The Gala was over.
The last of the guests had departed, the laughter and applause still echoing faintly in the golden halls of the Jacob Corporation's new Gotham tower. But Jacob did not retreat into the shadows as he once might have. He stood before the vast glass windows of his private floor, the Gotham skyline burning like steel under a setting sun. The reflection staring back at him was no longer the boy Selina Kyle once mentored in Alleytown. No longer the promising thief under Riddler's sharp eyes. No longer a mere tactician rising in the criminal underworld. He was now the Question—but even that title only scratched the surface.
His fingers brushed over the envelope that had arrived at his desk without a trace of its courier—a letter pressed on thick, ivory paper, sealed with the imprint of an owl's face.
The Court of Owls.
Jacob let out a low laugh.
"The Light. The League of Shadows. Now the Owls?" he muttered to himself. "Gotham truly has no shortage of cabals clamoring for control."
He respected the symbolism. The Court didn't threaten. They invited. The wording was careful, even reverent:
"Mr. Jacob—
We have long watched your ascent from the edges of the city to its very heart. You, more than most, understand what it means to stand above the city while holding its pulse in your palm.
Join us. Let us speak.
— The Court"
It was a move Jacob had anticipated. And planned for.
---
The very next day, while Jacob poured over surveillance intercepts and supply chain expansions stretching from Gotham to Caracas, another gathering was taking place—one of cosmic scale.
In a secure, sound-sealed chamber orbiting Earth—the Watchtower—key members of the Justice League sat around a long crystalline table. Superman. Wonder Woman. Batman. Shazam. Martian Manhunter. Cyborg. Green Lantern. Green Arrow. Aquaman.
The subject: Jacob.
Green Arrow crossed his arms. "He's moving assets into cities faster than we can even respond. He's built redundancies, shadow firms, even local political leverage. It's not just Gotham anymore."
Shazam leaned forward. "But is he dangerous? I mean… more than a billionaire with a lot of brains and good PR?"
Batman's voice was like steel. "He's more than that. I've seen minds like his before. Luthor. Riddler. Ra's. But Jacob? He's calculated in a way I haven't seen in a long time. He's anticipating League response protocols."
Cyborg brought up a hologram of Jacob's recent tech acquisitions—companies in defense, surveillance, quantum AI, and infrastructure. "If he connects all of these... he could challenge our data dominance globally."
Superman stood up. "Then let's ask him."
Batman turned his head slowly. "Don't."
But Superman's eyes were clear. "If he's as smart as you say, then directness is our best chance. He knows we're watching. So let me ask him. If he's hiding something, I'll know."
Batman stared at him for a long moment, then reached into his utility belt and handed over a black disk.
"Attach this to your chest before you speak to him. It's a quantum-split lens camera. Immune to tampering, interference, or cloaking. I want to see what you see."
---
Later that evening—Gotham, Midtown.
Jacob exited his armored car in front of a new urban development site, surrounded by security and blinking drones.
He barely had time to nod at his head of operations before a blur of blue and red landed near the plaza. Civilians gasped and backed away.
Superman.
The air shifted. Jacob adjusted his tie.
"Mr. Jacob," Superman called out publicly, with calm charisma. "Mind if we speak?"
Jacob didn't flinch. "Of course. The office upstairs has better coffee."
---
Inside Jacob's penthouse-level office, the atmosphere changed. The blinds closed on their own. Soundproofed glass sealed the room. Jacob poured two cups of coffee.
"Black, I assume?"
Superman took the cup but didn't drink. "Why are you building an empire of secrecy?"
Jacob smiled. "Because I understand the world doesn't move on truth. It moves on perception, power, and preparation. You already know who I am, Kal-El. And I already know you didn't come here just to talk."
Superman's eyes narrowed. "You've been invited by the Court of Owls. You've been meeting representatives of the Light. The League of Shadows has gone silent since your supposed 'training period.'"
"And?" Jacob's voice was smooth. "You're worried I might be planning something."
"We're not worried," Superman said. "We're watching."
Jacob leaned back. "Then let me give you a clue. You're watching the storm's eye and assuming it's the source. But you're not prepared for how much larger the storm has become."
Superman stood. "Are you threatening the League?"
"No," Jacob said. "I'm telling you the game has changed. I'm not on your chessboard. I'm building my own."
Before Superman could respond, Jacob turned back toward the cityscape, voice low and final.
"Tell Bruce... the past is a shadow we all walk through. But not all of us stay there."
---
Meanwhile, in the shadowed vaults beneath Gotham's forgotten foundations, twelve masks met in silence. The Court of Owls awaited Jacob's answer.
And in a separate, darker corner of the world, Lex Luthor's eyes glimmered as he replayed satellite footage of Jacob's expansion, his fingers steepled in fascination.
Vandal Savage stared at the same footage, saying one word.
"Unnatural."
But Ra's al Ghul, hands behind his back, only murmured: "Unfolding... just as I expected."