The Teen Titans stood assembled near the front entrance of the tower, bracing themselves to meet their newest member.
Tempest held up a banner with pure welcome, beaming like he was about to throw a parade. Meanwhile, Kid Flash and Speedy stood off to the side, both wearing the kind of grins that meant somebody was definitely about to get pranked.
In the center, Wonder Girl, Magik, and Nightwing stood ready to greet their fresh recruit. Raven lingered in the shadow of a pillar, her arms folded and hood drawn, eyes barely visible but watching everything.
"I heard he's Omni-Man's kid. That true?" Kid Flash asked, glancing toward Nightwing.
"Yeah," Nightwing replied, keeping his arms crossed. "Invincible's real name is Caleb Grayson. And yeah, he's the real deal. Been keeping an eye on him for a while. He's solid."
They needed a new powerhouse. Donna and Nightwing were picky—painfully picky. The Titans were their baby, and no one joined without clearing their gold-standard nonsense filter.
"Great! I got dibs on which pizza spot we get dinner from tonight!" Tempest declared with delight.
"Ugh. Moriarty's it is," Donna said with a chuckle, already bracing for whatever sugary monstrosity Tempest was about to order.
"Just... don't scare them off. These two aren't exactly team players yet."
"Two?" Speedy blinked. "We only got one on the invite list."
The others turned toward her, confused.
Before anyone could press further, the tower doors whooshed open. In walked Caleb, suited up but unmasked, flashing a smile that could probably get him elected class president and prom king in the same day.
"Hey, guys. Name's Caleb. Or Invincible. Whichever works."
Nightwing stepped forward and offered a handshake. "Nice to meet you. Welcome to the Titans."
Then he noticed the second presence behind Caleb. Same strong jawline. Same eyes. But the vibe? Completely different.
Where Caleb looked like he helped old ladies cross the street and filed taxes six months early, Mark looked like he lit that street on fire, flipped off the IRS, and still had the nerve to show up on time for dinner in a stolen car.
Duffle bag slung over one shoulder, leather jacket, and a red tattoo peeking from under his collar. His walk was casual—confident. Like, this wasn't a big deal. Like nothing ever was. Mark's smirk was lazy but sharp. The kind of smile that said I'm not here to impress you, but you'll be thinking about me later anyway.
"Alright, I'm here, DT," Mark said, looking right at Donna. "No need to shove me in a hole." A flicker of light passed through his eyes—blink and you'd miss it.
Donna smiled like she'd been waiting for the show to start.
Raven tilted her head under the hood, already feeling the magic radiating from Mark's clothes, tattoos, even the duffle bag. It was layered and complex, but calm. Controlled. Dangerous.
Magik had a... different reaction. She bit her lip as her gaze swept over him, locking onto the tattoo on his neck like it whispered sweet, eldritch nothings just for her.
"Whoa. We got the good and evil twins?" Kid Flash muttered to Speedy.
"Maybe," Speedy said, eyes narrowing. "Still trying to figure out which one's which."
"Trust me. I'm not the evil twin if we had to compare notes," Caleb said, his Viltrumite hearing letting him pick up on their conversation
"Who's this, Wonder Girl?" Magik asked, stepping forward and blatantly checking him out.
"Name's Mark Grayson," Mark said before Donna could. "Go by Hex."
Donna stepped in then, her voice firm. "He's trained. He's trusted. I've seen him in action, and I trust him to have your and Raven's back when the weird mystical stuff hits. Magic's not an easy job."
She didn't bother explaining more. The team had been running short—needed another heavy hitter and someone to split the mystical workload. Caleb and Mark filled those roles. Like puzzle pieces with teeth.
"Didn't know we were getting two," Nightwing said, still watching Mark closely.
"You didn't," Donna replied without missing a beat. "But I made the call. Trust me, you'll thank me later."
Nightwing gave her a look but let it drop. He trusted Donna's instincts—even if they came with sharp curveballs and the occasional flying sword.
Tempest walked over, tilting his head curiously. "You also possess the Viltrumite blood?"
Mark shook his head. "Nah. That genetic lottery went to the Boy Scout over there."
"Then what do you do?" Raven asked from the shadows.
Mark turned to face her properly, his smirk softening into something a little more serious. "Magic, kinda. Good with a couple of weapons. Some chaos. Depends on the day."
Raven's eyes narrowed slightly, interest sharpening. "Your aura doesn't follow natural flow. It's—"
"Wrong?" he offered.
"Unfinished," she corrected. "Like a sentence written in ink that bleeds off the page."
Mark looked at her for a moment. Then gave a slow nod. "Yeah... that tracks. Guess I'm still writing it."
Kid Flash raised a brow. "Okay, now I'm freaked out."
"Relax," Magik said, still looking at Mark like she was trying to solve a puzzle and also maybe ride the puzzle later. "I like the ink."
Mark caught the look. And smirked. "Careful," he said to her, voice smooth. "You stare too long and the tattoos might wink back."
Magik opened her mouth, realized she had nothing, and snapped it shut.
Donna muttered, "I warned you."
Nightwing decided to save her from imploding. "Alright, let's get you both settled. Caleb, we've got you in Tower Room 4B. Hex, you'll be in the guest wing. It's a little further from the others, but most of us weren't expecting you so your room is not prepped yet."
"Figures," Mark said. "Closest thing to a luxury prison, right?"
Caleb gave his brother a glance. "You're not gonna be a problem, right?"
"The team's? No," he said. "Everyone else? Depends on my mood."
There was a weight in his words. Not defensiveness. Just honesty.
--- Later that night ---
Magik wandered the hallway "accidentally" on her way to get a snack. She found herself paused outside Mark's door. It opened before she could knock.
"Curious or hungry?" Mark asked, leaning against the frame, shirt off, tattoo glowing faintly across his chest.
Magik blinked. "…Yes."
Mark raised a brow. "I was gonna crash early. You sure?"
Magik smirked. "You wish. I was just wondering if the tattoos are magic or if you're just really committed to the aesthetic."
Mark stepped forward slowly, eyes locked on hers, then reached past her, pulling a purple apple from the bag she was holding.
He took a bite. "Little of both," he said after a bite. "Wanna find out which ink bites back?" Then walked back into his room and shut the door before she could answer.
Magik stared after him, utterly blank. "…I hate him."
Big day tomorrow.
First impression in attitude: confusing.
First impression in combat: probably just as confusing.