Lex met Clark's scrutinizing gaze, gave a small nod, and gestured toward the aircraft.
"Whatever needs saying can wait until we're airborne.
Especially you, Clark. We don't know you, and you don't know us.
Once we're aboard, introductions.
Move."
He stepped forward first.
The others exchanged glances, then followed.
In the distance, as Martha was led away by a maid toward her room, she turned back to look at her son.
Her eyes lingered on the strange group, disordered in appearance, yet carrying a presence that felt strangely resolute.
Clark may have been right.
People who looked more dangerous than devils might truly become saviors.
Lex entered the cabin first, Bruce close behind.
Deadshot and Victor followed after Zatanna and Selina.
Clark paused at the hatch, looked up into the night sky, then turned and met Martha's eyes one last time.
He gave her a bright smile.
Then stepped inside.
The hatch sealed shut.
Inside the aircraft, Pierce's voice sounded over the comms.
"Welcome, everyone. Pierce speaking, your pilot for this trip.
Departure in twenty seconds.
Estimated flight time, thirty-two minutes.
Destination, airspace above the White House, Washington.
Make yourselves comfortable.
Dining section is stocked, ramen or steak, your choice.
There's also a shower area if anyone wants to rest.
And the logistics bay is open. Most small and mid-sized LexCorp equipment is available."
"Now that," Deadshot said, clapping, "is beautiful."
He grinned.
"Anyone heading to logistics? I need better gear.
LexCorp toys cost a fortune, and they're worth every dollar.
Never thought I'd get to use this much equipment until my hands got sore."
Victor smirked and slapped his shoulder.
"Forget gear, did you ever think today your daughter might be proud of you?"
Floyd's expression shifted.
His shoulder twitched.
A smile crept into his narrowed eyes.
Nearby, Lex sat in the lounge area and folded his hands.
"We have thirty minutes.
Equipment can wait.
First, we should understand each other's abilities."
He looked around the cabin.
Before he could continue, Selina smacked the side of his helmet.
Clang.
She dropped into the seat beside him, crossing her legs.
"Ignore Lex when he acts like a military briefing.
We're all risking our lives together, no need to sound like a board meeting.
I'm Selina Kyle, thief.
A very good one.
Now tell me who I should hide behind if things go bad."
"Selina."
Lex sounded irritated.
Then he pointed directly at Clark.
"Everyone here knows one another except Clark and, mostly, Zatanna.
I understand what magic can do.
So really, Clark, this is about you.
Introduce yourself.
And your abilities.
You came this far, so I assume you're not here as dead weight."
He lifted his faceplate and watched Clark closely.
Everyone else turned toward him.
Victor grinned and pounded Clark's shoulder.
"Relax and talk.
This world is already too insane for anyone to care how strange someone is.
If you impress me, maybe I make you a boss in Dead Souls.
Run operations around Arkham.
With redevelopment coming, that city might turn valuable.
Not a bad future."
Clark looked around at the expectant faces and nodded.
"I'm Clark Kent.
You all know the basics.
Farm kid from Smallville."
He hesitated.
"As for abilities…"
He actually looked embarrassed.
"You probably shouldn't expect too much.
I'm stronger than normal people.
Faster too.
And sometimes my eyes shoot red beams."
The cabin went silent.
Clark rubbed the back of his neck.
"I can't control it well yet.
And when it happens, my eyes feel like they've been scorched."
Zatanna raised a thumb.
"That sounds a lot like Cyclops."
Clark gave an awkward smile.
"Pretty much, except painful."
He paused.
"That's it, really.
Nothing impressive compared to all of you."
Victor shook his head.
"That's already more than I expected.
Honestly, I assumed you'd be baggage.
Now I'm thinking you might grow into somebody dependable."
He moved off to sit nearby, poured himself a drink, then lifted the bottle.
"Victor Falcone.
Professional assassin.
I know every trick worth learning.
Though Floyd is deadlier."
Deadshot scoffed.
"Don't undersell yourself."
Bruce suddenly raised a hand.
A holographic display lit up inside the cabin.
Washington appeared in real time.
At its center stood a colossal metallic spire, silver-blue and monstrous.
Energy crackled at its peak.
Lightning lashed outward across the city.
Every strike consumed buildings.
Consumed people.
Not destroyed, consumed.
Stone, steel, flesh, everything broken apart and drawn back into the tower.
Bruce pointed at it.
"This structure has been feeding on Washington since the invaders erected it.
I can't properly analyze the energy output yet.
I can't model its full destructive threshold.
So remember this.
Do not let that lightning touch you."
Silence fell.
Bruce's voice hardened.
"We know almost nothing about today's enemy."
A hand rose.
Zatanna.
Like a student volunteering an answer.
"Actually… I might know a little."