#9: The Inner Circle Pt. 1: "Big Leagues"

Santa Prisca was beautiful in the morning sun. Lex Luthor was stood inside the château he'd taken up residence inside, and whilst it wasn't Metropolis, he could get used to this kind of surreal tranquillity. He looked down at the rest of the city, and then frowned. It was a pit. A thriving pit, but a pit none the less. The harbour was busy, ships coming and going, and he could see Bane's police force patrol the streets even from here. The bars were just now closing, and the dregs of last night's drinkers were wandering home. The villains that had recently been introduced to the island hadn't caused much trouble at all-- a few rowdier peoples, but nothing Catman and his team couldn't sort out. Things were working well. The island protective net would go up in an hour or so. And then, with that in place, Bane and Luthor would go about recruiting men and women of power-- not political power, not per se, but people of the purest, most brutal form of power, the power to change the course of history. He had a list in his mind of people that would work. People that would bring greatness to the Society. Yes, things were falling in place for Lex Luthor, and things were coming together for the Secret Society. He looked over to his work station, and the small metal container that sat there. He walked over, and opened it up, peering down at the contents.

I am Despero. Warrior-King of Kalanor. I was a genius before I even thought to bathe in the power giving inferno of the Flame of Py'tar. I enslaved my world and conquered with the sheer psychic immensity that makes up my consciousness. I would have conquered Thanagar if not for the Justice League's intervention.

I am Despero. Warrior-King of Kalanor. I was a genius before I even thought to bathe in the power giving inferno of the Flame of Py'tar. I enslaved my world and conquered with the sheer psychic immensity that makes up my consciousness. I would have conquered Thanagar if not for the Justice League's intervention. I would have conquered Earth if were not for Lex--

I am Despero. Warrior-King of Kalanor. I was a genius before I even thought to bathe in the power giving inferno of the Flame of Py'tar. I enslaved my world and conquered with the sheer psychic immensity that makes up my consciousness. I would have conquered Thanagar if not for the Justice League's intervention. I would have conquered Earth if were not for Lex Luthor, traitor to the Society, the one who saw through the facade of the Voice--

Lex Luthor lifted a sphere up, and held it tightly in his right hand. It throbbed and burned inside the glass with an infernal crimson fury, and he relished that fact. He watched images shift and meld on the inside, and then grinned, placing it back in special storage, and heading to his special meeting planned for that morning. "Goodbye, alien."

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Part One (of Two): "Big Leagues"
Written by House Of Mystery
Cover by Mark Saxton
Edited by Alex Vasquez[/center]



The ports in the back of Bane's head itched. The doctors had drilled recklessly through flesh and bone, driven in metal tunnels for the feed tubes that would plunge Venom into his brain... the itch didn't even fade after he went cold turkey from the drug. He'd made it his business to find the doctors that had done the surgery. He made them suffer as he had. They hadn't used anaesthetic. They couldn't afford it. Maybe they spent all their funding on that drill. Or the chemicals needed to make him a monster. No matter. That was the past. He'd found the doctors. He'd taught them pain. He filled them with the Venom derivative that he'd released onto the streets. The American government wanted the real deal, of course. They wanted the pure drug that had ran through Bane's veins, and still clung to his body like a cancer. He kept the formula for that in his mind, locked up nice and tight. And to prevent the USA coming for him in the night, he made Santa Prisca a kingdom, and him its leader. He was known. And anyone who didn't respect him died. Positioning Luthor's Society here was a countermeasure, another defence against any potential invader, and one that would work perfectly... Santa Prisca was an island, an impregnable fortress in the Caribbean, untouchable by the US government that so very much wanted to get its claws inside of it, and tear it apart for whatever it could gain from it.

"Bane, it's time," said Luthor, standing outside Bane's library.

Bane quietly put down the book he had been reading, and pulled down his mask before turning to Luthor. After that, he walked over to the visitor to his island. "The net is prepared?"

"It is indeed," said Luthor, motioning for Bane to lead the way. Bane nodded, and continued down the hallway, down to the laboratory that Luthor had been using since his arrival here. Luthor had been put at unease at first to work here-- it had taken him a few minutes to realise where Bane's home was established-- inside Peña Duro, the prison he was born. He'd tore up the cells, made everything nice and comfortable, but still... working in a prison hospital? Even with the equipment Luthor had been able to transport from his many empty bases, it was an eerie set up to say the least. But a minute after noticing this, Luthor was over it, and back to work.

"The principle is simple. We're bending light using these hard-light projectors, based on the principle of watching the Japanese Doctor Light, to create a shield to prevent anyone dropping in unexpected, or sending out any rogue transmissions. We'll be locked away from the electronic world, only hearing what we want to hear, and only saying what we want the world to hear us say. You'll have complete control, of course."

"Of course," said Bane. "Interesting work. This won't prevent physical incursion though, but that can be dealt with just as easily."

"Exactly," said Luthor. "Now that this is done, the next point on the agenda needs completing."

"Your recruitment drive," said Bane. "Warp is able to assist?"

Luthor nodded. "Yes he is... I'll be away for the day. Don't touch anything."

Bane smiled beneath his mask. "I wouldn't dream to."



"I really shouldn't gotten so used to Amanda Waller's generosity," sniffed Doctor Malthus as he searched his work top for the piece of technology he needed. "A damn clean lab, all the technology I needed to further the ever loving cause of the American government. Hff."

"So bitter," said Lex Luthor, as he handed Malthus the transponder he was searching for. "Hello, Doctor."

"L-Lex Luthor?!" Malthus nearly fell over backwards at the appearance of this man, who had emerged from nowhere. "What... how... what are you doing here?"

Luthor smiled, and began to look over the devices that Malthus had littered all around the workshop. "Recruiting you into the Society."

"What? Why? I mean, I'm..." Malthus cleared his throat, and straightened up, trying his best to not seem at all intimidated by Lex Luthor's presence. "I'm not a team player."

"Oh, you call Taskforce X a team?" Luthor laughed, and shook his head. "No, this isn't a team. This is a society. A collective. I want you to join us, Malthus. Your mind is sharp but your abilities dulled by servitude. Join us, and you'll have a lab so far beyond this meagre little room. You're capable of so much better, aren't you?"

"Of course, but circumstances... well, you know," sighed Malthus. "Where do I sign up."

"You take my hand," Luthor said, a glint in his eye. "And you walk with me to greatness."



The Question had been over the information again after his meeting with Senator Callahan. The Society had wanted access to star-charts. Weird enough-- he'd have thought that The Voice would be able to contact someone from space to serve in his Society. But looking over the photos of the Society's base of operations, now abandoned, in Hub City, questions had begun to arise, begging for answers... answers that only he could uncover.

He was currently stood in the executive waiting area, pacing the floor and making connections in the case, and every now and then making notes in the pad he kept in his pocket. "Why would they need star maps?" Sat beside him, quite serenely, was a man in a black suit and tie, an attaché case next to his foot. The Question suddenly stopped his pacing, and shook his head. "I appreciate you doing this favour for me," The Question said slowly, turning to his well dressed guest. The two of them were in the Rock the high-tech metahuman prison, and awaiting confirmation that they could see one of the inmates. "I wouldn't normally, but you have the skill set I require to get this done."

"You're Justice League," said his guest, "it's nothing."

"Still..." The Question replied, his words drifting away.

"My dear sirs, the prisoner is ready for you," said a guard, dressed to kill in the latest in meta-suppressant armour, pulling on a glove that he had previously removed for whatever reason. "Follow me." The Question, flanked by his well dressed friend, was lead down a darkened corridor, until they reached a cell in the deepest recesses of the Rock. The guard swiped a key card into a console, and the door beside it wheezed open. The Question stepped inside, followed by his friend, and the guard cleared his throat. "You know the rules. Don't touch the psychic inhibitors. He'll steal your brain right out of your head. Yada-yada, don't touch, you know, you know..."

"Sure," said The Question.

The guard nodded, and then closed the door after them, before finishing his instructions through the speaker. "Down the corridor and through the white door. Be seeing you."

The Question went down the corridor, and then turned to his guest. "Weird guy."

"You're not wrong."

They opened the door, and looked inside. Mindeater was sat inside, a crown of mental inhibitors placed upon his head, and riveted into his skull. He looked up at them with empty, sullen eyes, a bead of saliva dribbling down his bottom lip. "Whurrrr yuuuh?"

"I have questions," replied the faceless vigilante, "and you have answers."

Mindeater began to laugh. "Wuhhhh... wuhhh... whuhhhhouldn't tell you anythinggg..."

"I was afraid you were going to say that. And with the amount of brain work they've had to do to you, I knew that the answers you'd potentially give would be false given your drug-addled haze." The Question looked to his guest. "J'onn?"

J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter, shifted out of his John Jones persona, and into his green Martian form, and, without a moment's hesitation, placed his hand on Mindeater's head. "I'm going to draw the information we need out of your brain now. Prepare."

"Nurrrhhhh!" Mindeater tried to struggle, but his arms were strapped down, and he couldn't rev up the motor function required to do anything else. "Nuh... nuhh..."

"Why did the Society need the star maps?" asked The Question.

"For..." J'onn started, his voice not only his own at that moment in time, "for coordinates..."

The Question leaned forward. "Where for?"

"He wasn't supposed to know," whispered J'onn, "but he caught stray thoughts from The Voice's... lapdog... Thanagar... whoever was working on the Boom Tube projector... he was uploading coordinates to Thanagar."

"Thanagar?" The Question nodded slowly. "Who was the lapdog? I need a name."

"Name... his name was Mr... Blink..." said J'onn. He suddenly straightened up, and moved his hand away. "He knows nothing else, Question. Severing connection."

J'onn looked over to The Question, but the vigilante was already next to him, examining Mindeater's body. "Mindeater was an enemy of The Guardian. He murdered an old acquaintance-- a lover-- of his, and as such, one of the reasons Harper took the mission to infiltrate the Society was to bring this sonofabitch to justice."

"I'm aware," nodded the Martian Manhunter.

"So I'm aware that Checkmate might have been a bit rough with him on transfer. Giving him what he deserves." The Question pointed to a hand print of Mindeater's chest, just above his heart, the fingers just visible around his collar. "But that's fresh. And not any kind of smart I've seen before."

"It's like a burn--" said J'onn, "I don't understand. I could see no memory of an attack... physical pain, and the memory of it, can break past the inhibitors quite easily. What happened here?"

The Question turned to where they had just walked through. "That guard was putting his glove back on, maybe--?"

"I couldn't read his mind," said J'onn. "Some humans have a natural resistance to telepathy, but as my consciousness brushed past his, there was nothing, a solid wall of non-thought."

"Come on--!" The two heroes rushed back through the corridor, and to the executive lounge. The door leading out was jammed open, and guards were already there, seeing what had triggered their alarms. Scattered down the hallway leading to the exit, was an empty suit of suppressant armour. "Who the Hell was that?" asked The Question, a dozen thoughts in his head now requiring answers.



Society here was another precaution. The Society was an army, and having it stationed here was a deterrent. He didn't trust Luthor, not yet, but in time, perhaps... was an enemy of The Guardian. He murdered an old acquaintance-- a lover-- of his, and as such, one of the reasons Harper took the mission to infiltrate the Society was to bring this sonofabitch to justice."Talia Al Ghul sat quietly, flanked by two Ubu sitting at the front and the back of the plane, as the private jet soared high above the ocean. She was reading her father's personal diary, recovered after his last attempt to murder Gotham City and the Batman, and making notes of her own. Before takeoff, she'd had her most trusted man check the plane, and she was quite happy with the fact that no one but herself, the pilot, and her most trusted men were present. So when the bathroom door opened, and Lex Luthor walked out, she was quite surprised.

Her first Ubu, the closest to Luthor, went to tackle him, went straight for his neck with intent to break, and Luthor calmly put up his hand, and connected with the imposing behemoth's chest. Talia saw the lattice of circuitry wired from his palm and underneath his sleeve, and wasn't surprised at that moment to see the Ubu drop. The second Ubu went after Luthor, but Talia put up her own hand, and her bodyguard stopped instantly.

"Lex Luthor. You weren't here when we set off. What brings you into my company?"

"You said you would meet with me, Ms Al Ghul," said Luthor, bowing slightly. "Sorry about the mess," he motioned down to the unconscious Ubu, "but I didn't want him to make a mess out of me."

"So witty," replied Talia, her eyes rolling, "so droll."

"Yes, well," Luthor took a seat opposite Talia, and smiled. "I didn't want to waste anymore time doing this dance with you. You said you would meet me, and I chose to do so at my discretion."

"Interesting trick, climbing onto a plane that's in motion. You'll have to teach me it some time."

"I'm surprised you're flying at all," said Luthor.

Talia's eyebrows rose up. "And why's that?"

Luthor smiled. "Before learning of your resurfacing in Gotham City, last I heard you had died in a plane crash. I'm not surprised the immortal Demon's Head has survived yet another diabolical death trap-- I can call you the Demon's Head, can I not? You are in charge of the League of Assassins now, are you not?"

"The Demon's Head is my father, my dearest Lex, do not play games. If anything, I am the 'Vanguard of the Demon', but as we are old acquaintances, you may call me Talia."

"Thank you, Talia. And like I said, I wanted to bring our dance to an abrupt stop-- my offer of membership to the Society: What say you?"

"You already know my answer, Lex. I accept. The Al Ghul name was synonymous with power before my father's downward spiral into madness and obsession over The Detective. I would see it return to the lofty heights it had once achieved. And if that means the League of Assassins makes a pact with your Secret Society? I dare say can live with that."

"Then a toast--" Luthor looked around almost comically, before his gaze settled upon the second Ubu. "My dear man, a drink?"

The Ubu grunted, but Talia patted him on the hand, and he turned away to prepare a drink. "Why do you insist on riling up the help?"

"Why not?" replied Luthor, leaning back into his seat. "It's been a while since I flew in such luxury. Hmm. I have a few ideas brewing on how to regain my good name, of course, but I'm having so much fun right now playing the rogue, moving beneath the radar of proper society. Options, options..."

"I'm pleased for you, but be careful, Lex. You know how alluring the life of a villain can be. The longer you do so, the harder it will be to slip your skin once more and return to the life of a businessman."

The Ubu handed Talia a glass of champagne, and then Luthor the same. "I think I'll run the risk. To the future, Talia."

Talia's glass clinked against Lex's, and she smiled. "The future."



"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," said Lex Luthor, as he entered the château. Young women lay in various states of undress across the floors, some of them off their heads on drugs, some here for the sheer wanting of it. Luthor stepped carefully over their prone bodies, until he reached the elegant bed, where General Immortus was sat up, reading the Bible. "Didn't you used to live in a castle, General? I seem to remember tales of your prowess..."

"Numerous castles... Lex Luthor, isn't it?" replied Immortus, folding the corner of the page he was at, and placing it on the bedside table. "I haven't been in the world for some time now, but I remember reading about you before I tried my prowess at love-making, and not war. Would you know that I am adept at anything I put my mind to?"

General Immortus was old. Older than physically possible. His skin was like the thinnest plastic pulled tightly over a wire frame of bone, but even though he looked his age, he was still strong-- a look in his steely blue eyes said that much. He placed his monocle over his left eye and then smiled. "You're looking old, Lex."

"You left civilisation ten years ago, General. Is this all you've been doing? The greatest strategic mind of any generation, and you've just been..."

"...Mastering the art of love-making? I did that within three weeks, m'boy. No, I've been reading. And thinking. I'm sure you can relate to the feeling of constructing a most diabolical thought, can you not?"

"I can indeed, General. I've come to a make a request of you sir. I would want to use your mind, sir. I would like you to join a Society I have taken the reins of, and I would like you to take a position of authority within it."

General Immortus arched a thin eyebrow, and then grinned. "Will there be women, Luthor?"

"If you can seduce them, General, then of course."

"Seduction? I mastered that within a day of my sojourn," Immortus clapped his hands, and the women moaned. As he spoke, he moved over their bodies just as Luthor had, over to a closet on the furthest wall of the room. "Ladies, I'm leaving. I hope you don't mind."

"But General," they purred, stirring from their sleep, "you can't leave us."

"I'm afraid I have to," said Immortus, pulling on the uniform that was hanging inside the closet. He pulled it on, and then took out his pistol. "This is an antique, m'boy. I make sure to keep my guns in the best condition." He levelled the pistol at Luthor's head, and the bald-headed scientist put up his hands slowly. "This best not be a trap boy. Your life-time is but a speck to me and mine, you understand? I've survived countless wars; heck boy, I've started enough."

"No trick, no trap, General," Luthor said slowly. "I came here alone as a sign of respect. And because I'm offering you a challenge you've not faced before. The challenge of so many lifetimes."

"Yes, yes," nodded Immortus, tilting his head from side to side, taking in Luthor, "interesting." Immortus brought his gun up, and smiled. "Let's take our leave of this place."

Texas; the middle of nowhere:

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Luthor was sat in a small diner, a cup of black coffee in front of him and a half-eaten piece of pie waiting for him to finish. He'd been sat here for an hour now, and the woman behind the counter kept looking at him, as if she knew him-- and rightly so too. He was Lex Luthor, he was one of the greatest minds of his time. So why shouldn't she? But her doubt ran as true as her belief in his identity, and so she simply went about her business, every now and then peaking at the stranger in her diner. Lex glanced at his watch as the minute hand hit twelve-- it was noon, and Hazard Sharpe was due...

"...Hello, Lex," another woman scooted up in the seat opposite him, and smiled seductively. "You're looking very enticing today, aren't you?"

"Hello, Hazard." Lex Luthor tipped his sunglasses down his nose and then folded up his newspaper. "I'm pleased you got my invitation. Wasn't sure you were going to make it."

Hazard nodded, and then looked over to the waitress. She pointed to Lex's coffee and then gave her a thumbs up. That done, she turned her attention back to Lex. "You do choose the most ridiculous of places to meet up, don't you? It was sheer luck alone I was able to get here on time."

Lex smiled. "Yes, Hazard, 'luck'."

"So, what's your proposal for me?"

Luthor watched as the waitress placed a mug in front of Hazard and filled it up. He nodded when the waitress motioned to fill his, and then, when she had walked away, he placed his hands on the table, and looked Hazard squarely in the eye. "I want you for the Society. Your skill-set would come in handy for our operations, and I've had my eye on you for some time."

"You're going to make me blush," laughed Hazard. "But that can't be it, can it? You've been 'watching' me? Way to make a girl feel stalked, Lex. Come on. Try harder."

Luthor sipped his coffee and then looked Hazard straight in the eye. "Terra Man slaughtered your father. He took his time, too, learning everything there was to learn about him and his operations. He tortured him beyond all understanding just because he wanted an in, and when he was done with that stolen identity, he discarded it like an old winter coat. The Gambler, your father, slaughtered for no other reason than Terra Man's own identity wouldn't suffice for the things he wanted to do in Las Vegas. Your father, who so very much wanted to be like his father, the Gambler of the 1940s, whose career as a master villain was cut short because of, you know what? For no reason in particular."

Hazard Sharpe said nothing, her bottom lip quivering as Luthor quietly settled down and cleared his throat. "I... how do you know all that?"

"I make it my business to know. I collect data that I can use, and I stumbled onto those facts by accident, but once I started digging, I needed to know more, and I knew that you should know that. We'll help you get him, if you join us, Hazard. Be the Gambler-- our Gambler. Join the Society. Have your revenge."

"You've got an impeccable sales pitch, Lex," said Hazard after a moment. "I'm in."



"How are your new guests enjoying their accommodation?" Luthor was pouring over maps and old documents, whilst Bane stood behind him, waiting patiently.

"General Immortus wants something bigger. We can accommodate him with one of the old magistrate villas nearby. In fact, I would prefer it if no one lived here but myself, so I've had their belongings moved to areas close enough to walk."

"You do so enjoy the solitary lifestyle, don't you?" said Luthor.

Bane smiled. "It works for me."

Luthor didn't look up from his research, but was well aware that Bane had not yet left his chambers. "Is there something else?"

"Why them?" Bane said, finally. "Why here, why them, and why now?"

Luthor leaned back, and pushed his hands against his hips. He stretched, and then turned to face his comrade. "I've run this organisation before. The Voice-- Despero-- wasn't the first, he resuscitated an inert entity. The villains of that group were the perceived cream of the crop, but their egos... they clashed so erratically that I don't believe we could have achieved much of anything if we kept the hierarchy the same. So why not try a group with the same ambition, the same skill set, but less well known? Lady Shiva doesn't have to push, she doesn't have to try, she knows she's the best, so why rock the boat? She'll do what she does and she'll do it well. But put a group of people with untapped, unknown potential at the head of the ship, and amazing things will happen." He grinned. "Talia commands resources beyond the Society-- the League of Assassins is an immense group, with connections across the globe. Political power-- the ability to shift trends in society, Bane, they're a boon to be held close. Malthus may not look at all threatening but his technology, combined with our resources, will enable this island to be wholly self sufficient, no longer reliant on the black market to get it through the day. The Gambler's ability to twist the hands of fate in our favour is a gift that we cannot take lightly. I would favour our chances of succeeding more so than usual with her playing a role in the group. Immortus is an age old military genius, with the mind to coordinate a vast society like our own. With his mind behind operations, I don't we could ever go wrong. Yourself, Bane, you're a genius in your own right, able to think your way out of any prison, and hold people to order with the smallest glance-- a skill that I believe to be one of the greatest any being can hold. And whilst we look to the past with Immortus, why not look to the past, the present, and the future with the next recruit I seek-- I'm going to go pay the immortal Vandal Savage a visit, and see if I can return here with my head on my shoulders."

"Vandal Savage?" said Bane, slowly. "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure? Would you want to anger one of the most ruthless, most powerful men on the planet?"

"You make a valid argument," said Bane. "And these maps--?"

"Talia furnished me with them. They're a list of Vandal's possible 'safe-houses'. He's a very difficult man to track down, regardless."

"Good luck with that, then," said Bane, as he then proceeded to leave the room. "You sound like you'll need it."



"I'm surprised," murmured Lex Luthor through chattering teeth, as he took a dreary step toward the large ice palace that the maps had pointed him too, "that he would choose a place such as this to live."

"He didn't," said a voice, and Lex turned to see a woman wearing ornate black and silver armour that did nothing to cover her arms or midriff take steps toward him. "I assume Talia gave you this location?"

"Hmm, you immortals, all so friendly," laughed Lex, pulling his coat around him tightly, "aren't you cold?"

Scandal Savage grinned as she pulled her mask away from her mouth. "Us Savage's are made of sterner stuff than you mere mortals, Mr Luthor. My father isn't here. Is there something I can for you?"

"I wasn't here for your father," said Lex, straightening up. "I was here for you. I was hoping that you would do me the courtesy of joining the Society that I have established, one of like minded individuals."

"Oh? How intriguing." Scandal headed toward the ice palace, and beckoned Lex to follow. They walked in silence for a few minutes before arriving in the main entrance, and Lex removed his coat and looked around. "But why me? Why not my father?"

"Your father is a busy man. He doesn't care about things like this, I don't think. I believe that if he joined the Society, it would ruin whatever plans he has in place from a few centuries ago. I'm fascinated by the man," nodded Luthor. "He's a survivor. The last of his kind, as it were. You have to respect survivors like that."

"So why me?"

"Why not, Scandal Savage? Your father would be kept abreast of the Society's movements and we would move out the way if he asked. We're very accommodating. And we all share the same interests in the end, I think."

Scandal grinned mischievously. "Ha, and what of my old friend Talia? Is the Vanguard of the Demon part of your cabal?"

"Yes, indeed she is. She spoke quite highly of you-- I have to admit, your existence is a rumour at best, those who you have crossed don't normally come out of it alive. But from hearing what she said, I knew that you had to be part of the Society. Why not offer the ultimate survivor a place in the new world order?"

Scandal's belt began to vibrate, and she took a small phone-like device out. She nodded as a voice spoke in her ear, and then replaced the device. "I accept. We accept."

"Was that--?" started Lex, before stopping himself. He knew better than to press where things didn't concern him. "I'm pleased to hear it."

Santa Prisca:

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"The inner circle is complete," Luthor said to himself. "A job well done."

"You really think, Lex?"

"What?!" Luthor span around to see Superman trudge toward him. "How--?" Lex's hand shot to his belt buckle, and he pulled a slither of Kryptonite from the lead lined compartment hidden there, pointing it at the Man of Steel. "I don't care how you got in here, alien, you won't leave--!"

"You're right," Superman said, swatting the Kryptonite away from Luthor's hand and grabbing him by the collar. "You think you're untouchable. But I've been watching you. We've all been watching you and your movements. You're recruiting, and it stops here."

Luthor struggled against Superman's grip. "You can't stop me, I always get out--"

"And I know why you keep coming back for more, even if you don't," snarled Superman, throwing Luthor across the lab and sending him sliding into the far wall. His eyes burned red as Luthor struggled to his feet, grabbing a random weapon that was resting on the side of the worktop. It buzzed yellow, and fired a colossal blast of energy at Superman, but the burst simply slid off his chest, and dissipated. Superman once against grabbed Luthor, and shoved him high up, pointing a finger at Lex's head. "It's because you're jealous of the size of my--"

"I think that's enough, don't you?" came another voice, laughing this time. Superman faded away, and Luthor dropped to the floor, leaving Luthor confused as to what had just happened. "Hello, Lex. The name's Harlequin, and I've got a proposition for you."

"Harlequin?" Luthor brushed himself off, and looked around. "What are you doing here?"

"Firstly, your protection net? Not as great as you've advertised it to be, but hey, when is it? I have an answer actually, 'it's great when I work on it', but you weren't asking. I waltzed in here and I wanted you to know that so many others could if they knew you were here." She strolled toward Luthor, and smiled. "You may be a genius, Luthor... the perceived best of the best and all that, but you're not going to be greatest at what you do unless you enjoy it. Mastering the art of science is all well and good, but you need to care. That's where I come in."

Luthor's face shifted from confused to amused within a second. "What's your proposition?"

Harlequin shrugged, and then began to trail her finger across Luthor's workstations. "You need me. You're old school villainy, and that's awesome, that's all well and good, but you need to think to the future. I'll help reinforce your protection net. That one's on me, my treat. You want the future of villainy? That's me, baby. I'm yours if you'll have me, and I won't even charge my normal fee. Give me a seat at your table. Hear me roar."

Luthor looked her straight in the eye, this beautiful young woman, dressed to kill in a black jacket and striped black and white trousers, a pair of goggles covering her eyes and connected to her gloves. Her white make-up didn't shift as she smiled, her ruby red lips twisting up like a cat that killed the canary. "You're a very interesting young woman."

"That and more," replied Harlequin, "that and more."

"Alright, you're on," said Luthor, putting out his hand, before withdrawing it slowly, "you've not got a joy-buzzer there, have you?"

"What do you take me for, some sort of joker?" She took his hand lightly with a mischievous smile on her ruby-red lips, and moved it back down to where it was first offered, then took it sharply. "But I might introduce it to my repertoire. Very cool."



"Thank you for coming." Lex was stood at the head of a long table, and looked across the room to the assembled men and women. Bane was dressed in a suit and tie, though his mask still clung tight to his face. Lex could have sworn that he could see his eyes boring through him, beneath the scarlet lenses that obscured them, but it must have been a trick of the light. General Immortus was beside him, in full military regalia, his monocle perched in front of his eye. Talia Al Ghul wore crimson, and was sat beside Scandal Savage, who had removed her armour and was now wearing suit and tails. They talked in hushed whispers, remembering events that they had shared in their childhood. Across the table, Harlequin's attention shifted from time to time to Scandal, almost as if she was sizing the woman up, and Luthor noted this for future reference. The Gambler, her feet up on the table and reclining back in her chair, was playing with her lucky die, and Luthor smiled at this. The sheer nonchalance she exhibited a complete mask. Doctor Malthus was nervous for some reason or another, perhaps due to the fact that he was surrounded by some of the most dangerous men and women in the world. But at the same time, despite that thin veil of sweat punctuating his forlorn brow, he was excited to be here too. "I hope you'll take the time to get to know each other, as you're going to be spending a lot of time together from this point on. We're going to mould the future into whatever we deem necessary. The Society is the future, after all."

Talia and Scandal both smiled at this.

"But firstly, I wanted to say something. In recruiting you, I thought about the best attributes to make this a well-oiled, effective machine. Despero did not have the best interests in mind for humanity, and I believe that we do. We know the truth behind the so-called superheroes that run the world. That's a given, but not our exclusive purpose. True, we must reveal that to be the facade that it is. Of course. But there are so many options open to us now. You're a figure-head, the collective mind of the Society. And as such-- I step down." Luthor grinned as the men and women looked to one another. Only Bane and Immortus seemed unperturbed. "I have given you a structure to work within. A kernel of an idea to make whatever you wish from it. I will return in the future, but I have something I must take care of, an important matter that I have avoided for many months now. I trust you will run the Society expertly, because that's why you were chosen."

Lex Luthor stepped away from the table, and vanished into the shadows. Bane looked to the others, and then, when no one said a word, he stood, and looked around the table. "On to the first order of business."



I am Despero. Warrior-King of Kalanor. I was a genius before I even thought to bathe in the power giving inferno of the Flame of Py'tar. I enslaved my world and conquered with the sheer psychic immensity that makes up my consciousness. I would have conquered Thanagar if not for the Justice League's intervention. I would have conquered Earth if were not for Lex Luthor, traitor to the Society, the one who saw through the facade of the Voice. I am trapped. My consciousness caged. I will escape. I will have my revenge--

I am Despero. Warrior-King of Kalanor. I was a genius before I even thought to bathe in the power giving inferno of the Flame of Py'tar. I enslaved my world and conquered with the sheer psychic immensity that makes up my consciousness. I would have conquered Thanagar if not for the Justice League's intervention. I would have conquered Earth if were not for Lex Luthor, traitor to the Society, the one who saw through the facade of the Voice. I am trapped. My consciousness caged. I will escape. I will have my revenge. Soon.