Alex stepped into Batman's command center. He paused, his gaze—cold, scanning, devoid of awe—methodically sweeping over the assembled figures. Each one a pawn, rook, or potential queen on the chessboard of the apocalypse. In his mind, honed by years of strategy and survival, dossiers unfurled instantly, rumors surfaced, facts analyzed:
1. Superman: His powerful yet graceful frame, clad in the iconic blue suit with a red cape, faced a holographic map. His face, usually radiating kindness and confidence, now bore a faint shadow of worry. The golden boy. A walking benchmark of physical might. A symbol of hope for the masses. And Darkseid's primary target. Break him, and you shatter resistance's spirit. Power to move planets… paired with a naive belief in "the best in people." His weakness wasn't just kryptonite—it was his moral code in the face of total war.
2. Wonder Woman: Beside Superman, her warrior's stance—straight spine, grounded poise—exuded certainty. Her Themysciran armor, a blend of ancient gold and modern polymers, gleamed under the lights. Her gaze was sharp, analytical, scanning the map like a battlefield. Truth forged in steel and beauty. Her Lasso of Truth—a priceless tool for extracting information, if she gets the chance to use it. Her bracelets—shields capable of deflecting nearly anything. But would her millennia-old warrior spirit hold against a sky swarming with armored killers?
3. The Flash: Fidgeting restlessly by the table, his red suit a bright splash in the grim setting. His fingers drummed the tabletop with a barely perceptible vibration. The living embodiment of speed. Their only shot at instant relocations, pinpoint evacuations, resource delivery, or critical strikes. His brain operated at the same hyperspeed— invaluable for real-time analysis and tactics.
4. Green Lantern: His emerald energy suit pulsed softly. A familiar half-smirk played on his lips, but his eyes held focus. The ring on his finger glowed steadily. Willpower materialized in green light. A living constructor, capable of crafting barriers, bridges, siege weapons, or entire fortresses from thought. Access to the Green Lantern Corps' cosmic database—a massive asset for intel. But his power was fickle, tied to belief… and belief was fragile against absolute, all-consuming evil.
5. Aquaman: His massive frame in gold-green scaled armor stood out, even next to Superman. Poseidon's Trident rested nearby, radiating ancient power. His expression was stern, regal. Lord of the Seven Seas. His command over oceans and their creatures was real. But the battlefield was land and sky. Atlantis' armies thrived underwater, but against a cosmic armada?
6. Martian Manhunter: Hovering inches off the floor in a corner, his red-blue suit contrasted with his green skin. His face was unreadable, long-fingered hands clasped. A telepathic phantom. He could be everywhere and nowhere. The perfect spy, scout, or field coordinator via mental links. But his crippling, paralyzing fear of fire—a glaring Achilles' heel. And could his mind withstand the telepathic scream of billions of disciplined, hostile minds from Apokolips' army?
7. Power Girl: Strength rivaling Superman's, but grimmer. A living torpedo. Devastating in direct assaults but predictable. Keep her clear of Omega Beams and psychological attacks.
8. Green Arrow: Seated beside Black Canary, his green khaki suit and hood looked anachronistic. Bow and quiver slung behind him. His gaze—hard, seasoned—scanned the room with a survivor's cold appraisal. Alex's eyes lingered on the bow. Irony stung sharper than any arrow. A man with a bow in an age of lasers, beams, portals, and cosmic legions. Absurdity elevated to heroism. His trick arrows were mosquito bites against Parademon armor. At best, a distraction or a lucky shot at a careless officer. His value lay in tactical cunning and small-scale leadership, nothing more.
9. Black Canary: Beside Green Arrow, clad in black leather, arms crossed. Her iconic vocal cords were hidden by a high collar. Her gaze was sharp, defiant. The screamer. Her "Canary Cry"—a potent, cone-shaped sonic weapon against crowds, weak structures, or for stunning. But against Darkseid's armored, disciplined army? Questionable impact. Useful for defense, little else.
10. The Atom: His high-tech suit gleamed, the Bio-Belt shrinker neatly fitted at his waist. His scientist's face was focused, intrigued. A genius in compact form. His ability to shrink and manipulate mass could be a key to victory. Sabotage inside enemy ships or systems. Micro-level recon—priceless. If he isn't crushed like a bug or incinerated by a stray beam.
11. Doctor Fate: The Helmet of Fate rested on the table before him, its empty eye sockets seeming to watch everyone. Nelson himself looked weary, battling the voice(s) in his head. A walking arsenal of primal magic. A wild card. The Helmet's power—teleportation, shields, destructive spells, foresight—could turn the tide. But its cost was madness or total possession by the ancient demon Nabu. Their trump card against Darkseid's mysticism.
12. Plastic Man: His red-yellow suit and perpetual goofy grin stood out. A flexible jester. Bulletproof and able to take any shape—cute, but limited. Useful for slipping through cracks, recon, or surprising one or two soldiers. Maybe a morale boost with some dumb stunt, if anyone could still laugh.
13. Zatanna Zatara: Her stage tuxedo looked out of place. Her fingers gripped the table's edge, knuckles white. Dark circles under her eyes spoke of sleepless nights and drained magical reserves. Her backward-spell magic—odd, but effective. A key player for shields and illusions. They couldn't afford to let her burn out in the opening minutes.
14. Lex Luthor: His sleek gray suit stood out among the heroes' costumes. His bald head gleamed under the lights. His gaze—cold, analytical—assessed everyone with calculated precision. Two glossy-black LexCorp combat drones stood in the corner. Alex's stare turned icy. A genius sociopath. In another life, he'd be Alex's primary target and a pleasure to eliminate. His tech—battle exosuits, drone armies, orbital weapons, possibly kryptonite—was a massive military asset. His ambition and pathological hatred of Superman were a lethal threat to the room's fragile unity. Killing him would be… therapeutic. But Darkseid was the bigger fish. Use him strictly as intended and keep him under watch.
15. Black Adam: Standing apart, radiating ancient power and disdain. His black-gold suit gleamed, the Shazam bolt on his chest twisted. Magical energy faintly crackled around him. His gaze was cold, haughty, challenging all. An ancient bastard with power rivaling Superman's. Brutal, arrogant, unpredictable. But his might was undeniable. His magical lightning could mow down platoons. If they could channel his uncontrollable rage solely at the enemy… and stay out of his blast zone. A storm caged by a temporary truce.
16. Amanda Waller: Unshakable as stone. Her dark suit was impeccable, her gaze on her tablet sharp and all-seeing. A grim A.R.G.U.S. soldier stood beside her with a briefcase—likely housing implant detonators. Alex's look turned professionally appraising. A one-woman government machine. An iron lady with a heart of ice. Her Suicide Squad—handpicked scum with unique skills and bombs in their necks—was perfect cannon fodder for dirty work, suicidal diversions, or zero-survival missions. Waller held their digital leash. A valuable tool. A dangerous ally. Her access to A.R.G.U.S. resources—bases, weapons, intel—and military connections was key to coordinating "official" defenses.
17. Shazam: His bright red suit with its lightning bolt felt too new, too vibrant in the grim setting. His posture tried to project adult confidence, but a faint tremor in his hands and wide eyes betrayed the scared teen inside the titan's body. A child in a god's frame. His power mirrored Superman's, plus magical lightning. Immense potential in direct combat. But his mind was a child's, facing the End of Days. Reliability? Zero. He could panic, freeze, or worse, cause chaos trying to "save everyone." He needed constant oversight and emotional support.
Beyond the physical titans and shadows, a massive holographic screen dominated one wall. Split into dozens of sections, it showed faces or groups in suits, seated in bunker-like situation rooms worldwide. Representatives of the UN Security Council and military alliances, connected via encrypted channels. Their images were slightly blurry, connections flickering, but their tense faces, hard stares, and the overlapping hum of translators created an oppressive backdrop.
Alex finished his assessment. His mental catalog of strengths and weaknesses was complete. The room sensed the weight of his scrutiny and fell silent. Batman, standing at the table's head like a grim monument, gave him a nod, his white lenses hiding any emotion. Alex stepped forward, his shadow falling across the holographic Earth, studded with alarming red portal markers. His face held neither hope nor fear—only the cold resolve of a surgeon preparing for an operation with minimal odds.