The Watchtower had never felt this quiet. No alarms. No threat signals. Just the echo of tension among gods who once believed themselves untouchable.
Superman stood at the center of the conference chamber, his cape draped behind him like a scarlet omen. His arms were crossed, but his jaw remained clenched. Diana leaned against the pillar near the viewing window, eyes narrowed in concern. Martian Manhunter floated behind her, impassive but deep in thought.
Batman sat furthest from the others, hands interlocked in front of his cowl, silent. He was no longer just concerned. He was calculating.
Cyborg projected the latest reports.
"Seven-hundred and twelve confirmed supervillain captures or disappearances in the last six months. Fifty-eight international criminal organizations dismantled. Forty-five high-threat individuals neutralized permanently. Twenty-three surrendered voluntarily to League custody—citing Jacob as the reason."
Shazam blinked. "Did you just say voluntarily? These guys fight gods. What the hell did he do to them?"
Cyborg nodded grimly. "They said... it was safer to be in here. With us."
The room fell silent again.
Green Arrow finally spoke. "This is getting out of hand. He's not just crossing lines anymore—he's tearing them up and rewriting the map. And people love him for it."
Flash zipped in from a monitor duty post, frustration in his voice. "Do you know how many people online are calling him the final solution to crime? They're cheering! I had a kid ask if I knew Jacob personally like he was some celebrity!"
Superman stepped forward.
"He's not a solution," Clark said. "He's a threat. Just because he removes chaos doesn't mean he brings peace. This isn't justice—it's control."
Diana met his gaze. "But are we any better, Clark? We've had the same rogues for years. How many chances did we give them? How many innocents died in the name of our restraint?"
Bruce spoke at last.
"I told you," he said quietly. "He was always three moves ahead. That gala? A distraction. That broadcast? A declaration. That attack on the Batcave... that was war."
The others stared.
Shazam asked, "Wait—what about the Batcave?"
Bruce looked at them grimly. "He infiltrated it. Got through every failsafe. I tried to destroy the data, but he replaced it with a mirror trojan and took everything. He left a note... thanking me."
Superman's eyes glowed faintly red. "He knows everything about us. Doesn't he?"
Batman nodded. "Everything I've ever observed. Every file. Every pattern."
Cyborg's voice cracked the tension. "There's more. Amanda Waller just sent us a private encrypted note. She's... out. Literally."
Images loaded on screen. Amanda Waller, no longer the iron general of ARGUS, now sat in a fortified hospital with advanced prosthetics. She had no left hand, no legs below the knees. Her face looked hollowed by something far beyond defeat.
"She said Jacob spared her to send a message," Cyborg said. "That she gave him everything just to survive."
Diana turned. "So what do we do?"
Everyone looked to Bruce.
He stood up slowly. "We don't chase him."
A beat passed.
"We investigate. We learn. We think like he does—but better."
Clark frowned. "And if he crosses a line we can't come back from?"
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
"Then I stop him."
---
Elsewhere: Jacob's Headquarters, 6 Days Later
A soft hum filled the private war room Jacob built below his nondescript financial empire tower. Slade Wilson stood by the edge, sharpening a blade with calculated focus. Screens flickered all around them—villains on the run, cities calm, and data flowing like rivers of electricity.
Jacob watched the map, expression unreadable.
"Justice League is moving," Slade said without looking up.
"I know," Jacob replied.
"Think they'll try to bring you in?"
"They'll hesitate first," Jacob said. "And that's all I need."
He tapped a small hologram of Earth. A new algorithm began generating future conflict zones. He watched it as a king does a battlefield.
"They still think I'm cleaning up the world for justice," Jacob said.
Slade looked up. "Aren't you?"
Jacob smiled faintly.
"I'm not cleaning the world. I'm preparing it."