Once inside the building, Arias led the way toward the elevator with his usual quiet deanor. Cheshire and Tala followed without a word.
There was no chatter. No idle attempts at conversation.
Tala, usually eager to speak when near Arias, stayed silent. She still felt she hadn’t truly left an impression on him—not the one she wanted. Not like Cheshire, who walked with the casual confidence of soone already occupying space.
The elevator arrived with a muted ding. Arias entered first, pressing the button for the 40th floor. The doors slid shut behind them with a soft hiss.
The ride was brief. Just long enough to feel drawn out in the silence.
Then ca the chi, and the doors opened.
The entire 40th floor was barebones in layout—having four rooms only which stretched one whole area of the floor each, all labeled "Conference Room" with respective numbers etched elegantly into the frosted darkened glass of each entrance.
Directly ahead of them was Conference Room 1. Its blackened glass walls were tinted with a subtle reflective coat—dark enough to obscure visibility, but clear enough that vague silhouettes inside might still be perceived in motion.
Arias stepped forward without hesitation.
As he approached the door, it slid open on its own with a soft chanical whirr. He was just about to enter when he turned his head slightly to the side and said plainly,
"You two wait here."
The tone wasn’t harsh, but it held no room for negotiation.
Then he stepped through, and the doors sealed behind him.
Tala exhaled softly, visibly disappointed. She remained in place for a mont, eyes on the now-closed doors.
Cheshire, unfazed, simply moved to the side of the entrance and leaned her back against the wall. Her posture casual, but her eyes alert.
Tala hesitated, then followed suit—crossing her arms, though the expression on her face made no secret of her irritation. She wanted to be by his side, not left outside.
Inside the room, Arias was greeted by cold elegance.
The conference room stretched wide but kept a minimalist aesthetic. The walls and floors were a seamless blend of obsidian-black marble, cut and polished precisely.
Erald green accents traced the edges of the floor and ceiling, glowing faintly beneath the dim lighting. Even the long, monolithic table that dominated the center of the room bore the sa materials, a dark reflective surface frad in green tallic trim.
Behind the head of the table lood the Leviathan corporate logo—etched into the black marble wall in a subtle yet dominating finish. No need for color or light to make it known. Presence alone sufficed.
Arias walked straight to the primary seat at the table and sat down. His posture relaxed. One arm rested on the armrest, the other lifted to check the ti on his wristwatch.
The watch itself was nothing short of architectural—its polished titanium casing housed exposed gears and glowing markers, oscillating subtly as if breathing. The ti read 3:43 AM.
Arias looked up.
"Comnce virtual eting."
A smooth, digitized voice answered imdiately, pulsing in sync with the green light running through the table’s trim and across the walls:
"Comncing virtual eting."
The shift was imdiate.
The tinted glass darkened further, a subtle flicker crossing its surface as it sealed to total blackness—shutting out any and all visibility to the outside.
Simultaneously, the lights within the room dimd to near total darkness, leaving only the erald accents to cast an eerie ambient glow. Even the soft reflections on the table’s surface seed deeper now, almost bottomless.
Then—click.
Two slots opened on the surface of the conference table in front of Arias, projecting sharp beams of light upward. The beams expanded into vertical portrait-style holographic screens—each labeled: Connecting...
Arias didn’t move. He simply leaned into the chair, eyes fixed forward, waiting.
At 3:50, he adjusted his position slightly. His back straightened, just a touch. He tilted his head and rested it on his hand, fingers partially curled over his jaw.
The first screen flickered.
Connected.
A burst of static—then Slade appeared.
He sat in an office that practically scread Arican exceptionalism. Frad flags lined the back wall. Military dals sat encased in a glass shelf. The lighting was warm, calculated to give his skin a healthy glow. The furniture was vintage—mahogany desk, old war maps frad as decoration, and a portrait of an eagle mid-flight hanging just off-center.
Slade himself wore a crisp white dress shirt with black suspenders, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. His silver hair was pulled back into its usual tight ponytail, and a thick cigar smoldered between his fingers, faint smoke curling lazily above his head.
He glanced toward the cara, smirking faintly.
"Took you long enough," he said, puffing once on the cigar.
Before Arias could respond, the second screen blinked to life.
Connected.
rcy appeared—leaning against a steel support beam in the Leviathan Tower’s private interior garage.
The space around her was quiet, shadowed but clean. Obsidian floors reflected soft green lights mounted low along the walls. High-end vehicles were parked in ordered rows, each one glinting under occasional overhead lights.
She was dressed in casual slacks and a long coat, arms crossed as she looked at the screen without any real effort to mask her irritation.
"Of course he’s already smoking," she muttered, catching sight of Slade.
Arias allowed himself a small smile.
With both holograms fully stabilized and their subjects visible, Arias decided it was ti to begin.
"Alright," he said coolly. "I’ll make this quick. Due to the recent... unforeseen circumstances, we’ll be making very drastic plays."
Slade imdiately perked up at the phrasing. The corner of his mouth curled upward as he leaned back in his chair, puffing once on his cigar.
"Oh?" he asked, clearly amused. "And what did you have in mind?"
Arias showed a small smile—brief, but enough to catch the flicker of anticipation on both screens.
"I’ll spare you most of the details," Arias replied. "But for you specifically, Slade... you need to be ready to assu office by tomorrow."
Slade’s expression shifted fast—from interest to confusion. His brow rose slightly, the cigar pausing at the edge of his lips.
"Assu office?" he repeated. "As in... President?"
Arias gave a single, affirming nod.
"Yes," he said. "President of Gotham, that is."
The confusion lingered for only a mont before Slade smirked knowingly. His eyes lit up like soone handed him a loaded rifle and pointed toward a crowded room of his ex wives.
"Leave it to ," he said, his voice practically humming with anticipation.
Arias returned a nod of approval. "Good. Do whatever it takes. If you need anything, let know."
Slade was about to respond when rcy, still leaning casually against a steel beam in the Leviathan Tower’s garage, spoke up—her voice one of confusion.
"Wait—what do you an President of Gotham?"
Arias turned his gaze to her screen.
But instead of answering her question, he gave instructions. Calm. Precise.
"As for your role," he said, "I want you to use all the resources we have to find out where these attackers ca from. Even a narrow range will suffice. Also, have an isolated location prepared for holding."
He leaned slightly forward now. "And send over Wonder Woman and Dr. June to the tower."
rcy frowned at his lack of response. The silence in place of explanation troubled her. But she didn’t push it. She never did. Not anymore.
Because she now understood sothing others didn’t.
She was valuable, yes—efficient, reliable, essential even—but she wasn’t in their league. Arias didn’t invite her into these etings for her insight. He did it because she followed instructions without asking why.
Still, a flicker of resentnt crossed her face.
Her fingers twitched slightly at her side. She resisted the urge to raise her middle finger to the screen. Instead, she crossed her arms and muttered, "It’ll be done."
Then, after a short pause, she added, "We’re fairly certain the source is North Arica though. Based on the data scraped from the cri scene—chem trace analysis on their gear, thermal absorption patterns on their suits, and trace amounts of soil—we matched the samples against geological databases."
She exhaled sharply before continuing.
"We also ran a reverse-trace pattern across public and private digital banks—everything from border activity to black-market transit logs. The signatures don’t match anything local. But the decay rates on the trace compounds point to storage in high-humidity zones, and two out of three trace profiles flagged regions near the Eastern Seaboard."
Slade raised a brow, puffing out another stream of smoke. "We have tech like that?"
Arias nodded slowly. "It was one of the many technological marvels Luthor was working on. We just decided to... finish it."
rcy glanced to the side, biting down whatever sarcastic response tried to escape.
Arias sat up straighter, resting both hands lightly on the table.
"That will be all. Contact if anything changes. Otherwise—carry out the instructions. And wait for it to begin."
Neither of them responded imdiately.
Slade gave a slow, thoughtful nod.
rcy remained still.
"End the virtual eting," Arias said.
Beep.
The screens dissolved into light and then into nothing, folding back into the table as the room’s erald glow dimd to its idle hum.
Arias leaned back in his chair once again.
His eyes closed—briefly.
And then...
A familiar voice echoed in his mind.
"What are you planning for, Ari?"
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