somehow the girl could do the same.

“Do all Liberators have shadow powers?” he didn’t ask it stupidly, he just couldn’t remember if they did or not.

“What do you think? We all have the same DNA, and we all have the same abilities. In case you’re too dull witted, yes we all have shadow powers.” She kicked Vince through one of the windows of the structure; glass bit into Vince’s skin as he flew through the window, but his mind did not register the pain.

Civilians who happened to be inside screamed and ran down the hallway Vince had burst into. The girl whipped her blade against Vince’s and the two traded blows back and forth. None struck either opponent; they were all parried in a great shower of sparks with a grunt coming from one of them.

Vince slipped his blade under hers, and he grabbed her by the collar of her shirt which shown through the red trench coat, in one fluid movement Vince pushed her blade out of his arm’s way and threw her across the room and into the mob of runaway civilians. A woman was knocked over and her life was cut short as the blade of the Liberator girl sliced the other woman’s head off in a clean sweeping movement.

“Well, that marks one down.” Vince said as two tendrils of shadow chucked him through the wall and into a group of fleeing civilians, who all ended up smashed against the next wall, or on the ground. The tendrils let go of Vince as his adversary stepped into view. Again blades clashed and they clashed and they clashed. The two blades left deep cuts in the walls of the building and occasionally killed one of the civilians on the ground-death of innocents was something the two didn’t care about.

The fight only got fiercer, Liberators were not made to tire, they were made to kill and continue killing, and so that is what the two did. They killed handfuls of innocent people who could not leave the room, just so one could get an upper hand in this even conflict.

The two Liberators continued trying to kill each other. Neither got any closer to do so, they just blindly continued slashing at each other and were blocked each time.

They vanished again and appeared three hundred feet in the air and yet they continued clashing blade with blade as they hurtled to the ground below. Determination filled each combatant’s eyes and they wouldn’t stop until one was dead, or the world was obliterated by the battle.

Right before they hit the concrete down below they vanished again, only to appear on top of the Statue of Liberty, right on its head. They still slashed and threw blows at each other seemingly oblivious as to where they were. Their battle scuffed the entire head of the statue and several long gashes were created on the head. “Come on, just die!” the girl said angrily as her blade was blocked again. Vince said nothing as he tripped her and put his blade at her neck for a second time.

She was on the edge of the statue, so a back flip wouldn’t work out quite well, and Vince had his foot on top of her arm which held her sword. “Who are you?” he asked with venom in his tone.

“Emily.” The girl responded. Vince looked at her wide eyed; he thought that Emily had been a figment of his imagination when he found out that he was just a synthetic human., he thought that “Emily” was the force that was programmed into his mind to keep him from hunting the truth of his origins; apparently he had been wrong-very wrong. Emily was a real person, and now he knew who she really was. His mental image depicted of an excusable way as to why she wasn’t in his life, and he had created a form of conscience in the body of Emily just to keep himself going. Looking at the real thing brought shock to his face.

She stared at him coldly and said “You’ve forgotten everything haven’t you?” she still couldn’t move her arm, but his grip on his sword, and pressure on her arm slackened a bit. In his shocked eyes she could tell that he was remembering her, now that she told him who she actually was it must’ve triggered something in his mind, and now he was looking at it.

Vince could only observe, he could see himself in a large bloody battle with the Liberators, on the ground was a small girl around seven; he, at this time was eight. Vince was viewing everything third person and he watched himself as he kicked the younger one repeatedly. She was crying and begging for him to stop, but he didn’t. He watched himself continue to go at it.

It was the hardest thing for Vince to watch in his life, he himself could feel tears sliding down his cheeks as he saw the boy who was somehow himself kick and hit the girl. She stopped crying and moving for that matter, the boy who was Vince was satisfied and thought that she was dead and walked away. Had the boy stopped to look he would have noticed that she was only unconscious, but thankfully he hadn’t noticed.

The memory faded and Vince looked at what he was doing; he was repeating what he had done as a child. The blade which was in his hands clattered to the ground and Vince walked backwards feeling shame and guilt build up inside him. Gone was the adrenaline which deposited the chemical in his bloodstream that made him addicted to kill, gone was the urge to fight. Vince fell to his knees with tears streaming down his face.

“I-…I’m…so sorry.” He said in a sincere tone, a tone which he had never truly used before this moment. Emily looked at Vince in disbelief, she hadn’t thought that Vince felt this much remorse for what he had done; she thought that Vince knew and remembered that day and fought her nonetheless. That had been what ticked her off, that after nearly killing her at seven years of age, this man had the mind to try again.

She didn’t move, or say a word; in truth she didn’t know what to say. She herself felt a pang of guilt as she should’ve known that Vince wouldn’t have remembered. She slowly got up and walked over to Vince.

Emily had discarded her sword and kneeled down in front of the grief stricken figure. “Don’t be, it is I who should say sorry, I screwed your life up too many times. I didn’t mean to of course.” She said calmly. The chemical in her own blood was gone, the citizens who were in the Empire State building were all dead, and the citizens of the burning town were all killed. They had caused much damage, but right now it wasn’t that which was on their minds; what was on their minds was their past and how they nearly made it their future. If mistakes were not recognized in the past, they liked to repeat themselves in the future.

“No. I nearly killed you in cold blood. I don’t deserve a sorry from you; I only deserve getting kicked off this statue.” Vince said after he could force himself to speak.

“Vince.” She said as she looked into his red eyes. “We were friends in the past; we cared for each other in the past. We got into a fight due to our DNA and how we were made. It was not you who beat me; it was a Liberator who beat me. A Liberator which can consume its host and turn the nicest man into the most dangerous killer alive, you and me are merely the hosts. In battle the parasite takes over and turns us into those Liberator monstrosities. I do not believe it was you who fought me; I believe that it was your programming and your chemical induced side that did.” She hadn’t expected this sort of change of events at all, she had come to kill him in cold blood for what he did to her, but now she realized that the soldier hadn’t meant it, when one is under the control of that blasted chemical, although it made you think clearer and calmer, it also made you want to fight to the death with anything that moved. That chemical had been running through her veins which had been the reason why that entire battle occurred.

Vince looked up a bit at her and into her red eyes which mimicked his own. She was a beautiful young girl, who was only a year younger than himself. The violence had passed, and now the two could think like regular individuals. Surprisingly she hugged Vince. He had never been hugged his entire life, he had watched others do it and could never understand it. It was so confusing to him, as was love and affection; he had never been loved or felt affectionate towards anyone and from this one hug in his entire life, he felt like he had missed out on so much. He hugged her back with his bloodstained gloves and tears flowed form both of their eyes.

Liberators were not created for love, or friendship; they were created to kill and destroy without a second thought. They were made to protect the Revolution, but destroyed it. Now while all the battles settled and Vince found out that he wasn’t the only one of his kind left, he found a small pocket of happiness which he didn’t want to ever go away.

She felt the same way, but understood it more than he did. Emily had grown up alone and unaided as well, but she had been able to sneak into movies and things like that, more out of sheer curiosity than anything else, and remembered all of the strange actions that the main character would do to get attention from a secondary female character. She never understood any of it, but right now she did. Emily felt genuine unprogrammed happiness for the first time in her entire life. She also loved the feeling.

“Vince?” she said uncertainly and quietly in his ear.

“Yes?” he said in the same tone at the same level.

“What is that emotion called where you don’t want to leave someone?”

“Caring?” Vince replied unsure of his own words.

“No, the other one, the one where people seem to be happy together, and they never want to leave the other.” Emily explained quietly and softly.

“I guess, it would be…love.” He replied, much more certain in his tone of voice. Even though this was the first time he felt it, he knew what it was after he thought about it.

“Hmm, yes…that one. I love you Vince.” She said gripping him a bit tighter, she had actually missed Vince from back when they were friends, back when all was well and no one was killing, back in training courses. The two, even if a year apart; had always made a great team in combat, seek and destroy, along with several other activities.

They were similar as far as personality went, and they had grown to be great friends in the training school. That blasted war had changed it. The two were ultimately swept to different sides and for the first time in Vince’s life at least, he felt the rush of clarity, calmness and the wanting to destroy lives. Sadly Emily hadn’t had the same rush and the two ended up fighting each other. Emily had lost in the end because she was filled with panic and fear, whereas he was full of programmed happiness and clarity.

It took eight years for the chemical to develop within the body’s adrenaline, and sadly Emily hadn’t owned the ability to use it.

She realized that when Vince slacked off of his attack and ended it with grieving and sadness. The chemical could take over one’s thoughts to try and destroy the ones someone cared about; in this case it nearly worked on both of them.

Vince gripped her tighter as well and said in a calm, caring and soft tone “I love you too.” Despite everything that happened, the two were able to remember that each cared about the other, and so they sat there for hours on end as it rained from the sky and inevitably drenched them, until the sun rose up in the morning.