Bruce Wayne stood in front of a grave. It was a simple grave, with only a name and the dates of birth, and death, with far too few years between them.

As he knelt, he had to control himself to avoid crushing the bouquet of flowers in his hands. Releasing it in front of the gravestone, he lowered his head and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

Since when had he become so careless? So trusting as to leave matters in the hands of the authorities, not making sure they were followed through? He was from Gotham city, he should have known how corrupt the police and government could be.

He had mellowed out, working with the Justice League, people he both respected and, even rarer, trusted, had made him careless.

It would not happen again.

"Who was she?" Clark asked in a soft voice as he approached from between the trees.

Bruce sighed, he hated being so predictable that his friend could so easily notice what mood he was in. Then again, the Kryptonian missed very few things despite not being a detective himself. "Ace, she was one of Cadmus previous victims."

"You…knew about Cadmus?"

"Not the main laboratory, no," Bruce said and sighed again, but didn't explain further.

Once upon a time, Bruce had faced the Royal Flush Gang and, later, accompanied Ace in her last moments.

That particular division of Cadmus responsible for the gang had been isolated from the main laboratory, in another city and under government supervision. It had been built thanks to a government contract and, while still holding the Cadmus name, had very little to do with the current source of their problems.

More than that, Batman had made sure it wouldn't be active ever again.

Luthor had managed to escape that crime too, quickly shifting the blame onto the government and the supervisor while denying any direct involvement.

In his defense, not all of Luthor's companies were criminal in nature, and it really had been the government's fault that time. Batman had made sure of that. Not that the business tycoon hadn't managed to profit from it anyway by the looks of it, the Genomorphs themselves were proof of that.

“I'm calling an emergency meeting of the League."

"Another one?" Clark lifted an eyebrow and handed him a coffee cup.

"We need immediate changes," Bruce took a sip of the coffee and continued to look at the grave. "We also need to vote on the League's expansion, fast."

"What are you thinking?"

"We need to include normal people, delegate some duties and follow up on our work."

"You… delegating?" Clark snorted and shook his head in disbelief.

"The League has grown too big and too busy. I've started missing things Clark. I can't afford to miss things."

"Well, I can't say I don't agree. Lately, I've been acting as Superman too much, I miss just being myself," the man said and sipped on his own coffee. "How was she?"

"You were right," Bruce told him as he touched the tombstone one last time and turned away from the grave. "Her wounds weren't just from the accident."

And hadn’t he made a mistake there too? The entire Cadmus situation had left him disoriented and confused and he had fallen back on old habits, threatened the girl as if she was one of his criminals in need of a shake down. Even worse, it was a mistake with so much potential to hurt his friend, his best and, perhaps only, friend.

He should have done better.

At the time, he had seen a superpowered Kryptonian far too comfortable with killing her enemies, and far too hasty on her actions, going after the clones and dealing with the Genomorph situation by herself, with no thought for the consequences of her actions.

So, he had threatened her and, only later, connected the dots. He almost immediately regretted it.

"You're sure?"

"She's fidgety, she doesn't realize it, but she flinches at small noises and keeps looking around as if afraid," he told his best friend while they walked back to his car. "She's also incredibly uncomfortable inside Cadmus, actively avoids looking in the direction of the scientists there and empathizes far too much with their experiments."

"It's not just, you know, her having empathy?"

"Not this much, she acts harshly and lets things slip when dealing with the experiments," Bruce said and looked his friend in the eyes. "She also knows more than she's telling us Clark, I won't look into it but… be careful."

"She's family Bruce, the Fortress verified she existed and its medical exams would have discovered if she was just a clone or another kind of trick," Clark sighed and looked up in frustration.

"I know, and I'm happy for you, just don't let it blind you."

“I won’t.”

Clark accompanied him in silence for a while, his own anger barely contained at what his cousin must have gone through. Diana’s new protégée had been clear on her information about the Psions and, given her reactions, Kara must have been in their hands for some time.

“I also acted harshly. Her keeping secrets rubbed me the wrong way after everything that happened,” he confessed as they reached his car and stopped.

“Ugh, this entire thing has left us all out of balance,” Clark said and put a hand on his back for comfort. “You know, she’s bringing the clone to our family dinner this weekend.”

“I didn’t, but I approve,” Bruce told him.

“I knew you would, it’s just so…” Despite being a reporter Clark didn’t have the words to describe what he was feeling.

Bruce didn’t press, letting his friend gather his thoughts. Finally, he pulled a folder from inside the car and handed it over.

"Here, your cousin's documentation, she's Kara Danvers now, adopted by an old couple, she inherited a small tech business in Pennsylvania."

"How'd you even get it so fast?"

"I already had it, it was a contingency in case I ever needed money without using the Wayne name, I have a couple dozen," Bruce told him with a smirk, he liked being ready. "I only had to make small changes to the name and gender to make it work."

"Thanks Bruce." Clark patted his shoulder for support and Bruce nodded, but his smirk fell away soon after, he wasn’t felling very happy right now.

He drove home, his mind working overtime as he thought about everything he had seen, heard and read today.

Reaching his home, he went directly to his office and made sure to read about the League’s activity today, after that, he also checked how Gotham was doing and if his presence was needed in the city.

A broken rib wouldn’t stop him from doing his duty if it was needed.

Lastly, he checked up on Richard. The boy was still out with Kid Flash and would only be back by night. Bruce liked that, he liked that Richard still had a life outside the costume and wasn’t driven by revenge, he liked that he wouldn’t end up like him.

Hopefully, this new team would allow him to make friends, people he could trust at his side and that would keep him from growing bitter with the world.

Then he got to work. First was the new direction for the team. The League knew the teenagers wanted more responsibility, to get away from their mentors and work for themselves. It was also clear they wouldn’t take no for an answer, they were teenagers.

Bruce wanted nothing more than to keep them under his wing for as long as possible, to protect them and teach them so they wouldn’t have to make the same mistakes he did when he had started out, or face the same problems but, sometimes, that was impossible.

The team was supposed to be the League’s “black ops” division, giving the teens something important to do which couldn’t be done better by more experienced heroes, for the simple reason that the more experienced heroes couldn’t do it.

It was important work, which the League really couldn’t do if they wanted to keep their UN charter.

They’d be working on League information and their missions would be carefully chosen, so they wouldn’t have to face anyone too dangerous, in theory. Batman knew how things could escalate suddenly when things went wrong.

The truth was, nobody would be fooled, the team didn’t have the necessary training to remain undetected and their powers were very distinctive.

Even if they succeeded in a mission without immediate detection, it would still be pretty obvious who was responsible, the team would leave evidence behind but, so what? They weren’t League members.

Of course everyone would know who sent them there, not only would it extend the League’s reach without causing public or legal backlash but, hopefully, it would also stop villains from just flaunting their activity and daring the League to do anything.

It was against the spirit of their charter but, in truth, only Captain Atom would care, maybe, if he was forced to deal with it.

The League worked under the charter because it made things easier, made their arrests stick, kept their villains behind bars for longer and gave them access to more information and resources, not because they would be forced to stop saving people without it.

Now, Bruce was starting to change his mind about it.

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With proof that there were entire teams of villains monitoring League activity, and some had even managed to infiltrate the League, it became too dangerous for the teens to work in the shadows.

Plus, with Kara working to make her own team, it may also be unnecessary.

No, instead of a black ops unit, he’ll truly make them a team, something even better than the League.

The League, for all its ability and cooperation, was still a collection of individuals, they worked well together, yes, but they were still individuals. In a fight, the League was only as good as its members, the sidekicks could be so much more.

When he finished typing his proposal, Richard had already arrived, he took a small break from work to have dinner with him and went right back to the computer, time to deal with the League’s new outlook.

The Watchtower would still have to be kept isolated and restricted only to full members, for obvious security reasons, but the Hall of Justice would have to stop being just a tourist attraction.

They’d have to hire clerks, detectives, office workers, medics, military advisers. It would take months of background checks to make sure no mole was inserted in the new chain of command, but it would be worth it.

Not only would it make the League’s work much faster, it would also introduce the necessary human element to their work.

Clark may manage to keep his country boy outlook on life, but Bruce knew their colleagues could grow distant from the everyday people and that wasn’t a good thing.

He worked throughout the night, typing away at his computer almost constantly, using his experience as owner of WayneCorp to create the barebones of the new League.

He knew he couldn’t let things continue as they were.

He also prepared his own presentation to the League, it would be harsh, a crash course on everything they had left undone. Bruce was sure it would hit the League almost as hard as it had hit him. A punch to the gut that left him reeling, made him re-evaluate his own actions and find them wanting. It wasn’t pleasant, it wasn’t easy, but it was needed.

It would also force them to be better.

A gasp of surprise made him look up from his desk to see Alfred entering the office. “Master Bruce, what are you doing still working at this hour?”

Bruce looked through his windows to see the sun already rising through the curtains, he squinted his eyes and turned back to Alfred as his old friend handed him a light breakfast and his pain medication.

“I am capable of waking up early Alfred,” Bruce tried to lie, but he knew it wasn’t going to work on his old friend.

“Master Bruce, only a vampire is more averse to the sunrise than you,” said Alfred with a frown while standing beside him, looking him over with a judgemental gaze. “Go to sleep, Master Bruce, or do I have to drug your drink again?”

“Fine Alfred, I can finish this later.”

Alfred still kept checking up on him as he took a shower and only stopped when he was properly in bed, refusing to hear any of his protests and promising to take Richard to school in his place.

His mind was still working like mad when he laid his head against the pillow but, despite that, he felt his eyes growing heavy almost immediately. His last thought was that: he wasn’t entirely sure Alfred hadn’t drugged his breakfast after all.

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In a nearly empty room, Lex Luthor stood in front of the images of his fellow conspirator. Their true faces were hidden, but he knew them well, he wouldn't get involved with them without first knowing who he was dealing with.

Vandal Savage, a man he could respect, to a certain extent, the nominal leader of their little cabal, the immortal thought he was in complete control and Lex allowed him to continue such misunderstanding.

Klarion, some kind of manifestation of chaos, a childish and distasteful ally, but also a magical powerhouse nearly without equal and necessary if they wanted to remain beyond discovery.

Ocean-Master, an arrogant man that the rest of them barely tolerated, his contest of Aquaman's control over the oceans all that guaranteed his place amongst them, his lack of intellect only surpassed by the next member.

Queen Bee. In truth, Lex could barely tolerate the woman's stupidity, but her complete control over her country was useful and any other puppet they put in her place would probably suffer from the same failings.

No, he could accept the woman's ego when he knew she was the one taking the greatest risks, and the one they'd all throw to the wolves in case anything went wrong.

Ra’s al Ghul, the ancient assassin, another man Lex could almost consider a peer, a pity their goals didn't really align. Lex stood for progress, while the old immortal kept to the past, as if it was somehow better.

Finally, The Brain, an impressive scientists, if a little too happy to take shortcuts on his studies, Lex would happily employ the man of given the chance. He was also the only one Lex wouldn't eventually have to deal with.

Truth be told, Lex highly disliked their little group, Savage was an arrogant and condensing leader who thought he could fool him with some fake rhetoric with no substance.

Ra’s, clinging far too much to the past for his liking, they both believed in humanity, but Ra’s thinking was far too primitive, too focused on nature and too little on what humanity could achieve.

The others weren’t even worth mentioning, to stupid or too chaotic for his comfort.

Eventually, he knew he'd have to get rid of them all but, until then, he could use the group to finally eliminate the damn alien.

Superman really was so terribly annoying.

For a second, Lex considered just eliminating his companions now, if some of their true goals were successful they could grow into a real treat, he knew he could do it, even Klarion wasn't beyond his reach.

But no, that would be such waste when they could still be of use. And he did dislike the alien slightly more than he disliked pretending to respect Queen Bee.

"So, the League discovered the clone, did they find out anything else?" Vandal asked.

"No, the safeties against them worked well enough until I could get the authorities involved," Lex told him dismissively, the legality of the League’s actions was a tool he was an expert at using.

"Good, did Wotan escape after the fight?" Was the immortal next question, the sorcerer's escape wasn’t necessary, but it would be good to be able to use him again.

"The old mummy is very cunning. He managed to slip out in the confusion," Klarion answered while petting his damn cat. "Plus, I lent him a hand."

"The planned assassinations were all successful without the League to interference," Ra’s revealed and all of them turned to their last goal for this particular action.

"Did the deal with our partner go well?"

"Their technology is still being calibrated, but Simon informs me we should have steady trade in a few months," Queen Bee said with a wave of her hand, her imperious voice almost making Lex wince.

Another thing Lex didn't like, deals with technologically superior estates never went well for the natives, and he had no doubt he was being handed the equivalent to shiny trinkets from their "partner", but he did need the information such trade allowed him to gather.

"Gentleman, our plans are going well and I have managed to contain any information leaks from Cadmus," Lex told them. "I'll send our employees the latest data on blockbuster's effect from Desmond desperate act but, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

They nodded to him and he stepped away from the monitors, the smile leaving his face.

All monitors turned off and, not even a minute later, Mercy walked into the room with the information about the assault on Fawcett city.

The others didn't really care about the city, or the villains responsible, but Lex had been alarmed to find the League had made two arrests and allowed another three to escape.

That was five supervillains working together, would their little Injustice League trick still work when someone else had done it first? Would the Bat be able to come up with countermeasures until then?

Sitting down, he started reading the report about the location of the final fight, reports of two new flying heroes, one of them capable of using sonic attacks, putting out flames and getting thrown through buildings, how… interesting.

Relaxing against his chair, Lex tapped his finger against two particular pictures, one of a dead Evil Eye, it's body exploded from a sudden discharge of heat, the second was of a single, thin, scorched line in piece of rubble, a very familiar scorched line.

"Hmm… is there another one of those damn creatures on the planet?"

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Far away from there, in a completely different plane of existence, a blonde being in the shape of a man sat on a throne of skulls, he wore tight, white clothes and a green cape that billowed out from behind him in a dramatic fashion to fall over his shoulders and down towards his legs.

He looked exactly like a typical supervillain, with sharp eyebrows and eyes that shone with green flame. Green flames also sprouted to life around him as he scratched at his chin in thought, he did not like the way things were going.

Originally, he was supposed to have plenty of time, his target would remain unprepared, his potential untapped, but something has changed. His target was learning much faster than he expected, growing in unexpected ways.

The being was still confident he could succeed, and time would make his eventual success better, but there was always a risk his prize would no longer be worth it if he took too long.

Innocence was such fragile thing after all, so easily lost.

With deliberate consideration, the being willed into existence five candles, five unlit candles.

Looking up the man started searching for just the right people to ignite them up.

Behind him, Satannus and Blaze traded glances, a barely contained eagerness on their faces.

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In a hidden base on the surface of Venus, Doctor Thaddeus Sivana watched over his old companion, the worm was grievously wounded, part of its body was missing from where its voice box had exploded, and there were burns all over its skin.

The single ally Mr. Mind had been able to escape with had also died. Once disabled, the spirits that powered Ibac had fled his body, leaving only Stanley behind and his body was only human.

The heat had burned his flesh and Sivana hadn't cared enough to save him, paying far more attention to Mr. Mind himself.

"I should have killed the boy," Mr. Mind confessed from his regenerating pod. "I wanted to find a way to drain the other aspects of his power, but I should have just killed him."

"My old friend, I confess that, now that I know Captain Marvel is just a kid, I am no longer as interested in him as I used to be," Sivana told the worm while playing with the storage of magical power they had recovered. "Not that I have anything against hurting children, mind you, but I just don't find him a worthy challenge anymore."

"Thaddeus, I'll have my revenge, I'll destroy both him and that cursed Kryptonian," the worm coughed into the minuscule microphone amplifying its voice. "Right after I destroy everything they have ever loved!"

"I suppose I still need something to test my inventions against," Sivana said and finally managed to settle the box containing part of the stolen power of Zeus inside one of his machines. "And I have never studied a Kryptonian before, would their flesh still be as resistant even when separated from the rest of the body?"

Unable to help himself, Mr. Mind's telekinesis rattled the little pod he was in with his anger. “Another one who will feel my wrath!”

"Still, we will need to gather the rest of the Society if we want to enter the game, my friend," Sivana said as he put on his goggles and started studying the magic. "Vandal is very protective of his little planet and, failure that he is, he does posses impressive allies."

Bent over the information on his computer, Sivana couldn't help but appreciate all the data on the device, despite his failure, Mr. Mind hadn't left the place empty handed.

Magic really was an interesting source of power, so versatile and yet so potent. He’d have to better study its effects and rules.

“Very well, old friend, perhaps I have been away from Earth for too long,” he told the worm and approached the healing chamber and smiled down at the worm. “I have already sent out a call for our allies, Both the Justice League and The Light are just so filled with interesting specimen, I can’t wait to get my hands on them heh, heh, heh.”

Stepping away from the recovering work, Sivana turned towards the square box suspended inside another of his experiments, there were thousands of cables connecting to the device and part of its edges had been greatly damaged, but it still worked.

Pulling out a controller, he started pressing buttons causing the captured father box to spark, release a loud whine and, with a loud explosion, a boom tube formed in front of him.

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Far away from Earth, in a small corner of the Vega system, one of the myriad of Psion searching vessels finally retrieved the small beacon lodged into the side of an asteroid.

Quickly, the man-sized cylindrical device was grabbed by the vessel and brought aboard the larger Psion ship waiting close to the remains of their research station.

As fast as they could manage without damaging the thing, a team of the lizards started working on retrieving the information inside.

Months ago, this particular ship had received the distress signal from the research vessel, but it had been too far away and arrived far too late to render any aid.

It had scoured that particular part of space to gather all the destroyed pieces of the station, but the loss of data had been complete, someone had made sure all their computers were destroyed beyond any ability they had to repair it.

Still, the Psions hadn’t completely given up, it was normal procedure to release several dormant devices containing copies of important information in case a Psion vessel was in danger of being destroyed or taken over.

If there was one thing Psion’s hated above all else, it was the destruction of valuable information.

With how big the research station had been, there was no way any such device could store all information inside, but it could have valuable data and contain clues about what happened to the vessel.

Finding such devices in the emptiness of space was almost impossible, at least until they started broadcasting their signals, years later. It was actually an integral part of their survival strategy to prevent the attackers from finding them, but this particular one had gotten stuck on a nearby asteroid, such things weren’t uncommon since the station had probably released thousand such data caches in every direction.

With a beep, the beacon received the correct password and started dumping its information all over their computers. It was exactly what they were searching for.