FrenzyAren
patreon
SM/DC Chapter 4 : Jump City
🕑 Added 2025-01-26 00:41:17 +0000 UTCAs the car cruised through the bustling streets of Jump City, Arthur’s gaze shifted to the signboards flashing by. The bright advertisements, local restaurant names, and the unmistakable skyline of a city caught between the mundane and the extraordinary gave him a strange sense of déjà vu.
‘Jump City?’ His brow furrowed slightly as the name clicked in his mind. ‘Wait... isn’t that where—’
His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden halt of the car. The tires squealed faintly as the driver hit the brakes, bringing the vehicle to a smooth but abrupt stop. Arthur leaned forward slightly, catching himself on the edge of the seat.
“Apologies, Master Arthur,” the driver said with a faint click of his tongue, glancing at the traffic ahead. “Seems we’re stuck.”
Arthur sat back and tilted his head to peer through the windshield. Cars were lined up in both directions, their brake lights glowing like a sea of red eyes. Drivers honked impatiently, some rolling down their windows to shout at the standstill. Arthur’s sharp eyes, however, caught something unusual further up the road.
A faint plume of smoke curled into the air, and there, in the middle of the street, was the unmistakable glint of metal. ‘What is that?’ Arthur narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the scene.
The driver sighed heavily, tapping the wheel in irritation. “Tsk, it’s those children again,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for Arthur to hear.
Arthur glanced at him, confused. “The children?”
The driver gestured vaguely toward the chaos ahead. “The Titans. They always leave a mess behind, and they’re always late to clean it up. Look at that—whatever it is, it’s blocking the entire road.”
Arthur’s curiosity deepened. He turned back to the scene, his gaze sharpening as a faint sensation washed over him. It was subtle at first, like a distant pulse, but it grew stronger the longer he focused. Something someone powerful had been here.
“Titans…” Arthur murmured to himself, his voice laced with intrigue. He’d read about the Teen Titans before, seen them in comics and shows. But this? This was different. This wasn’t fiction anymore.
Up ahead, he could now make out the source of the obstruction: a large, humanoid robot, its metallic body crumpled and sparking. Its head was tilted at an unnatural angle, wires spilling out like guts, and its legs were twisted beneath it as if it had been thrown with tremendous force.
Arthur’s instincts prickled. The faint pulse he felt wasn’t coming from the robot it was from near it. Someone, or something, had left a mark on the area, a residue of power that hung in the air like static.
The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Don’t let them fool you with their heroics, Master Arthur. They cause as much trouble as they solve. Just look at this mess—who’s going to clean it up, eh?”
Arthur’s lips quirked into a faint, wry smile. “Right… the Titans.”
The car inched forward as the traffic began to thin, other drivers maneuvering around the wreckage with exasperated glares. Arthur kept his gaze fixed on the robot as they passed it, his mind racing.
His hand unconsciously clenched into a fist. The power coursing through him felt like a small ember compared to what he’d just sensed. There were forces at play in this world that he didn’t yet understand, but one thing was certain: this wasn’t a place where he could afford to be weak.
“I know too damn well what it means to be a normal citizen in such a world,” he muttered to himself, a bitter edge of sarcasm in his tone. “Or at least, I’ve read about it.”
The car slowed, and before long, it turned onto a pristinely maintained driveway. Arthur’s eyes widened slightly as they approached a sprawling campus. Elegant gates with intricate designs marked the entrance, and beyond them lay beautifully landscaped gardens, fountains, and a grand building with towering spires that practically screamed affluence.
As the car came to a stop in front of the entrance, Arthur stepped out, his gaze sweeping over the school. The pristine uniforms of the students, the luxury cars pulling up to drop off others, and the aura of exclusivity were unmistakable. He let out a quiet sigh.
“Of course,” he said dryly, his lips curving into a sardonic smirk. “It’s a private school.”
Before heading inside, he turned to the driver ,who was shutting the car door, raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Master Arthur, you’re usually not this chatty in the mornings. What’s on your mind?”
Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, debating how to phrase his next words without sounding insane. “Listen, I’m gonna ask you some weird questions, so just roll with it, alright?”
The driver gave a light chuckle. “Master Arthur, in all my years of driving you, I’ve grown used to your antics. Fire away.”
Arthur’s face remained deadpan. “What do you want me to call you, and what class am I in exactly?”
His driver froze for a moment, then let out a hearty laugh. “I see Master Arthur is in a mood for jests today! Perhaps you didn’t sleep well?”
Arthur stared at him, his expression unchanged, the silence heavy enough to make him reconsider.
Clearing his throat, George straightened. “Well, if you must, you can call me George. And as for your class… you’re a junior here, in the eleventh grade.”
Arthur gave a faint nod. “Thanks, George. Be seeing you.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and made his way toward the grand school building, feeling the weight of his situation yet again. ‘Junior year, huh? At least I’ve got something to work with now.’
Arthur pushed open the grand doors and stepped inside. The interior of the school was as lavish as the exterior—polished floors, high ceilings adorned with chandeliers, and hallways lined with paintings that looked like they belonged in a museum.
He glanced around, already drawing a few stares from students passing by. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was late or if it was something else entirely. Guess it doesn’t matter, he thought, striding toward what he assumed was his classroom.
It didn’t take long for him to find the right room. He paused outside the door, steeling himself before pushing it open.
The teacher, a stern-looking man with glasses perched on his nose, immediately stopped mid-sentence. He turned to Arthur, his expression a mix of annoyance and exasperation.
“Arthur Blackwynd,” the teacher said, crossing his arms. “Late again, I see. Care to explain?”
Arthur scratched the back of his head sheepishly, flashing an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that, sir. Won’t happen again.”
The teacher sighed, gesturing toward the seats. “Just take your seat, and make sure it doesn’t.”
Arthur quickly made his way to an empty desk near the back of the room. As he sat down, he could feel a few curious gazes on him, but he ignored them, leaning back slightly in his chair.
Well, he thought, staring at the board and trying to blend in. ‘Step one of surviving this world: figure out what’s normal around here.’
