Five other people in the room. Derrick trusted each one on different levels.
Jason he would endow his life to if need be. However Derrick did not know how much brainwashing was left behind in his friend's mind. Further tests of mental state required to determine trustworthiness.
After only a few days after knowing Brian, Derrick also trusted the awkward teen. At first glance Derrick could read Brian like a book. He fears that emotional attachment may once again crush his feelings.
Night was quiet and often quite snarky when she did speak, Derrick respected that. He has known Night for years, but her unstable emotions make her a liability.
Vexen needed serious therapy, and quickly. His spitfire attitude towards authority would someday endanger Vexen's life. Derrick planned to have Hailstar help Vexen's mental state. The burdened teenager needed someone to lean on.
Hailstar was something of mystery and legend. Her predecessors set the baseline for most mythologies. The immortal girl has a pleasant personality, Derrick did not know how she kept it up. Often he questioned her choice to not take lives, but he is not one to talk.
Hailstar surprised Derrick when she revealed her secret identity to Brian and Vexen. He supposed she trusted them. Unfortunately Derrick's trust was much harder to gain, and he does not plan on anyone outside of the room knowing of his double life.
"Aura?" Vexen said.
Aura: Latin- Translation; Breeze. Word derived from Greek. Eighteenth century origins.
"Yes," Hailstar nodded. "That's my last name. Why?"
Vexen connects this surname with a person he knows or knew formally. Facial expression indicates grief or shock, perhaps both.
"It was Archwind's first name too." Vexen's volume was just above a whisper. "She called herself Aura Winters."
  It intrigued Derrick that Vexen did not choke up on his grief. He himself certainly wasn't over...never mind that.
  "Oh yeah," Hailstar ran a hand through her platinum hair. "She is a descendant of mine."
  "Was," Vexen mumbled. "And you're pretty nonchalant about all this!"
  "Sorry," Hailstar winced.
  "How is that even possible?" Skull questioned.
  "What part?"
  "The descendant part." Night finished for Jason, already knowing what he was going to ask.
  Night and Jason had a connection that Derrick rarely witnessed. He hoped that someday Brian and himself could have a normal relationship. One where Derrick wasn't a burden. Get back on track, Derrick.
  "I did have a sister," Hailstar sighed. "She didn't enlist like I did, and begged me not to. After I joined the WAVES program in '42, my sister - Jennifer - went on to have kids, and they had children. So on and so forth."
WAVES: Women Accepted For Volunteer Emergency Services. Established in 1942, not used for any battles.
"Oh," Vexen trailed off, staring at the floor with silent sadness.
"Hey, Heather," Brian spoke up. "Can I call you that?"
"Sure."
"You were in WAVES?"
"I had a degree in oceanology, so I got in pretty fast. Plus I was in college, so recruiting news travelled quickly.
"I'm lost," Vexen said. "What's WAVES?"
"It was a women's navy reserve set up in World War Two," Derrick explained. "They patrolled mainly in the Pacific Ocean, Hawaii and Alaska. Did you guys even fight any battles?"
"I went on a men's ship," Hailstar grinned. "Not on the records." Her face fell. "I shouldn't have done it though, got us all killed."
Hailstar's voice hollowed the more she spoke, the air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. The immortal woman's white eyes began to shine like flashlights. The experienced vigilantes - Jason, Night, and Derrick - all jumped up into the rafters. Even Brian rushed to the far wall away from Heather.
The air screamed, wispy white light swirling around Hailstar. As the room begin to shake, Derrick assessed the situation. Vexen stood unmoving near the catastrophe. This sight baffled Derrick, Hailstar always had great self control. To see the cheerful girl send pulses of light beneath her feet in brilliant flashes almost frightened him. Almost.
Is Hailstar having visions? Derrick thought, She has never lost control of her powers before. Need to save Vexen, or whatever is happening to Hailstar will happen to him.
First Derrick pulled Brian up the rafters with his telekinesis, eliciting a yelp from the older teen. When Brian looked up at Derrick with wide blue eyes, Derrick had to force his mind back on track. He leaned Brian onto Skull, ignoring the buzzing in his ears.
As soon as Derrick dove down to grab Vexen, the room imploded.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Images flickered by too fast even for Derrick's mind to process. Even though he had trained himself to mental peak, his mind could not handle the raw knowledge of Hailstar. Whatever - whoever created Hailstar, was far above the extent of humanity.
It felt like hours, but Derrick tried to force himself to accept the amount of memory Hailstar was expelling mentally.
Right when the intensity of the visions became too much for him to bear, everything went silent. Derrick knew that he was not in the physical plane of existence, he did not feel pain or the sense of touch. Everything around him was empty, it reminded Derrick of when he gained his powers and he was in a coma for months on end.
Back then the only reason he did not panic when he woke up was because... Adrian was there.
That's all in the past, let it go. 
He failed him.
All his fault.
Failure.
Liar.
He promised him.
Too late.
Too slow.
His fault.
He needs to let...it...go...to let it...
Derrick realized what was happening to him.
Perpetrator is taking memories of grief, most likely from... Adrian.
"What is this?" Derrick growled. "Trying to make me feel guilty?"
His fault.
Liar.
"That is not just guilt, now is it?" A dark, twisted voice whispered. The voice made his instincts flare up in warning. "Oh no, that is far worse than guilt."
Guilty.
Didn't even try.
Could have done something.
"Whoever you are," Derrick spun around in the darkness, "you are messing with the wrong person."
Too slow.
Will never forgive him.
Lost forever. Because of him.
  "You'll have your opportunity in time, Duskfall. For now, I will send you to your comrades."
  After being in complete darkness, the dim lighting was near blinding. He blinked the spots out of his eyes. Derrick shot up, kicking the first body near him. A dark green form flew into the wall with a sickening crunch.
  "Derrick, stop!" Brian's voice brought him out of his shock.
  Night writhed on the floor most likely with broken ribs. Jason helped her up, a glare pointed at Derrick. For a moment Derrick felt guilt, but he let his face remain blank. Vexen waved Jason aside, placing a glowing hand on Night's armored torso. The color returned to Night's face, her ribs healed.
  "Thanks," Night straightened, turning to Derrick. "What the heck Payne?!"
  "What did you expect me to do?" Derrick didn't understand Night's anger. "Where are we?"
  "I'm not sure," Skull said, "Hailstar is still knocked out."
  "You were freaking turning to shadow," Brian looked sincerely concerned, "not like Jason does, you were deteriorating away."
  Derrick examined the room they were in. The walls were steel, the stability of the room suggested that they were in a ship. There was a locked metal door with no keyhole. He held his hands out to use his powers, but there was no buzz of electricity in his palms.
"Jason's powers don't work either," Brian commented, "he tried going into a shadow but just looked constipated."
Hailstar gasped awake, her domino mask somehow back on her face. When she saw everybody staring at her, she raised an eyebrow.
"Who died?" She asked. "Hey where are...."
Derrick would recognize that look anywhere. Nostalgia. Her face scrunched in pain, placing a shaky hand against the wall. Hailstar started breathing heavier, as if there wasn't enough oxygen in the room.
"What is going on Hailstar?" Derrick said.
"This isn't a physical place," Hailstar whispered hoarsely. "This is a memory."
The door opened. A young man peered into the room, shaggy blond hair peeking out from under his U.S. Navy cap.
  "Come on, Heather!" The man grinned, "this is your first patrol, enjoy it!"
  A silhouette of Hailstar appeared, with livelier skin and sharp blue eyes. Instead of platinum, Heather's hair was a dirty blonde. She wore a Navy uniform as well, retrofitted for a women. Heather held herself with authority, as if she knew how much she sacrificed to get where she was.
  "I don't see why I need to be on deck," Heather said, standing at attention. He recognized her former accent, it was the slight twang of New York.
  "Would you drop the formality?" The man stepped inside, "you're higher rank than me."
  "On a women's ship maybe," Heather frowned, her voice masking displeasure.
  "After nine months and this is what we're talking about?"
  Have had previous encounters, possibly militaristic. Body language suggests preliminary romantic relationship. Must gather further intel.
  "Matthew, come on-"
  "I heard there's a storm coming, want to go help direct?"
  "I should stay here," Heather shook her head, her misty form leaving trails of smoke.
  Derrick tried to speak, but his voice did not come out. He realized that he couldn't see the rest of the group either.
  "Why do you put yourself so low?" Matthew took Heather's right hand. "You have proven yourself countless times, the men respect you."
  "The navy doesn't," Heather murmured, then looked surprised at what she said.
  "Come to the brig," Matthew insisted, smiling friendlily. "If any man tries to argue with you, sock 'em in the face."
  "Challenge accepted," Heather's expression brightened a hair.
  The view shifted, following Heather and Matthew out of the room. Up a few ladders and down hallways lead Derrick to a control room. A few men glanced at Heather, but they quickly return to their work. Matthew leaned over another person's soldier, pointing at a sonar chart.
  "Admiral Wilkes," Heather saluted with perfect form to an elder.
  "Captain Aura," the admiral nodded. "As you were."
  "Sir, I am not officially designated as a captain-"
  "After all you have done for this country, you are one."
  "Thank you, sir."
  Heather's face remained placid, but Derrick could sense her pride. Matthew approached the two with a worried frown.
   "Admiral. We have picked up a ship on sonar."
  "Lieutenant Richards. Is it Japanese?" The admiral questioned.
  "We are not sure," Matthew replied. "They have not transmitted yet, but we aren't certain if it is an Allies ship."
  "Have the weapons on standby," the admiral ordered, "stay far enough away so that we can get a look at this ship."
  "Yes, sir."
  As soon as Matthew returned to his station, Derrick watched the lights flicker. The busy control room went into silence with only the ping of sonar.
  "You waiting for a show?" The admiral barked. "Back to work!"
  Awkwardly the men began comparing notes and peering out the control room windows. Then the boat lurched, and everyone standing got thrown down. The night sky outside the boat flickered as if the sky was unsure what time of day it was.
  Heather excused herself pushing open the door and going onto the boat deck. She pushed past a crew member, running to the front of the ship. Derrick widened his eyes at the sight in front of him. A huge cloud of shadow was above the water half a kilometer in front of the destroyer ship.
  Inside the black cloud, white lights flashed like small explosions. Heather inhaled sharply, shouting at one of the crew to go to the bridge. Derrick pained for Heather, because he knew these situations never ended well.
  "I hope this is just some storm," Heather muttered.
  As the boat got closer to the fog, Derrick recognized that the boat was not turning. Heather furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, then sprinted towards the control room. When she slammed the door open, Derrick couldn't help but widen his eyes. Everyone in the room appeared to be unconscious or dead except for two.
  "Matthew!" Heather yelled, stepping over bodies towards the blond.
  The lieutenant slammed his fist into another officer, then turned towards Heather. His eyes were filled with wild panic, face contorted in rage. It looked unnatural on the formally calm young man. Heather made a sound like she'd been punched.
  "Matthew?" Heather took a step back.
  Her friend ran towards her in a savage way, eliciting a cry from Heather. She tried to escape out the door, but couldn't run over all the bodies around her feet. A glowing figure crashed through the windows, slamming into the metal wall. A shadow flew through the shattered window and into the angelic figure, light meeting dark in battle. Matthew tackled Heather to the ground, hands locking around Heather's windpipe. Heather gasped, trying to stop her friend. Matthew's eyes were pure black, even the whites.
  In the background, the light Valravn was stabbed through the back with a curved sword. The glow faded from the pure Valravn's eyes, light seeping out of his wound. As Heather heaved for air one last time, the wispy light of the former Valravn travelled towards her dying form. Meanwhile the dark Valravn's shadowy form was glowing red, as if killing its good counterpart gave it power.
  The light cocooned itself around Heather, causing Matthew's possessed body to crash into the metal wall as well. Hailstar jerked violently, her hair lightening. As her eyes flew open, the deep blue color of her irises faded away. When the light finally disappeared into Hailstar, the shadow Valravn dissolved into the night sky.
  Hailstar shot up, breathing heavily. The first thing she did was clutch her head, it was probably all the knowledge flooding her mind. Light poured out of her back, solidifying into her trademark wings. Heather writhed in pain, somehow managing to stand up. She felt her throat, the source of her death. Derrick had heard clips of Heather's backstory before, but nothing this vivid.
It wasn't like his past was not terrible, it was. However Hailstar lost everything in her life within minutes. Derrick figured she might have lost some of her sanity.
The vision faded away, the world falling into darkness once more. Empty space was around him, with no sense of gravity or senses. The growly voice spoke in his head again, like a knife scratching against wood.
"Do you really think your friend is sane?" The voice crooned.
"Saner than you?" Derrick raised a mental eyebrow. "Definitely."
"Hehe," the voice chuckled. "I am merely an agent of chaos."
"Astaroth," Derrick sighed.
"Took you long enough," Astaroth cackled. "How's Vortex?"
"You son of a-"
"No need to get violent now, though that would be entertaining." Astaroth mused.
"What do you want?"
"You have some very interesting relationships, Duskfall. You seem the most qualified to get what I want. Your mind isn't an easy one to crack, you're not even letting me see your identity."
"What makes you think I'll do what you say?"
"I've got ahold of your boyfriend here, it would be a tragedy if, dare I say, he is hurt.
"If you lay a finger on him I'll rip your lungs out." Derrick lashed out mentally.
"Calm down, tiger."
"Goddamnit what do you want, Astaroth?
"I want you to find Aura Winters. And I want you to bring her to me."