The Gotham docks were quiet, too quiet for a midnight shipment. Crates marked with false pharmaceutical logos lined the pier, their faint chemical stench drifting into the harbor. From the shadows, Sportsmaster stood with his mask glinting under the floodlights, arms crossed. His men unloaded the containers with precision.
"Move it," he growled. "The Light doesn't like delays."
A black van screeched to a stop beside the cargo. Inside the crates weren't medicine, but weaponized tech — LexCorp prototypes meant for the black market.
Suddenly, one of the guards slumped unconscious, dragged into the shadows. Then another. Sportsmaster's visor narrowed.
"We've got company."
Earlier that night, Mount Justice.
The zeta-tube hummed as Batman strode into the cave, his cape trailing like a storm. Behind him walked someone new: a tall young man, 6'1", lean but muscular, in dark jeans and a fitted jacket. His dark hair fell into sharp layers, and his calm eyes scanned the room with calculated cool.
"This is Damien Cross," Batman said simply. "Codename: CrossCut."
The Team exchanged glances. Robin tilted his head, calculating. Wally folded his arms, unimpressed. Superboy just scowled. Artemis frowned — another new recruit.
Damien kept his posture straight but relaxed. "Nice to meet you all. I've heard the stories." His voice carried confidence without arrogance.
Wally muttered under his breath, "Yeah, bet you have."
Aqualad stepped forward with his usual composure. "Welcome, CrossCut. You will find we are… still learning to trust each other."
"Good," Damien replied. "Trust is earned."
Batman cut through the tension. "You'll have your chance. Tonight's mission is a weapons intercept at Gotham Harbor. Sportsmaster is involved."
That name tightened Artemis' jaw.
"This is not a test," Batman continued. His gaze locked on Damien. "But consider it one."
Earlier that night, Mount Justice.
The zeta-tube hummed as Batman strode into the cave, his cape trailing like a storm. Behind him walked someone new: a tall young man, 6'1", lean but muscular, in dark jeans and a fitted jacket. His dark hair fell into sharp layers, and his calm eyes scanned the room with calculated cool.
"This is Damien Cross," Batman said simply. "Codename: CrossCut."
The Team exchanged glances. Robin tilted his head, calculating. Wally folded his arms, unimpressed. Superboy just scowled. Artemis frowned — another new recruit.
Damien kept his posture straight but relaxed. "Nice to meet you all. I've heard the stories." His voice carried confidence without arrogance.
Wally muttered under his breath, "Yeah, bet you have."
Aqualad stepped forward with his usual composure. "Welcome, CrossCut. You will find we are… still learning to trust each other."
"Good," Damien replied. "Trust is earned."
Batman cut through the tension. "You'll have your chance. Tonight's mission is a weapons intercept at Gotham Harbor. Sportsmaster is involved."
That name tightened Artemis' jaw.
"This is not a test," Batman continued. His gaze locked on Damien. "But consider it one."
The Team deployed from Bioship, Miss Martian cloaking them above the docks. They descended silently onto the rooftops.
"Remember," Aqualad whispered, "we strike as one."
Robin grinned, pulling out his holo-map. "Guards posted every thirty feet. Easy pickings."
"Then let's pick," Damien said coolly. He slipped into the shadows, moving like liquid — precise, deliberate. His gauntlets shimmered faintly with crimson energy, though he kept them dim.
Robin raised an eyebrow. "Showoff."
But when Damien vaulted silently behind a guard, swept his legs, and tapped his gauntlet against the man's helmet — slicing the comm unit without drawing blood — even Robin had to admit it was smooth.
Wally zipped beside him a second later. "Bet I could've done that faster."
"Bet you would've been heard a mile away," Damien shot back with a smirk.
Before Wally could argue, Sportsmaster's voice boomed from below. "I said double-time! Crates loaded in five!"
The Team readied themselves.
They struck from every angle. Superboy crashed through a stack of crates, scattering henchmen. Miss Martian threw two into the air with a telekinetic shove. Artemis' arrows pinned weapons to the ground.
Damien dropped from the rafters, gauntlets flaring to life. With a vibrating hum, his crimson energy blades extended a foot past his fists. He slashed through a rifle's barrel, the weapon falling uselessly in two.
A guard swung at him with a pipe. Damien ducked, swept his legs in a fluid spin, then backflipped over another attacker, slicing clean through the man's staff. He landed smoothly, not even winded.
"Stylish," Robin quipped as he flung batarangs into the chaos.
"Effective," Damien corrected, knocking two heads together.
But then a loud clang silenced the fight. Sportsmaster stepped forward, his mask gleaming under the lights, twin blades in hand.
"You kids never learn."
The Team swarmed him, but Sportsmaster fought like a whirlwind. His staff struck Robin out of mid-flip, his kick launched Wally into a crate, and his blade locked against Aqualad's water-bearers.
Damien lunged in, vibro-blades crackling. Sparks flew as steel clashed against pure vibrating energy. Sportsmaster's grin widened behind the mask.
"Finally, some fun."
They exchanged blows — Damien parrying with sharp precision, spinning into kicks and counters. Sportsmaster was strong, but Damien was fast, his strikes fluid like martial arts woven with acrobatics.
Still, Sportsmaster pressed harder, forcing Damien back step by step.
"Not bad, rookie. But not good enough."
Before the villain's blade could land, Artemis fired an arrow, forcing Sportsmaster to deflect.
"Stay sharp, CrossCut!" she barked.
Damien nodded, regrouping. "Team effort. Got it."
He ducked under Sportsmaster's swing, kicked his leg out, then let Superboy slam the villain into the concrete. Miss Martian restrained his arms telekinetically while Robin cuffed him with electrified binds.
Pinned and snarling, Sportsmaster growled, "This isn't over."
"Yeah," Damien said, breathing hard but steady, "but tonight it's done."
Back at Mount Justice, Batman waited.
"Sportsmaster escaped custody minutes after transfer," he said flatly. No surprise there.
The Team groaned.
"But," Batman continued, "you completed the objective. The weapons shipment is secure." His gaze lingered on Damien. "And you proved… useful."
That was as close to praise as Batman gave.
Still, not everyone was convinced.
"You're flashy," Wally muttered. "And reckless."
"Flashy?" Damien smirked. "Coming from Kid Flash?"
Artemis crossed her arms, frowning, but there was something thoughtful in her eyes.
Aqualad placed a hand on Damien's shoulder. "You fought with discipline. Welcome to the Team."
Robin just smiled knowingly. "Not bad for a rookie."
Damien exhaled, tension easing. He glanced around at his new teammates — some wary, some accepting, all watching him.
"Guess I'll stick around," he said.
Behind them, Batman's cape swirled as he turned to leave. "We'll see."