The next morning, the team gathered in the training room. Yesterday was the handshake, the tour, the "don't touch that button" briefing. Today was the real test: prove you belonged—or get benched.
"Alright. Invincible, Hex," Nightwing said, gesturing to the reinforced arena behind him. "This is the training sim. Fully customizable scenarios, live combat, zero permanent damage unless someone gets creative."
He turned to the rest of the team watching from behind the glass. "We've got ten preset levels. Level 1 is 'mugger with a knife.' Level 10 is 'Superman with a grudge and no coffee.' Pick your poison."
Caleb smirked and nudged Mark with his elbow. "Wanna make it a contest? Higher level and fastest time wins."
Mark gave him a lazy once-over, then met his gaze with a crooked grin. "Sure. You first. I want to see how loud 'losing' looks."
Caleb strutted into the room, confidence radiating like a motivational speaker with delusions of grandeur. "Let's do Level 7."
Donna gave a low whistle. Kid Flash and Speedy exchanged impressed glances.
"Urban Ambush," Nightwing said as he queued up the program. "Keep your guard up."
The chamber flickered. Skyscrapers rose, digital civilians bustled across crosswalks, and for a moment, it looked like an ordinary Tuesday in Metropolis.
Then the sky exploded.
One of the towers above Caleb cracked in half, a thunderous boom echoing through the sim as debris came raining down like punishment. Caleb reacted fast, but not fast enough. He rocketed upward through the falling rubble, prioritizing himself over the civilians below. The choice didn't go unnoticed.
Donna crossed her arms. "He missed the point."
Nightwing just sighed.
As Caleb cleared the dust cloud, a sharp crack rang out—then another. Three shots sliced through the air, and one punched clean through his side. He staggered midair.
"Nth metal rounds," came a voice from the shadows of a rooftop. "For the stubborn ones who think they're bulletproof."
Caleb's eyes snapped to the source: Deathstroke, perched coolly with a sniper rifle, already reloading like this was target practice, and Caleb was the afternoon session.
Caleb dove behind a car, clutching his side. Deathstroke didn't wait—he dropped in from above, sword flashing. Caleb caught the blade with his forearm, gritting his teeth as it carved shallow into his skin.
It ended when Caleb tackled him into a power station. The resulting explosion knocked them both flying, but Caleb stood first. Deathstroke vanished as the sim ended.
Caleb walked out of the sim with his injuries healed from the virtual environment, but his pride was wounded. "Time?" Caleb asked.
"Six minutes, forty-two seconds," Nightwing said flatly. "Mark, you're up."
Mark walked down with his usual outfit, including a leather jacket and fingerless gloves, before saying, "I'll take Level 1."
This made several of the Teen Titans raise some eyebrows while Donna just laughed at it, already having expected this.
Nightwing shrugged and pressed number one, changing the environment to a dark alley. A man with a knife stood a few feet in front of Mark with a small switchblade in his hand.
"Hand over the money!" the mugger yelled, his eyes bloodshot
Mark just smirked, which caused the guy to yell and lunge forward. Mark sidestepped him while punching him in the throat at the same time. The man collapsed to the floor while holding his throat as the hologram faded into particles of light.
"4.3 seconds," Donna Troy announced while turning to Nightwing. "Not bad, right?"
"That gave us zero clue what he can do," Speedy answered in Nightwing's place
"No," Raven disagreed. "It showed control and restraint. That's something rare with heroes our age."
"And he looked good doing it," Magik added on, the other Titans looking at her as if she were a weirdo. Caleb especially felt off hearing her compliment his brother like that, being the one used to the spotlight.
Mark walked over to everyone with the same smirk he had on his face when he walked into the training simulation.
"Anyone could have done that," Caleb unconsciously said, and Mark nodded in agreement.
"True. But you didn't," Mark challenged Caleb with his eyes. Luckily, they weren't Kryptonians, or else the room would be on fire.
"Good work, both of you," Nightwing interrupted before anything could happen. "Caleb, we will work on controlling yourself and the battlefield more. Mark, we need to see more of what you've got to plan better. But these were good foundations."
Both nodded, and everyone filed out of the room except for Donna Troy and Mark. The two shared a look, and Mark just let out a sigh before heading back down to the training sim. Donna smiled and clicked on Level 7 for him.
The scene was a different one that the one Caleb faced. Mark was standing in the middle of a large arcane library with books and statues damaged and all over the place, only a small portion still looking usable. Felix Faust was standing in the middle of the room with a magic circle around him as well as several undead knights.
Mark summoned a gold card between his fingers. "Saber. Activate."
The card shattered into motes of light while Mark was covered in silver and red armor that covered his entire body, a horned helm, and a silver broadsword.
The undead knights charged toward Mark, but he was faster, a burst of red energy appearing around the feet as he kicked off with an explosion and appeared in front of the knights. Mark spun in a circle and quickly beheaded all of the knights that Faust was using for his protection.
"What did you do?" Faust asked while creating a barrier and channeling a large amount of magical power.
Mark didn't respond but the helmet began to shift and move, transforming into extra armor around his nape and upper back. This revealed the tips of Mark's hair turning blonde, his eyes becoming a fiery amber color, and a smirk that looked even cockier than normal on his face. The hilt of Clarent's opened up as blood-colored energy began to flow around the blade in a chaotic pattern. One could feel the violence coming from the blade and the wind that began to rumble around the blade made it sound like war was present.
"Clarent Blood Arthur!" Mark called out when he raised Clarent above his hand and slashed down, unleashing a giant wave of energy that instantly destroyed Faust's barrier and the sorcerer himself.
The hologram ended while Mark released his Servant Form and transformed back into his normal leather jacket-clad look. He walked out to see Donna looking at him with approval in her eyes.
"37 seconds. Not bad, but I would have beaten it in 30," Donna taunted
"I know. Held back since I don't wanna beat your record on the first day," Mark shot back instantly, always having 20 or so remarks whenever someone talked with him.
Donna Troy shook her head as Mark walked out of the room. "You're gonna do great here, little brother. Just need to let more people see the hero and less leather."