Original subtitles

Time travel is real,

and so are its consequences.

When a terrible time paradox put all of history in peril,

an elite team was formed.

Theirjob? To protect history

and repair these so-called anachronisms.

Unfortunately, this is not that elite team.

And yet, this team of misfits and outcasts is determined

to fix the history which they have broken.

Not because they are heroes, but because they are legends.

Previously on Legends Of Tomorrow...

Seeing Stein with his grandkid earlier...

You two are inseparable. Literally.

I want to break up Firestorm.

The totem's strength grows

when the threats that you must face become more powerful.

But you cannot face this new threat alone.

That amulet... It's a totem. We're bound together, somehow.

Cut the crap and tell me what we're facing here.

That information is need-to-know. The only thing you need to know,

your ridiculous team could never handle it.

They're the reason Mallus is a threat.

And there just might come a day

when we need the Legends to do what they do best.

You best stop following me, guv.

That is a most impressive scream.

In another era, you could have a career alongside Vincent Price.

Rigor mortis hasn't set in. He's been dead less than four hours.

Extreme pallor in the face and fingernails suggests

rapid blood loss, yet not a drop to be seen.

Killed off-site, his body dumped here far from the illustrious streets

of his upbringing. A handkerchief with his college crest.

A graduation gift, no doubt.

What do you make of that?

Improbably, it appears that our killer is a vampire.

You sure you want to do this?

Break up Firestorm?

I'm sure Grey wants off this ship and I'm sure that can't happen

if we're still bonded to each other, so...

Yeah, but your bond isn't just physical.

You guys have been psychically bonded for over three years.

Yeah, and it's been no picnic, let me tell you.

Last time I got laid, afterwards, Grey said to me,

"Well done, Jefferson." I mean...

Could've done without knowing that.

Does Grey, I mean, Marty know that you want to break up with him?

No clue, but if he did, he'd say it was too dangerous.

Well, if you're really determined to do this,

severing your psychic connection could give us some much-needed

mental space to figure out how to untie the nuclear knot.

- Well, let's do it. - Okay.

Here goes.

Oh! I forgot that there might be a couple side effects.

What side effects?

Um, just like, you know, facial swelling,

maybe a little gastrointestinal upset.

Oh, and short-term memory loss.

- How do you feel? - Uh...

Normal, except I'm not craving grapefruit.

Okay.

Ray, it's 9:00 a.m. and I'm not craving grapefruit.

Mmm. Delightful.

Let me get this straight. This ship can make any kind of food

you can imagine, and you three picked grapefruit,

a bran muffin and oatmeal.

After you try everything, you go back to the basics.

I lived my whole life eating rations and bland food.

From now on, I eat like a queen.

I'm glad you left 2042.

Actually, I wanted to talk to you guys about going back to 2042.

Or better yet, 2041.

I was thinking, why is my family dead when I'm on a time machine?

Unfortunately, that's not how this works.

I thought you could change the past.

We can correct the past and the future, but...

- We don't change it. - Why not?

Because doing so could cause unforeseen, possibly even disastrous consequences.

It's a temporal butterfly effect, if you will.

Try not doing something that would save your brother's life.

Does a sister count?

Wassup, shipmates!

I got exciting news to share. Team meeting in 10 minutes.

And, Mick, I have beer.

One lousy beer for breakfast.

It's breakfast?

Yeah. What time did you go to bed last night, buddy?

I didn't. Drank a lot of coffee. Can you tell?

Nate, why are we staring at an anachronism map?

Because, Cap'n, I did a deep dive on the data,

and the anachronisms we created at first glance seem scattershot,

random, but since history is cause and effect,

I decided to do a little experiment.

I folded the linear timeline onto itself, following the mathematics

of the golden ratio. Follow me.

Damn it, Gideon, that was your cue.

My apologies, Dr. Heywood.

Ah. See, the anachronisms form a pattern.

I should have guessed.

Though time may be broken, like all matter in the known universe,

it still possesses a mathematical harmony.

Not exactly. What about those two?

Those two are outliers. First one is Seattle, 2042.

When the assassin tried to kill me.

Right, while cool, not the part where, you know, you almost got killed,

it's not as cool as the other one.

London, 1895. How do I say this?

There's a vampire.

Half dozen men snatched off the streets...

Only to have their bodies dumped three days later

- completely drained of blood. - Vampires.

Waited my whole life to kill one.

Do you just carry that around all the time?

My whole life.

There's no such thing as vampires.

Increased immigration at the fin de siècle

and the fear that good Englishwomen would lose their virtue

to foreign predators is responsible for these ludicrous stories.

I say we go see what's so interesting about this anachronism.

Victorian London. Opium dens and low-cut corsets.

Arthur Conan Doyle and the rolling fog.

Syphilis, whores and vampires.

That's a strong smell of garlic.

It's tied around my neck.

Yeah, you're a regular Van Helsing.

That's from Dracula.

I'm reading it. Don't tell me the end.

Another vampire victim found dead in the street.

Oi! Give me that.

Whoa. Vampires, what the hell is he talking about?

The blood-sucking creatures that we're here hunting.

Oh, no.

Short-term memory loss, one of the side effects of the serum.

Shh. Come on.

- Who are you lot? - Oi. Scotland Yard.

We're here to see about these so-called vampire attacks.

And we're with the NYPD.

Nothing like a bit of cooperation

- from across the pond, right? - Uh-huh.

This one of the victims?

Unlucky devil.

Whoa! Mick!

You don't want him coming back to life, do you?

What's going on here?

Scotland Yard has already visited twice,

and if the NYPD is issuing ladies warrant cards,

then I'm the bloody Queen.

All right, who brought their phone?

Wasn't me. Even though I do love that song.

It's not a phone. It's a 2016 Palmer Tech 7G smart watch.

Hand it over.

I don't know what you're on about.

You want some of this?

Who does that watch belong to?

No? All right. Mick, stake him.

All right, all right.

A vicar was walking down the street, as calm as can be,

when a dead man fell from the sky.

It wasn't no normal corpse neither.

No identification, strange clothes and that there watch.

Which you stole.

He wasn't gonna miss it.

I will, though. That is the finest timepiece I've ever seen.

It did sell better in England.

So where's our John Doe now?

Uh, I buried him in Stone's Hollow,

and the next day, the first vampire victim was snatched from the street.

'Cause that corpse you buried was a vampire from the future,

- you idiot. - All right, time to go.

Who are you lot?

Tonight, we're grave diggers.

All right, we're looking for one unmarked grave among hundreds.

I say we split up, check them row by row.

Or we can start with the one that's already dug up.

Yes. Ah!

The vampire must have dug himself out before nightfall.

Damn it, that anachronistic corpse was our only lead.

Wait, did you hear that?

Kill it, kill it.

- Rip. - Rip?

- Welcome to London. - Listen, Englishman.

Those time pigs try to take me, I'll burn 'em alive.

The Time Bureau are not actually aware of my current whereabouts,

and as surprising as this may sound,

I need the Legends' help.

Ms. Jiwe, I was surprised to hear that you'd rejoined the team.

It's surprising me too.

I trust we're not under arrest?

- Far from it. - Rip?

Rip, where the hell did you come from?

- Where did he come from? - Where do any of us come from?

You know, what are the odds of that one lonely sperm

meeting with that one special egg?

You know, us science types are always still wrestling with the big questions.

We've answered those questions, Dr. Palmer.

Mmm-hmm.

I need Jackson's help with this. There's some GPS data on here,

and, um, it might be able to tell us where our dead man walking came from,

and, uh, where he's going. Or her. So, yep.

Oh, man, the short-term memory loss is worse than I anticipated.

Marty's definitely gonna notice.

It's okay, uh, I got this.

I'll just write myself a note, like, "Rip's back."

- Excuse me, what's going on? - Nothing, man.

You're acting awfully strange.

- It's... Temporal dysplasia. - Temporal dysplasia.

You know how that is.

Mmm-hmm.

- Lily. - Dad.

- Is everything all right? - Ronnie won't sleep.

Your lullabies are the only thing that work.

All right. Excuse me, priorities.

All right, little guy, it's time for you to go to sleep.

Hush, little Ronnie

Don't say a word

Come on, man.

All right, we'll continue with the plan.

But not until we figure out whose watch this is,

which could be difficult.

Digital Digest gave my software encryption

a five-padlock rating.

Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.

I didn't realize that you were praying.

Mecca's that way. I was just looking for my earring.

I wanted to talk to you about before.

I know that it's tough.

That I'm not allowed to save my family? Yeah, it's real tough.

You should take comfort that your brother wanted you to have that totem.

You reclaimed it. It's your birthright.

- It's your family... - Stop talking about my family

when you're telling me I can't save them.

What the hell was that?

This is the reason I asked you to stay aboard the ship.

The reason that I haven't returned home.

- We're connected. - What for?

I don't know. I was hoping that we could find that answer together.

Not to be overly sentimental, but, uh...

I've missed this place.

We'd love to reminisce with you but your Time Bureau is on our tail.

Makes us slow to help you out.

I'll get down to it then.

When I permitted the Legends to keep the Waverider...

Nobody permits us to do anything.

I had an ulterior motive.

Why does that not surprise me?

For the last five years, I've been chasing a phantom.

A name whispered across time and in every language.

Mallus.

A phantom mollusk, an evil shellfish?

"Mallus."

An evil so ancient and powerful that the Time Masters dared not speak his name.

Now, I believe that he is recruiting allies

from throughout time to his cause.

Now, anachronisms are the result of your breaking time.

Her idea.

But these outliers, they are most certainly the work of Mallus.

Now, the Time Bureau is a bureaucracy and lacks the imagination

to understand this particular threat,

and Director Bennett objects to my crusade.

Hmm.

I'm alone out here.

So, what I'm hearing is, your hot new girlfriend dumped you,

and now you're crawling back to your ex.

And I am no one's side piece.

You know, I think they're on to something here.

Look, sweetie.

We would love to take you back, but we don't know

how we could trust you again.

Would circumstances be any different if I were to call off

my hot new girlfriend's pursuit of you?

Mmm...

Deal.

All right, what's your plan?

Right, this outlier, the vampire is most likely the objective of Mallus.

Catch the vampire.

Catch Mallus.

Sounds like we're gonna need vampire bait.

Me?

Is it 'cause I'm handsome?

Pretty.

Pretty handsome.

Overcrowding and poverty made Whitechapel a breeding ground

for criminal activity, culminating in the Ripper's murders right around,

well, now.

Isn't history fascinating?

It certainly is.

Trusting the Englishman was a damn mistake.

You know we're all on comms, don't you, Mr. Rory?

I don't give a rat's ass.

No sign of any vampires.

I wish this was like a Kristen Stewart type.

All broody and sparkly.

Vampires don't sparkle.

You know, Mick, you and the vampire have a lot in common.

You both like to sleep in and, you know,

kill people.

Stein? What are you doing out here?

Looking for you, dear boy.

Nate. Nate?

We seem to have lost Dr. Heywood.

- Nate, answer me. - Look.

- He's got Dr. Heywood. - Let's cut him off.

Well, that was invigorating.

- Did you find Pretty? - No, we lost him.

We found potatoes.

Never fear.

The game's afoot.

"Methought I heard a voice cry, 'Sleep no more.'"

Professor Stein?

No, Shakespeare actually.

And it's "Sir Stein" to you.

It's not every actor who is knighted.

Oh, God, this can't be happening.

Thanks to your life blood, my master will finally make his return.

But there's much to be done in the meantime.

Oh.

Yeah, well, that wasn't creepy.

- Sara? - Nate.

- Where are you? - I don't know.

But I just had a chat with Professor Stein's

weird lookalike evil cousin.

Great-great-grandfather, to be exact.

The famous stage actor, Sir Henry Stein.

Astonishing.

The chances of us running into one of my ancestors

are astronomical.

Family lore recalls him as being an eccentric.

But then what can one expect from an actor?

He's also an occult weirdo who kidnapped me to feed his master.

Excellent! The vampire will lead us to Mallus.

Stay where you are, Dr. Heywood.

Yeah, that's not gonna be a problem.

Whatever they roofied me with fritzed out my powers.

- Can you describe where you are? - Uh, I think...

An operating room? All I know is there's a spooky-ass

red moon painting on the wall.

- What's that? - It's some of my research on Mallus.

"Beware the blood-red moon when the door

"that separates death from life will be opened."

It's the first line of an oath taken by the Order of the Shrouded Compass,

an infamous secret society of London's aristocracy

obsessed with the occult.

That sounds like the perfect place for an out-of-time vampire

to take refuge.

The Order also believe in the magical properties associated with...

A total lunar eclipse.

Which is set to occur right here in London tonight.

If I wasn't vampire hunting, I'd rob these rich bastards blind.

Hunting a tiger for sport, it's just perverse.

Can't believe we're in a time where women can't vote and the Internet's

not a thing.

Savages.

Anyone doesn't have a reflection,

they're getting a stake.

Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please?

Truly uncanny.

It's that 'stache that's astonishing.

I know you're not here for idle chit-chat

and aperitifs.

So please allow me to introduce the star of the evening.

A famed mystic who has come all the way from America

to communicate with the dead.

Madame Eleanor.

Can't believe people are buying this garbage.

I sense...

Someone in the room who longs to speak to a departed loved one.

Come, sit at my table if you have no fear.

Since we can't hack the watch for its GPS data,

we're gonna have to solve this one the old-fashioned way.

With fingerprints.

Okay, we got the coroner's fingerprints.

And the second one is mine, obviously, and the third one is unidentifiable,

and the fourth one is Oliver Queen.

Oliver's a time-traveling vampire from the future?

We gotta call Team Arrow, figure out what the heck's going on.

Return of the Mack

Pump up the world

Return of the Mack

Watch my flow

Return of the Mack You know...

About time.

I'm as excited as you are.

But we all must wait for the blood-red moon

before the ceremony may begin.

Oh!

Gross.

If you need me, I'll be right over here.

Sara. I could really use a rescue right now.

We're working on it.

Do you remember our mission from the Greyhill building?

Like it was yesterday.

Excuse me.

Could you tell me where the powder room is?

Oh, I've missed this.

Everyone, please, join hands.

There is a doubter among us.

I too was a skeptic once.

Before the spirits spoke to me.

But now...

I am their conduit.

Kahar.

Do you remember the night they came for us?

How fast you ran.

You abandoned me, Khaahar.

You let them kill me so you could live.

- No... - You are scared now.

Just as you were scared of A.R.G.U.S. then.

So much fear.

You were my big sister.

You should have protected me.

- Please... - Stop this at once.

You heard the lady.

Sara, our cover is blown.

We need to leave.

Wait, the vampire, that was you?

A two-pronged needle by my own invention

is hardly vampiric.

Then who's the stiff?

Nate, are you okay?

Does it look like I'm okay?

Instead of a sexy vampire, I get stuck with this weirdo.

He's all yours.

The Order has plans for our time-displaced corpse.

That's why they're kidnapping men and draining their blood.

It's for their ceremony.

Shall we find out who it is?

Whoa! Guys, I am digging the digs.

I mean, I have some serious lab envy over here.

Yeah? Well, check this out.

Whoa. Okay, well, I've analyzed that unidentified print

and got back 100,000 possible variations

on a complete friction ridge.

Okay, so do we have a match?

Unfortunately. I hope you guys have a bar on that ship,

because you're gonna need a drink. The watch belongs to...

Damien Darhk.

Darhk must be integral to Mallus' plan.

We can't leave Damien Darhk's body to be resurrected.

Darhk may be a madman but he's not the madman

we're presently after.

Guys, we have definitely overstayed our welcome.

Fall back.

The hell is going on?

We're not killing vampires anymore?

Captain Lance, need I remind you we are no longer just fixing

ordinary anachronisms here.

Mallus is the only game that matters.

No, it's your game. We have to stop Damien Darhk from coming back to life.

And we will.

But from all indications, Mallus is coming here to recruit Darhk.

If we destroy Darhk's body, we destroy any chance

of apprehending Mallus at the resurrection ceremony.

If Sara says kill Darhk, or re-kill Darhk,

or prop him up in a convertible like Weekend at Bernie's,

that's what we do, because she's the captain.

I know that you all want to destroy Darhk once and for all.

You're just gonna have to be patient.

I'd like to speak to you in private.

Good luck in there.

I'm not letting Damien Darhk come back to life.

- Full stop. - You've lost perspective.

You're letting personal prejudice cloud your judgment.

If I had, I wouldn't have put Damien Darhk back into the timeline

and erased his memory so that he could kill my sister again.

Look, Sara...

I understand how perilous it would be for Mr. Darhk to return.

Do you?

Because I am the only one in this room that's been resurrected

and it wasn't an improvement.

You're right.

You're right.

You've got to understand, Sara, that I've been chasing Mallus

for so long

that perhaps it is I who's lost perspective.

Never gonna learn how to knock, are you?

I'm concerned about you.

I know that you think that woman channeled your brother.

His name was Behrad.

The night A.R.G.U.S. came for us, I ran.

I knew he was staying to fight, but I was scared.

I left my brother there to die.

You happy?

Now you know my secret.

- Sorry. - Yeah, I don't want this anymore.

Whatever's going on with it, or with us,

I don't care.

That totem is your only remaining connection to him.

It's not a connection, it's a reminder.

That I should have been the one who died.

You know...

It's kind of weird not being able to sense Stein's emotions.

Don't tell me you're missing your psychic connection?

Oh, come on, of course not.

- Well, maybe a little, but... - Aha!

I've uncovered your ruse.

- You've been using my lab. - Your lab?

To impede our psychic connection.

It's the very foundation of Firestorm.

Actually, that's the foundation of Firestorm.

It's the formulae for building a thermocore.

No, playing hangman.

"Q."

Grey, don't take this out on Ray.

He was just helping me figure out a way we could...

Break up Firestorm.

So that you could go home and I could stay on the ship.

Oh, I see.

So, are you cool with this?

Why wouldn't I be? After all, you've only been here tinkering,

in secret, with how to split up

a walking, talking, living nuclear reactor.

- Of course I'm "cool with it." - Okay.

After everything we've been through,

how could you attempt something of this magnitude behind my back?

Grey, it's not like...

Oh, it seems we both share a craving for solitude.

- Is everyone aboard the ship? - As far as I'm aware.

Is there something I can do for you?

In fact there is. Could you please tell Captain Lance that...

I'm sorry.

- What are you doing? - Gideon.

Initiate Gentleman's Dreadnought.

Command code recognized. Are you sure, Director Hunter?

She left me no choice.

- Seven, six... - Gideon.

Five, four, three, two...

- It's Mr. Hunter. - What's he done?

- All the exits are locked. - And I can't override the command.

- Damn it, Rip. - Told you we should never

have trusted the Englishman.

Where's Zari?

Come in.

I was hoping we might meet again.

You channeled my brother earlier. I need to talk to him again.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I cannot merely summon the dead at whim.

Please, I need to tell him that I'm sorry,

and I have a way to bring him back. I can save him this time.

I could try.

I would need a memento,

something that belonged to him that I could focus my energy on.

Would this work?

So much power.

And you give it away so easily.

A mistake you're unlikely to repeat. Hmm?

Madame Eleanor, the blood-red moon beckons.

Restrain her.

I must prepare for the ceremony.

Damn, Gideon, how many secret commands did Rip program you with?

I believe this was the last of them, Captain.

Well, I'm captain now and I order you to override Rip's orders

and ready the ship for take-off.

Right away, Captain Lance.

Director Hunter's command allows you to fly the Waverider,

just not let any of you off of it.

Well, it's a start.

Plot a course for the Shrouded Compass.

Damn right, Capitaine.

And bring the ship's weapon system online.

Needless to say, it's highly likely that Mr. Hunter is in that building.

And I'm willing to bet that so is Zari.

You want an omelet, you gotta crack a few eggs.

When you welcomed me to the Order you were seeking proof.

Evidence that life does not have to end with death.

But the power that courses through my veins is not mine own.

It is a gift from Mallus.

Stop this abomination!

Everybody down, now!

Your so-called master, where is he?

Mallus is everywhere and nowhere,

refracted in every moment of time.

He is dead, he is risen.

And he will come again.

Right, that's very cryptic, but I demand to speak to him.

Oh.

Oh, very well.

Director Hunter.

Pleasure to meet you.

Oh, I'm not here to speak to your puppet.

I think it's about time you and I met face-to-face.

You could not look upon my true form and live.

While you are hopelessly mortal, I am a god.

You're too late.

It's good to be back.

Who stole my watch?

Our coordinates say we're right above the Order.

Prepare the shock missiles.

- Three pages left. - What are you doing?

Zari's in there.

I need you to target the cargo bay.

- Our cargo bay? - Shouldn't we have a team vote first?

If anybody has a better idea how to get the ship open,

now's the time.

Trust me, Jax, fire.

Shock missiles away, Captain.

Oh. This is gonna suck so bad.

Uh, Grey, if we're gonna die,

I don't want us to go out mad at each other, so...

I can't remember what for, but I'm sorry.

You were just thinking of me. Actually, I should be thanking you.

- Aw. Who wants to hold hands? - Ray, it's not friggin' Toy Story 3.

Everyone, shut up. I got one page left.

Any last words, Rip?

Yes, I remember you.

I remember everything.

Remember us?

Oh, goodie, more Legends. Here to kill me, I assume.

This time it'll stick.

That's my totem.

Let's go.

Till we meet again.

- Mmm. Not bad. A little tart. - If you can believe it,

Clarissa prefers to eat her grapefruit...

With salt. Yeah, I remember.

How?

I got Ray to restore our psychic connection.

I can feel how much you're missing your family.

Ever since baby Ronnie was born, it's only gotten worse.

It's like there's a hole in my chest.

I'm so sorry.

I never expected the birth of my grandson

would make being away that much more painful,

and I certainly never wanted you to share this burden.

But with this new Mallus threat,

and the return of Damien Darhk,

the team needs Firestorm more than ever.

Yeah, and the team can get Firestorm.

And you can go home.

If we can stabilize the matrix into my body.

T.S. Eliot once said, "Only those who risk going too far can possibly

"find out how far one can go."

So, when do we start?

As soon as I, uh, fix that giant hole in the cargo bay.

- Well, good luck with that. - Yeah.

Yeah.

Knock, knock.

Still not knocking.

You wanna sit?

Sure. Thanks.

This is gonna sound weird, but...

When my amulet came back to me,

I felt Behrad's presence,

like, almost like he was with me.

That doesn't sound weird at all.

First A.R.G.U.S., then that Water Witch

and now some formerly dead guy all wanna kill me.

My ancestor told me that the totem strength grows

when the threats we face become more powerful.

Fantastic.

I think what she meant is that...

You and I are gonna become great friends,

and we'll defeat whatever evil comes, together.

I like that.

We need to talk.

By now you know me better than to expect an apology.

Agents are dead because of you.

They understood the risks of their profession.

But we learned so much from the events of last night.

- Next time... - There won't be a next time, Rip.

You show up out of nowhere, practically begging for our help,

and then you betray us.

You've gone rogue from every organization that you've ever been

a part of.

'Cause you don't trust anyone.

I don't know how I could've ever trusted you.

Sara, I need you with me now more than ever.

Do you remember when you told me you had nothing left to teach me?

I guess you had one final lesson.

How to be a cold son of a bitch.

Director Bennett.

Director Hunter.

You've called in your last chit.

I should never have sanctioned last night's mission.

But the mission proved that Mallus is real.

Explain it to the tribunal.

In the meantime, you are being detained and suspended

from active duty.

You can't detain me.

I created the Bureau!

Then you of all people should know that no one is exempt from its rules.

Agent Sharpe.

Thank you for notifying us of Director Hunter's whereabouts.

Now the Legends are free to fly the skies?

Affirmative.

The Time Bureau has bigger things to worry about than a bunch of idiots.

Mallus is getting stronger, Captain Lance.

Last night was only the beginning.

There is a war coming,

and history needs you to be ready.

You and the rest of the Legends.