Master of the Hunt, Part XVII

All parts linked here.

1400 hours, a nondescript hotel suite

Lunch long concluded, Huntmaster had begun plotting his next move. Neither Bombshell Blonde nor Sync had appeared in his databases, which unnerved him. If nothing else, there should have been at least a historical footnote, but, on the bright side, it meant that the war voice in his head had not forced him to fight them yet. It had remained dormant for a good thirty five minutes after he had come to, but even once it had powered on, it had stayed out of his way.

He had begun to don the equipment he had stolen from Batman when Sync approached him, wearing a single armoured gauntlet that was projecting a screen into the air.

“Oh good, you’re up and moving about. Is your face doing better?”

“Yes, much, thank you.”

“I’ve got Nightwing on the line and he wants to talk to you. Do you have a moment?”

Huntmaster fitted the second gun setup to his wrist.

“I suppose.”

Sync turned his wrist outward so that Huntmaster could see Nightwing on the screen.


“Afternoon. I’m just going to call you Huntmaster to save time, ok?”

“Sounds fine.”

“Another pod has landed and we believe it is a follow up from whoever sent you. Cyborg and I believe that you retain at least some control but that whatever this next threat is has probably had that glitch, for lack of a better word, resolved. We need your help to stand a chance of defeating it.”

Huntmaster cursed under his breath.

“Stay in your cave. I’ll handle it.”


“That’s my answer.”

Huntmaster turned away, sliding on his helmet. Drake terminated the link.

“Are you sure about this, kid?”


Drake nodded.

“Alright. I wish you luck.”


With that, Huntmaster strode through the door. A couple minutes later, Belle came into the bedroom to find Drake in his full suit of black and orange plate armour.

“What are you doing?”

“That kid is about to need more of our help, and I don’t intend to keep him waiting.”

Sync sheathed his glaive on his back just as Belle pulled him into a kiss.

“This is why I love you,” she said when she finally let him go. “Let me suit up.”


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