Terra met his eyes through the gap. "Don't," she said immediately. "Take the exit. I can—I'll figure something out—"
"Tick tock," Slade said cheerfully.
Hikaru drew the sword Lucifer had given him, light already blazing along its edge. The weapon hummed in his grip, as it resonated with his powers.
"What are you doing?" Terra's voice pitched higher. "Hikaru, no—he's trying to trap you—"
"I know." He drove the blade into the promethium-laced steel between them. Sparks flew, but the metal began to part. Slow, but cutting. "Doesn't change anything."
"You're an idiot—" Terra's hands pressed against the other side of the wall, her limited geokinesis trying to help despite the disruption to her powers. "You'll get yourself killed—"
"Probably." Hikaru poured more energy into the cut, gritting his teeth as the sword grew white-hot in his hands. The protective runes his father had etched into the blade flared to life. "But I can't help myself. I'm just not able leave the people I care about behind."
The containers around Terra groaned, shifting inward. Two minutes, maybe less.
"This is exactly what he wants!" Terra shouted. "He's testing me—testing if I'm worth saving—"
"Wrong." Hikaru's blade punched through to her side, opening a narrow gap. He immediately widened it, cutting upward in smooth, controlled strokes. "He's testing if we're actually a team. If we trust each other."
Another groan of metal. The walls in Terra's section were definitely closer now.
"And do we?" Slade's voice carried dark amusement. "Does the boy who's known about Terra's betrayal, truly trust the spy who sold out his team?"
Hikaru didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I do."
The cut was halfway complete now. Through the widening gap, he could see Terra's expression—something between horror and disbelief and desperate hope.
"Why?" The word broke from her throat. "After everything I did—"
"Because you chose us." Hikaru drove the blade deeper, forcing the cut faster despite the strain burning through his arms. "You had a dozen chances to actually hurt the team, and you didn't take any of them. You've been risking your life feeding Slade false intel for over a month. That's not a spy—that's a hero who made a mistake and is trying to make it right."
The containers. Ninety seconds.
"Touching," Slade observed. "But ultimately futile. Even if you reach her, you'll both be killed. Is one life worth two?"
"It's not about the math," Hikaru said. His blade was burning now, pure white light screaming against corrupted metal. "It's about the principle. We don't sacrifice our own—not ever."
Sixty seconds.
The cut was almost complete. Almost there. Terra had stopped arguing, just watching him work.
"You're going to die," she said quietly.
"Maybe." Hikaru grinned despite the sweat pouring down his face. "But not today. And not alone."
Forty-five seconds.
The blade punched through the final section. The cut was complete—a narrow opening, but enough. Hikaru sheathed his sword and extended his hand through the gap.
"Come on!" he shouted.
Terra grabbed his hand, and he pulled, using his enhanced strength to drag her through the opening. She tumbled into his section, and they both immediately turned toward the exit Slade had mentioned—
It was sealed. A solid wall of promethium-reinforced steel where the opening had been thirty seconds ago.
"Time's up," Slade announced. "And now you're both trapped. How heroic."
The walls in both sections began closing simultaneously. They had maybe sixty seconds before the space became too narrow to survive.
Hikaru looked up at the promethium mesh ceiling, then down at the contaminated ground. "Okay," he said. "This is bad."
"You think?" Terra's voice held an edge of hysteria.
"But not impossible." He grabbed her shoulders, making her focus. "Can you sense anything beyond the promethium? Any structural weaknesses?"
She closed her eyes, struggling to extend her senses through the interference. "There's... the drainage system. Three feet down. Old concrete pipes, no promethium."
"Can you reach it?"
"Maybe—if I push through the pain—" She was already straining, her hands pressed against the ground. Blood trickled from her nose as she forced her geokinesis through the promethium barrier. "It hurts—"
"I know." Hikaru placed his hands over hers. "But you can do this. I believe in you."
Forty-five seconds.
Terra screamed, and the ground beneath them shattered.
They fell through into darkness, into the old drainage system—wet, stinking, but open. Terra collapsed immediately, gasping for breath as blood ran from her nose and ears. The effort had nearly destroyed her.
Hikaru caught her before she hit the murky water. "Hey. Stay with me."
"Did we..." She blinked dazedly. "Did it work?"
Above them, the shipping containers completed their cycle with a deafening CRASH, crushing the space where they'd been standing moments before.
"Yeah," Hikaru said, pulling her to her feet. "It worked."
Terra laughed—a slightly unhinged sound. "We're alive."
"For now." Hikaru helped her steady herself, listening to the tunnel around them. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear fighting. His teammates, still engaged with whatever personalized nightmares Slade had prepared. "Can you walk?"
"I can run if I have to." She wiped the blood from her face, something fierce settling into her expression. "He tried to turn me against you. Against the team."
"I noticed."
"And you saved me anyway."
"Of course I did." Hikaru started moving down the tunnel, following the sound of combat.
Terra fell into step beside him, and when he glanced over, he saw her smiling through the blood and exhaustion—genuine, determined, certain.
"Yeah," she said quietly. "Yeah of course you did."
Above them, filtered through concrete and steel, Deathstroke's voice echoed one last time:
"Interesting."