149. Echoes of Trust. (Patreon)

“Doubt is easy; faith takes courage.”

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The hum of the zeta-tube filled the cavern of Mount Justice. One by one, the team stepped through—Artemis adjusting her quiver, Tim already scanning his wrist computer, Miss Martian and Superboy arguing over whose turn it was to clean the training bay. Aqualad was his usual composed self.

“Team,” Red Tornado’s synthesized voice carried through the hall, calm as always. “Today’s exercise will focus on cooperative threat analysis. Formation Bravo in the simulator room in five minutes.”

“Got it, Tornado.” Artemis replied, stretching her shoulders.

But before she could leave, Tim caught her arm. “Hey, uh—Artemis, can we talk?”

She turned, eyebrow raised. “Sure. What’s up?”

Tim leaned closer, lowering his voice. “You need to be careful.”

“Of what?”

He crossed his arms, face tightening. “I saw Jade. Working at that Italian place—‘La Fiamma di Casa.’ You know, the one with the ridiculously long name. She’s up to something, I can feel it. Probably League of Assassins related. Maybe she’s gathering intel, maybe she’s—”

Artemis tried to cut in. “Tim—”

“—I’m serious, Artemis. She could be playing some long game. You don’t just go from assassin to waitress overnight! I mean, she’s Jade Crock, Cheshire! Do you know how many international warrants—”

“Tim—”

“—and what if she’s using the restaurant as a front? The League’s used worse covers. You can’t just—”

“ROBINNNN!!!”

The sound echoed through the cave. Everyone in the training room paused and turned their heads.

Tim froze mid-rant, eyes wide. “…yes?”

Artemis folded her arms, exhaling sharply. “You done?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “...Maybe.”

“Good,” she said. “Because Jade’s not scheming. She’s trying to change.”

Tim blinked. “Change? Like… actually?”

“Yes. She’s got a job, a home and people who treat her like a person, not a weapon. That’s what she’s doing, Tim. Not plotting. Living.”

Tim’s frown faltered, skepticism giving way to unease. “I—I don’t know. It just doesn’t sound like her.”

Artemis stepped closer, her voice softening. “It didn’t sound like me once, either. But sometimes people can surprise you.”

For a moment, neither spoke. The hum of the Watchtower feed filled the silence. Then, from behind them, another voice broke through—calm, resonant, unmistakable.

“She speaks the truth.”

King stood a few feet away, as though he’d been there the entire time, shadows bending subtly toward him.

“King—” Tim began, half-startled, half-relieved.

“I have been nudging Jade’s path for some time.” King said, tone even. “Not by command or control but by guidance. A soul cannot be forced into light—it must choose to walk there. She has chosen.”

Tim straightened. “So… she’s really trying?”

King nodded once. “Her heart wavers but it beats toward the right horizon. That is enough.”

Artemis smiled faintly. “Told you.”

Tim sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I owe her some benefit of the doubt.”

King’s gaze lingered on him. “Doubt is not weakness, Robin. It is the boundary between vigilance and paranoia. You simply need to know which side you stand on.”

Tim managed a small smile. “I’ll… keep that in mind.”

Red Tornado’s voice carried from the simulator chamber. “Team, readiness in one minute.”

Artemis shouldered her bow. “You coming, or are you gonna file a twenty-page report about my sister’s pizza-cutting technique?”

Tim smirked. “Don’t tempt me.”

As they walked toward the simulator, King remained behind, his gaze drifting upward toward the vaulted ceiling.

Through the stone and circuits, his sight stretched far beyond—to a small restaurant glowing with warmth in the heart of Gotham, where Jade laughed awkwardly among the noise of clinking plates and Italian chatter.

The faintest trace of a smile touched his lips.

“Every ember counts.” He murmured.

And with that, he faded from view.