Location - ???
Batman
Even with active crime in Gotham and other areas appearing to decrease—thanks in part to the Justice League's influence and the congregation of smaller villains retreating into the shadows—my work never stopped. Crime didn't vanish; it adapted and became something more insidious, lurking beneath the surface. I had proposed the formation of a covert operations unit, a Black Ops team to handle threats in ways the League couldn't. It had yet to be approved. Too many moral complications, and too much red tape. Even then, the world had a funny way of forcing a hand.
A series of beeps echoed through the dimly lit room, the rhythmic pulse of the monitor tracking brainwaves from the unconscious figure lying in the bed. I kept my gaze fixed on the readings, but I wasn't alone.
"What do you make of the situation?" A familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.
I didn't turn. I already knew who it was.
Superman—Clark Kent—stood near the doorway, his powerful arms folded across his chest, his jaw set like chiseled stone. He had read the report, but he wanted to hear it from me.
"I've gone through the details," he said. "I still believe taking a life should never be necessary when combating villains, but… considering the injuries this boy suffered, considering his state of mind, I may have to acknowledge that it was… unavoidable."
Silently, I disagreed. Killing—no matter the reason—was a line that once crossed, was impossible to undo. There was always a choice. Always another way. And yet… I exhaled, my eyes shifting to the bedridden teenager.
"From what we've managed to gather," I began, "the boy appeared at the docks when an explosion occurred. Robin and Kid Flash were about to engage Cinderblock, and then… well, you've seen the aftermath. Cinderblock was annihilated. Shattered into nothing."
Superman stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "The boy's physiology?"
"His skin is resistant. Traditional needles don't work, but unlike you, his durability has a threshold. A stronger material, or enough force, can penetrate his epidermis. He has multiple lacerations, burns, and severe cranial trauma. Given the state he was found in, it's a miracle he's even alive."
Superman exhaled sharply. "Murder isn't something you can just brush past. Even if… even if it was an accident."
There it was. The emphasis is on the word 'accident.'
I said nothing.
After a long pause, I turned toward the door. "I'll contact the rest of the League. For now, it would be best if you made our guest feel… welcome."
Location - ???
Invincible
Pain. That was the first thing I registered. A dull, throbbing sensation hammering against my skull. My throat felt raw, my mouth dry as if I hadn't had water in days. I sucked in a breath and coughed, the movement sending a jolt of pain through my ribs.
'Where the hell am I?'
My eyes fluttered open, white fluorescent light piercing my vision. A ceiling. Sterile. Medical. Hospital?
I shifted slightly, rolling my shoulders, and something cracked. The momentary release sent an odd shiver down my spine. Then—
"It seems our guest has risen… in better condition than when he arrived."
I tensed.
The voice was unfamiliar, calm yet firm, making me feel like prey actively being observed by its predator.
"Be not afraid. You are currently in one of our secure facilities. You were found in critical condition. We have been monitoring your recovery."
I turned my head, muscles protesting against the movement. The sight before me was… unexpected.
A tall, green-skinned humanoid stood near my bedside, draped in a skin-tight black and blue suit, accented with red straps and a flowing red cape. His posture was relaxed and non-threatening, but something about him made my body tense. Not human. Not mutant. Alien?
My mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened. The fight. The explosion. And then—
I shoved the thought away.
The alien extended a glass of water toward me. "Drink. It will help."
I hesitated before taking it, my throat too dry to resist the offer. The cold liquid slid down my throat, soothing the rawness, and I sighed in relief.
The figure watched me with an unreadable expression. "I see you are at ease. Before we continue, allow me to introduce myself. I am Martian Manhunter, as my peers call me."
I swallowed, my grip tightening around the now-empty glass. My voice was hoarse when I finally spoke.
"I'm Invincible."
Manhunter studied me for a moment before nodding. "You have been through much. Tell me… what do you remember?"
I exhaled sharply, closing my eyes for a brief moment. The memories slammed into me like a freight train. The fight with Angstrom. The portal. The rage. My fist driving into someone—
The way their body crumbled apart, disintegrating into nothingness.
I gritted my teeth.
"I remember…" I started, my voice quieter than I intended.
Manhunter didn't react. "And how do you feel about that?"
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head.
I clenched my fist, my nails digging into my palm.
"Do you expect me to feel sorry?"
"Well, I'm sorry but feeling sorry for myself hasn't gotten me very far so I'll abstain."
There it was. The truth.
Martian Manhunter watched me intently for a while before finally speaking. "I can tell you've figured out that my colleagues and I, who rescued you, are heroes known as the Justice League. We do not take the act of taking a life lightly. There will be questions, and it's important for you to understand this."
I forced myself to meet his gaze. "Yeah. I figured."
"Then be prepared. Your actions will have consequences, Invincible. Whether you intended them or not."
I exhaled, my head tilting back against the pillow. "Story of my life."
Martian Manhunter turned toward the door. "Rest. The others will want to speak with you soon."
As he left, I let out a shaky breath, staring at the ceiling.
Location - Central Hub Of The Hall Of Justice
Third Person
The meeting room was dimly lit, the holographic globe at the center displaying a pulsating blue glow that cast faint shadows against the metallic walls. Batman stood at the head of the circular table, arms crossed over his chest, his ever-present scowl deepening as he surveyed the gathered League members.
Superman leaned forward, his fingers interlocked as he rested his elbows on the table. "So, you want to create a black ops team within the Justice League?" he asked, his voice calm but edged with concern.
"Not within the League," Batman corrected. "Associated with it. A separate unit that handles missions the League can't be seen dealing with directly. Covert operations, espionage, preemptive strikes. Situations where conventional heroism isn't enough."
A tense silence followed his words before Green Arrow scoffed, arms folded. "So, you want a hit squad?"
"No," Batman replied firmly. "A specialized team to operate in the shadows. Stealth, precision, intelligence gathering, and when necessary, force. But only as a last resort."
John Stewart exhaled, shaking his head. "Batman, this sounds like a slippery slope. We stand for justice, not assassinations."
"And what about those threats that don't play fair?" Black Canary interjected. "What about the ones who use our morality against us? Sometimes, stopping something before it happens is the only way to ensure innocent lives aren't lost."
Doctor Fate nodded, his glowing eyes narrowing. "The realm of the unseen and unknown is vast. There are evils that do not play by our rules. Batman is right to consider an alternative solution."
"And what if that alternative corrupts us?" Hawkman slammed a fist on the table. "We start operating in the shadows, and suddenly we become them! We are supposed to be the light in the dark, not the darkness itself."
"I agree with Hawkman," Flash said, arms crossed. "We fight crime and injustice, not wage secret wars."
"We do what's necessary," Aquaman said, his deep voice cutting through the debate. "In Atlantis, we don't get the luxury of black-and-white morality. I support Batman's initiative."
Superman sighed, rubbing his temples. "The problem is oversight. Who makes the calls? Who decides what missions are acceptable and what aren't?"
Batman's eyes sharpened. "I do."
That set off a fresh wave of protests.
"Absolutely not!" Hawkman snapped.
"That's dictatorship, not heroism," Green Lantern (Hal Jordan) argued.
"You mean to tell us you've already gone ahead and picked your team?" Manhunter's voice cut through the commotion.
Batman met his gaze. "I have."
"Without consulting the League?" Wonder Woman's voice held a dangerous edge.
"This isn't up for a vote," Batman said evenly. "This was a necessity. And I made the call."
A silence stretched as members exchanged glances, some outraged, others thoughtful. Aquaman nodded approvingly. "Batman has the right idea. We need a team that isn't restrained by bureaucracy. A team that can get things done."
"There is wisdom in foresight," Doctor Fate agreed. "As much as I believe in the League's purpose, I also know that not all battles are won in the light."
Wonder Woman, arms folded, exhaled. "I don't like it, but I understand why you did it."
Superman's jaw tightened, but he nodded reluctantly. "We'll have to discuss the extent of their operations. But I get why you did it."
"Same here," Black Canary said. "It's not ideal, but neither are the threats we face."
Green Arrow sighed. "Guess that makes me a hypocrite for agreeing."
Before anyone else could speak, Manhunter suddenly turned his head, his eyes glowing faintly. "Enough. Our guest has awoken."
All attention snapped toward him.
"The teenager?" Hal Jordan asked. "The one who took down Cinderblock?"
"Yes. He is currently in the lower levels, medical bay," Manhunter confirmed.
"We need to talk about that," John Stewart said. "That kid killed Cinderblock. Not captured, not disabled—killed."
"We don't even know who he is," Hawkman said. "All we know is he's powerful. And dangerous."
"I've already linked with his mind," Manhunter revealed. "He calls himself Invincible. He is a hero, but he comes from a world where violence is not so easily condemned. And while he said he does not regret his actions, I sensed doubt. Self-loathing."
That silenced the room.
Batman was the first to speak. "Then we monitor him. We figure out what to do with him while keeping a close eye on him."
Superman looked uneasy. "And if he turns out to be a threat?"
Batman's gaze was cold and unwavering. "Then we stop him."
The halls leading to the medical bay were silent, Batman walked ahead, his cape billowing slightly as the other League members followed. Wonder Woman cast a glance at Superman, who had yet to say another word since the meeting. His arms were tense at his sides, his expression unreadable.
"Clark," she finally spoke in a hushed tone. "You're worried about the boy."
Superman exhaled slowly. "...That is true, something feels slightly off and I know I'm not the only one who can tell." His eyes slightly on the Dark Knight who continued to walk ahead in silence.
"A second for your thoughts?" Diana offered.
Before he could answer, the doors to the medical bay slid open, revealing a dimly lit room with sterile white walls. A single figure sat on the edge of the bed, his muscular form covered in a hospital gown, hands covering his face before looking up to meet the visitors.
"So," he said after a moment, his voice hoarse. "I'm guessing you have questions."
Batman stepped forward. "Many. And you're going to answer them."