"Deathstroke, do you recognize this place?"
A Black boy on the flying carpet asked quietly. Perhaps sneaking through outer space was still too thrilling for someone his age; he instinctively feared that the people in the distant space station might hear him.
The armored figure at the front fell silent for a moment. He continued looking ahead, as though thinking.
The flying carpet continued forward slowly. After a moment, he said:
"Maybe."
It was an uncertain answer, more like an evasion, but no one else intended to press him. They merely waited quietly for what he would say next.
As if realizing he ought to explain more, the man called Deathstroke sat down. His voice came from behind his one-eyed mask:
"I still can't determine this Timeline, and we don't have enough intelligence. Let's head into Torch Space Station first and find out where the Moon went."
"Is the Moon important?"
The girl in the black leather jacket spoke up as well. She looked somewhat dejected and weary, the corners of her beautiful large eyes drooping.
"We're being watched. An eye is recording everything." Deathstroke pulled a Golden Orb from his belt pouch. It looked exactly like an eyeball. "At this very moment, we may already have changed styles in his records—dark and heavy. Even the method of narration has changed, like—"
The man only got halfway through his sentence when the marvelous flying carpet delivered the group to an edge of the space station. From there, they could see the lights of Earth, burning day and night like flowers.
He did not continue. The group slipped into the station's shadows, and darkness seemed to swallow their voices.
"He's looking for the Moon, Reed. The outsiders seem to know a great deal. We—"
A strange robot said this to the