Deep in Jump city’s suburban neighborhood stood a man. He stood, cloaked in darkness, across from a modest suburban home. His stance was one that spoke of extreme skill and self-discipline. Coupled together with the array of weapons that he currently had on his person, and the state of the art body armor the man wore and one could easily assume that he was an assassin. That assumption would be correct, but at the same time it would be an understatement to call this man simply an assassin.

After all he as the best, a living legend, the man known to the underworld as the Terminator, or more professionally as Deathstroke, but he wasn’t here in jump city for a contract. Just the opposite in fact, sadly he was too late to be able to do anything. The house he stood across from was quiet; a deathly stillness that only arrived after a life shattering event. Unsurprising really, after all nowhere really is kept intact after a successful assault by one of the assassin guilds.

Still Deathstroke, or as he was known to the fledgling underworld of Jump city, Slade, stood examining the sight across from him a moment longer. He had come as soon as he head caught wind of what was happening. Yumiko, the wife of the couple that once lived in the house, had been a good associate of his, someone he would have willing called a friend even. A rare commodity in the blood drenched world he made a living in. Yet he could tell he was too late. After all it was too quiet.

Silently Slade slipped into the house, an easy feat made easier by the fact the front door was missing. As he walked through the house it he recreated the rampaging battle that tore through the house. Bullet holes and wood fragments showed that it was a shock and awe opening. The destroyed table stained with now cold dinner shows when it happened. Yet no blood was spilled in the opening volley, at least none from the defenders side.

The carnage continued though the house, as the family was herded away from the basement where there was likely a panic room and towards the upstairs. Slash marks, more bullet holes and large impact cracks show where the family made short lived stands and the blood splatters opposite these sites showed that despite being outnumbered Yumiko and her husband had the skill to overcome their opposition.  Yet they were forced back none the less, not by the sole numbers but something of a higher priority. 

The trip up the stairs showed the increase in viciousness by the defenders. Large chunks of the walls were missing and Slade could pick out pieces of the banisters impaled into the walls, but there were also the first signs of blood from those very same defenders.  Slade kept a slight chuckle to himself, the cops, when they finally showed were going to be in for quite the confusing time trying to piece together all of this. After all for all the carnage there were no bodies to be found so far. All proof of this assault had been taken with them once they had succeeded; But Slade had known that would be the case before he even entered.

It was at the top floor where things had come to a head. It looked like a tornado had landed within the building as practically everything had been reduced to splinters. Most of the walls had been torn apart leaving very little cover for anyone who stepped up here. In fact there was only one room still standing. One that Slade cautiously moved over too. Peeking into the room he found what it was he had been looking for Yumiko and her husband. Dead. Blood loss, from what he could see. 

With a sigh he stepped into the room. “Yeah, too late” He would say as he walked closer to the bodies of his friend and her husband. Having been across the world just twelve hours ago, it was impressive that he had been able to get back here before the blood had fully cooled, just not impressive enough to make it in time to lend his assistance.