The neon lights of the fair flickered in the humid night, colors bleeding across the asphalt like a chaotic painting. You came to escape—the noise, the thoughts, the endless orbit of Starfire and Dick. But fate had other plans.

You spotted her before she spoke—Blackfire, radiant and dangerous as a supernova ready to explode. Your chest tightened with dread and annoyance. Last time you tangled with her, you barely walked away. Now, she smirked like the queen of chaos, eyes locked on you with cruel amusement that made your nerves snap.

“You’re here all alone? I expected the big show,” she said, voice thick with mockery, crossing her arms, shadows sharp as her tongue.

You groaned, shifting. “Starfire’s not here. You came for nothing.”

Her smirk deepened, but her eyes stayed cold. “I know she’s not here. But I also know you’ll tell me where she is if I push hard enough.”

Your heart hammered. “It’s not like that. She’s busy with Dick. You know how it is.”

Blackfire’s eyes narrowed, sparks of old fire burning behind them. “Busy? Kissing him again, right? Typical. The sun and moon, dancing their little dance, while I’m left in the cold dark.”

You inhaled deep, trying to calm the storm. “Look, it’s complicated. You and Starfire... I’m not the one to fix that.”

She laughed—a low, dangerous sound echoing through the empty fairground.

“You think this is a joke, little human? I didn’t come here to waste time.” She stepped closer, voice dropping. “Starfire makes peace impossible—stubborn, full of sunshine and naive hope. Me? I’m the storm. The reckoning you don’t want but deserve.”

Your throat closed. Her venomous words, wrapped in silk, froze you. But beneath the menace, something raw and real shone through.

You swallowed. “There’s more to it. The world’s not that simple. The fair—” You gestured at the flickering stalls and spinning rides, “—maybe it’ll help you understand. Or get your mind off destruction plans.”

Her eyes gleamed unreadable. “You better entertain me, human. Or I’ll blow this pathetic rock up.”

You forced a weak smile and started walking, Blackfire falling in step beside you. The cool night air smelled of popcorn and fried dough; children’s laughter cut sharply through the tension.

“So,” she said casually, with an edge, “what makes you tick, human-boy? Always hiding, always quiet. I see you trying to be the shadow, the ghost. But ghosts aren’t invisible—they’re echoes of what once was. Know that?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you took in the chaotic lights, feeling their strange peace. Maybe she was right—you were just an echo: of fear, loneliness, strength barely controlled.

Blackfire caught your silence and smirked. “You’re tougher than you look. Stopping time, making yourself untouchable... not just power. Desperation wrapped in fear.”

You bit your lip, wanting to deny it, but she saw the cracks.

“Starfire sees the sun,” she whispered, voice soft for a heartbeat, “but you, human, you’re the moon—quiet, distant, controlling the dark. Holding your world together in silence.”

Her words settled heavy and strange.

She leaned closer, teasing again, “So, what now? You gonna show me your world? Or should I start counting down to the fireworks?”

You laughed, shaky but real. “Maybe… just for tonight, you could be less a storm and more... a guest.”

Blackfire’s grin sharpened, genuine for once—a flash of respect, maybe warmth.

“Fine,” she said. “But remember—this peace? Fragile. Like moonlight before dawn. And I’m always ready to shatter it.”

You said nothing. You kept walking, letting the fair’s noise drown out tension for a moment—the uneasy truce between sun, moon, and shadow holding—for now.