Rhode Island was only a few hundred kilometers from Metropolis as the crow flew. Both were East Coast cities, and flying over on Cloak took only a few seconds more than teleporting while using less energy.
Of course, they had come here to find the Doom Patrol. It could not possibly be to find Young Justice, right? Those kids would be useless in an incident like this.
They flew over the pitch-black forest, following the dirt path below. The trees here still clawed and brandished themselves like treants, looking distinctly unfriendly in the night.
When they landed before the mansion, Su Ming found Robotman repairing a car some distance away—the Doom Patrol's battered old bus. Even in the middle of the night, it was clanging and rattling nonstop.
"Hey, Cliff. Good evening. Why aren't you asleep at this hour? Why are you fixing this thing instead? Planning to run away from home?"
Deathstroke jumped down from the flying carpet. Once everyone had landed on both feet, he waved Cloak back over his shoulders and greeted Robotman warmly, as though they were old friends.
Crows called from the woods, lending an already dim night an extra touch of eeriness. The mansion behind them looked like a Haunted House, while Robotman, lying on a mechanic's creeper, rolled out from beneath the bus.
"Oh, it's Mr. Deathstroke. Good evening. And several members of the Justice League."
He rubbed his hands, which were covered in grease. They clearly were not suitable for shaking hands, so he merely smiled.
"As for why I'm repairing a car at night, you know how it is. When a man's head is always buzzing, and he lives inside a mexican burrito, time doesn't mean much to him."
He was telling the truth. After undergoing brain surgery and receiving a