fic snippet
T - 5 hours and 48 minutes
The resistance, such as it was, did not and could not stay in one place for long; four of the six members were clearly metahuman and registered on the OMACs’ sensors, and both Dick and Ollie were registered as beta-level targets. Kyle privately felt that Dick should have been classified as an alpha-level threat; he was the one who’d held the dwindling resistance alive and together over the course of the past sixteen months. Dick’s classification with regard to the OMACs wasn’t really an important issue, though, and Kyle very carefully did not speak about how he thought it was precisely the beta-level label that had allowed Dick as Nightwing to work as efficiently as he had - while the OMACs concentrated on Carter and Kyle, Dick organized from the fringes.
Their current hideout was the shell of a cathedral somewhere in the south of France. Kyle hadn’t bothered to remember the name, which was long and unpronounceable and in French, which subject he’d failed in high school. There was a series of smaller rooms underneath the main level, and Kyle had barricaded one heavily enough to survive a zombie apocalypse in case one suddenly materialized. He couldn’t stop the choked laughter that bubbled up as his tired mind inextricably linked OMACs and zombies, telling him that he was already trying to survive the zombie apocalypse and that all the barricades he could put up in this tiny room wouldn’t be enough to keep them out.
The resistance, such as it was, did not and could not stay in one place for long; four of the six members were clearly metahuman and registered on the OMACs’ sensors, and both Dick and Ollie were registered as beta-level targets. Kyle privately felt that Dick should have been classified as an alpha-level threat; he was the one who’d held the dwindling resistance alive and together over the course of the past sixteen months. Dick’s classification with regard to the OMACs wasn’t really an important issue, though, and Kyle very carefully did not speak about how he thought it was precisely the beta-level label that had allowed Dick as Nightwing to work as efficiently as he had - while the OMACs concentrated on Carter and Kyle, Dick organized from the fringes.
Their current hideout was the shell of a cathedral somewhere in the south of France. Kyle hadn’t bothered to remember the name, which was long and unpronounceable and in French, which subject he’d failed in high school. There was a series of smaller rooms underneath the main level, and Kyle had barricaded one heavily enough to survive a zombie apocalypse in case one suddenly materialized. He couldn’t stop the choked laughter that bubbled up as his tired mind inextricably linked OMACs and zombies, telling him that he was already trying to survive the zombie apocalypse and that all the barricades he could put up in this tiny room wouldn’t be enough to keep them out.