[Leonard Snart's POV]

I stood with the gang, waiting for Tom. He always had a knack for crazy ideas, and this time was no different. He had even changed the plan at the last minute, but I couldn't help but appreciate his outside-the-box thinking. Fortunately, we managed to acquire a horse for our mission – well, technically, we stole it.

"Hey guys, I see you managed to get everything ready," He remarked as I spotted Tom descending with Black Mask and an injured man in tow, holding them both by their shirts.

"Who's the other guy?" I inquired, studying the unfamiliar face. My memory for faces was usually spot-on, but this one didn't ring any bells.

"Oh, him? He's one of Black Mask's lackeys. I thought it would be fitting for one of his subordinates to watch him meet his end," Tom casually explained. I glanced over at the hostages, noticing that they couldn't move or speak, thanks to whatever Tom had done to them.

"You're a sick bastard," Deadshot chimed in, while Deathstroke and Red Hood prepared for the final part of our mission.

"Ready to go," Red Hood announced.

Tom used his powers to strip Black Mask of his clothes including his underwear, rendering him helpless. Black Mask's eyes widened in fear, but he couldn't scream, thanks to a piece of duct tape Deathstroke placed over his mouth. He was about to endure a brutal and humiliating death.

"Goodbye, Black Mask. Oh, and Ghost sends his regards," Tom said, and then Deathstroke set fire to the horse's tail. The horse bolted down the rocky road, dragging Black Mask along, leaving a gruesome trail of blood behind.

"Now that you've seen your boss's demise, it's only right for you to welcome him in the afterlife once he gets there. Don't you think?" Tom declared as he approached the other captive.

He leaned in close to the terrified man and asked an absurd question, "Do you know what happens when air bubbles slip into a man's veins?"

"No… No, please don't kill me," the man pleaded, but his words fell on deaf ears. Tom seemed intrigued by the man's fear, and even Deathstroke was amused by Tom's wild imagination, rather his creativity.

"Shhh," Tom hushed the man, attempting to calm him. He leaned in even closer, asking, "Relax. Just answer me. Do you know what happens?"

"No, I don't, but I know it can't possibly be good," the man stammered. There might have been a time when he would have faced death with pride, but now, facing someone as overwhelmingly powerful as Tom, he could only hope for a swift end after witnessing Tom's brutality.

"Well, I guess it's time you found out. After all, experience is the best teacher," Tom said as he placed his gloved hand on the man's chest.

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After some more pleading, Tom seemed to take pity on the man, shocking the rest of us.

"I was just following orders. I'm sorry. Please don't kill me. I won't say a word to anyone," Black Mask's henchman begged, and we all watched in wonder at how this unexpected drama would unfold.

"How about I let you go?" Tom offered, sparking a glimmer of hope in the man's eyes.

"Fuck no," Jason, always the hothead, protested.

"Relax, Red Hood," Tom said, drawing our attention. He was clearly crossing a line with this act.

"You've got to be kidding me," Deadshot remarked. "Let's just smoke this fucker already," he added and with a pistol pointed at his head, while Deathstroke remained silent.

Tom turned back to the man and removed his hand from his chest. "Run like hell and don't breathe a word about what happened here tonight or at your boss's place."

"Yes, I won't. I swear on my life," the man promised before getting up and sprinting away from us. Jason wanted to pursue him, but Deathstroke stopped him. I signaled Deadshot to lower his gun.

Suddenly, the escaped henchman collapsed to the ground, clutching his chest as if trying to reach his heart. He struggled for a moment before taking his final breath, his eyes crimson as if he would cry blood any moment.

"What... What did you do to him?" Jason asked, confirming the man's death.

"No biggie," Tom replied, offering a brief explanation. "I simply injected air bubbles into his veins, the ones responsible for carrying blood to the heart. The others clogged his arteries, cutting off blood flow, especially to the brain."

"Scary," Deadshot commented, following it with a sarcastic whistle.

"Well, at least when the police find the body, they'll only see his prints on Black Mask's body since we're all wearing gloves," I remarked.

"They might think he killed his boss and then committed suicide," Deathstroke added.

"Exactly," Jason marveled at how smoothly Tom had covered up Black Mask's murder, leaving no traces to us.

If anyone tried to investigate, they'd hit a dead end – the dead pilot, the collapsed building, and Black Mask's death far from his territory. It was time to call it a night as we each returned to our respective hideouts. But before we left, Deadshot approached Tom.

"You're one sick bastard, you know that?" he commented. Tom responded with a double tap on his shoulder before levitating into the night sky.

"Goodnight, fellas. It was a fun playdate. Hope we get to do this more often," Tom said before disappearing. Jason and I hopped on his bike and headed home, leaving Deathstroke and Deadshot behind.

"Welcome back, fellas. From the looks of it, you had quite the evening," Tom remarked with audible sarcasm as he munched on chips and watched a movie.

"Yeah, it was one hell of an evening. I haven't been this worked up in a long while," I admitted. Tom was acting this way because Jason wasn't yet aware of his identity as Ace the Tyrant who we spent all night with.

"Hey, don't finish all the chips," Jason said, snatching the bag from Tom as he settled onto the sofa with the TV remote in hand.

"So, how was your first day on the job?" I asked Jason, hanging my jacket on the coat rack before taking a seat.

"It was like the usual, just with a team. It's been a while since I've worked with a team," Jason replied, recalling his lone wolf days after taking up the Red Hood mantle.

"Oh, I see... Did you get to meet that Ace guy?" Tom inquired casually, curious about Jason's impression of Ace now that they'd met in person.

"Yes, I did," Jason replied tersely, his attention focused on the TV. It was apparent he might end up playing PlayStation later as he couldn't find anything to entertain him.

"Really now? What was he like?"

"He was just as I imagined him to be, just like on the TV broadcasts."

"I sense a 'but' coming," Tom prodded.

"But he was even crazier than I could have imagined. Seeing the aftermath of what he did to those men and the kind of power he held made me question his mental stability."

"Why do you say that?" Tom inquired, genuinely curious.

"He was willing to push criminals to their limits until he broke them, body and soul. He's a complete freak. I wonder if that's the kind of person heroes need to become to permanently subdue crime," Jason concluded, his tone low as he contemplated the matter.

"Well, everyone has their own ideology and opinions about this world. He has his, and you have yours. Just stay true to your convictions; it'll work out," Tom reassured him, giving Jason a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"If you'll excuse me, I have some work to do," Tom said before getting up and heading into his room.

I watched him as he walked towards his room, how time changes people. He was no longer that frail little bartending brat I persuaded into joining my way of crime, now he was something else entirely, a different monster in his own.

Although he talks the same and acts the same, his mind and thoughts aren't the same as it used to be. He's slowly changing and his heart is starting to become more cold than mine ever was, I just hope this lifestyle of he's doesn't consume him at some point.