Episode 14: Reality is Often Disappointing

Deathstroke follows his new client into his lair, and learns more about his schemes and alliances.

            Deathstroke had followed his master out of the warehouse and into Gotham city. Ra’s took an armored vehicle to his destination, Slade followed from the rooftops. The two arrived at the sewer junction and worked their way down the many winding obstacles to Wonder City. Slade recognized the Gotham base of operations for the League of Shadows, and was pleased to see it hadn’t changed much since last he saw it.

            Deathstroke stayed with his master for two days and two nights, hearing Ra’s Al Ghul make various phone calls, negotiate prices, and discuss plans further ahead. The figures he landed on, as he understood it, were high. Riddler was receiving fifty million dollars, flat. He was to use that to pay for recourses, and whatever was left he could take as payment. That figure was somehow a tremendous act of charity and also the biggest rip off Slade had ever heard of, but Nigma seemed happy. Penguin was being paid in equipment. Once the operation was over, Penguin was getting military equipment to shame a country, including rocket launchers, SWAT grade riot shields, and all sorts of other nonsense, including one anti-aircraft missile launching platform. It seemed like a mistake to arm Penguin so heavily, but from where Ra’s was standing he must not care.

            Croc didn’t have much use for money. He was being paid fifty thousand a kill, and he would have League of Shadows protection for twenty-four months after the project’s completion. He pushed for protection during, but Ra’s stood his ground. He couldn’t risk being caught connected to Jones, no matter what.

            Deadshot’s payment entirely depended on who he killed and when. They haggled for seven straight hours over the price for every single head on the list of ninety different names on Deadshot’s list. Eventually, they both came to figures they were satisfied with, and Deadshot and Ra’s hung up. Ra’s stepped out of his chambers that night and briefed Slade accordingly.

“That’s finally done,” he said. “Unless you have a problem with your fee.”

“Two hundred will still be fine.” Deathstroke replied. He had a plethora of questions pertaining to the things he heard but professional curtesy dictated he not ask them. He instead inquired about their itinerary.

“What are we doing now? Where are we going and who will be there?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Ra’s said, with a smile growing on his calloused face. “Now, I am going to get some rest. I recommend you do the same, as much as you can. Tomorrow, I’m going to let you in on a great secret. I like you, Slade. In another world, I would have chosen you to lead my army if it weren’t for him.”

            Slade nearly gagged at the mention of him. Ra’s brought up this “chosen one” so often it was like he was trying to provoke him. Constantly reminding him of how much better “the chosen one” is, and how Slade has never matched up to him and never will. Every time the name came up he wanted to throttle Ra’s so hard he broke his neck. Someday he would silence the old man permanently when he finally puta bullet through the bat’s face. The old man continued, serving backhanded compliments all the way.

“But since that title belongs to someone else, I am prepared to offer you a different honor. Something lesser, no doubt, but equally grand in scope, and something just as few people know about. Get some rest, Wilson. You’ll need it.”

            Ra’s slinked back into his chambers, leaving Deathstroke standing at the door with his arms crossed, seething with rage at every word the old man said. He shook his head in futility, trying to channel his rage into being a better fighter. He had sworn this oath so many times, yet it never lost a shred of meaning. He swore he would kill the Batman. No matter what it took, he would kill the Batman. By the bullet, by the sword, or by the unforgiving blow of his bare knuckles, the Batman would fall. And he would receive the throne. He found intermittent hours to sleep and rest, choosing not to waste mental energy on whatever this fake surprise was. He slept just enough to catch himself dreaming. He saw a city alight with fire, spread painfully from the unforgiving drop of a carpet bombing. He saw Batman, weeping and bleeding in his arms, staring out across the city he had failed for the last time. He saw the world recognize him for just the same waste of potential that Slade saw him as. Just as Slade was going to deliver the killing blow, a stone fell from the crumbling walls of Wonder City and woke him. The rage from his fantasy still carried him, refusing to allow him to sleep any longer. He stood up and began training, honing his form and keeping his adrenaline up. He wouldn’t be caught off guard. Not again. Not if he was going to win.

9:30am The next day.

            Ra’s came out of his chambers in new attire, one markedly more ceremonial than the last one. He saw Slade violently slashing his blade at empty air, sweating and panting as he demanded improvement. Ra’s watched it for a moment, weighing up the mercenary he had bought. His form was good. He was aggressive. He seemed to think that was enough. It wasn’t. The open air had at least seven opportunities to strike back. Slade hadn’t changed a bit. Something about that Ra’s found comforting, if deeply pathetic. He interrupted his employee and stopped the training exercise.

“Wilson! Eye’s front.”

Slade’s blade came to a halt. He left it hanging where he had slashed it, panting and sweating from exertion. He sheathed his blade after a healthy beat of statuesque position holding, and directed his gaze towards his master.

“Ready to leave?” He asked.

“Absolutely. Are you ready?”

“Ready for general security, but I don’t know where we’re going, how we’re getting there or who to expect. I can’t bring special equipment if I don’t know what I’ll need it for.”

“There is no safety concern here. You’re accompanying me as a guest. Come this way.”

            The two walked down several ancient passageways, covered in rust and mildew. At various intersections League members showed up to provide additional security but Ra’s always dismissed them. They walked in complete silence, their feet not sliding and their breath not heaving. Even Slade demanded silence of himself despite his physical rigor and dehydration. If Ra’s could do it, so could he.

            The two arrived at a large metal door, one that looked clean and well maintained, unlike the entropic decay of all the other architecture in Wonder City. Ra’s commanded Slade to secure the area. He wanted not a living soul to see what was behind this door.

            Deathstroke did as was commanded and reported that the room was satisfactorily devoid of people, and cameras.

“Than behold,” Ra’s began, “my second greatest secret.”

            He placed his hand against the door. It scanned his finger and palm print, and accepted it. The door creaked, dispensing dust about the room, before yawning open and revealing it’s contents. The massive crumbling lent the gargantuan steel gate a circumstance and gravitas that brought ordinary men to their knees, which made it paradoxical that what ended up being behind the door was a room no larger than a walk-in closet, and contained nothing but a round symbol painted on the floor.

            Slade knew that everything here had significance, so he dared not question if this encounter was a joke, but he did stare back at his master to find out what he was supposed to do about any of it. Ra’s did not return his glance, and instead stepped into the room and took a position atop the circle. He stood off-left from the center, and beckoned Slade to step next to him. Deathstroke put aside the silliness of the moment and stood beside his master on the possibly spray painted symbol on the floor. The massive door began to close the two in the closet, and darken their surroundings completely. Ra’s and Deathstroke stood stock still saying nothing as this ancient heavy door slid mournfully shut, plunging the men into absolute darkness. As soon as the dust settled, Slade broke the tension.

“If this is a gas chamber, I’ll kill you old man.”

“Say the oath.”

“What?”

“The oath. You still know it. Say it.”

            Deathstroke took a weary sigh and pondered which of the many mistakes in his life lead him to this moment. He shirked the hilarity and recounted the oath. The League of Shadows kept a short oath, designed to be repeated like a chant, or a mantra. In moments of extreme turmoil you were to recite the oath to give yourself the strength to go on. It came from Slade Wilson’s mouth like muscle memory, and as soon as he spoke it’s final word the painted symbol on the floor began discoursing such a powerful gust of wind it lifted the two off the ground.

            Darkness filled the eyes of Ra’s and Slade. Slade began to resist but he found his limbs paralyzed. Instinct forced a scream out his mouth, but even the muscles in his throat disobeyed his orders. Absolute limbo and isolation prevailed over all sense and reason for an agonizing seven seconds. Deprivation of life had never assailed Slade Wilson so aggressively, and he thought to never experience it again.

            Once sensation returned to his skin and eyes, Slade began to recount his training and get a grip on his surroundings. Even in the dark of this closet he should be able to find something to ground himself. When scanning the environment he found that he was no longer in the dark room with Ra’s, but rather standing behind a makeshift witness stand made of stone.

            He stood in a chamber large enough for a cathedral, with walls and ceiling entirely of stone, suggesting they were underground. A massive stage was before him, with many other witness stand like pedestals surrounding the base. Fluorescents on strings like bulbous Christmas lights illuminated the room, dancing and stringing up, around and across many of the pedestals he stood beside. Each place had a microphone at it, and a space to lay a smart device. A council of some kind was supposed to meet here, but Slade couldn’t tell if he was among it, or being judged by it.

            Other than the pedestals, the only other furniture in the room were a few mahogany dining tables with white table cloths draped over them. Coffee, soda, donuts and other plentiful refreshments ordained the tables, separated by whether or not one wanted a snack or an entire meal. It was hilariously childish to him, but he dared not laugh. The room had no entrance or exit from any direction, not even any windows. The only entry would be whatever strange fate befell them when they stepped on the symbol. The security of this was slightly relieving, but not enough to fully dissuade him. He still needed more information before he was to be truly at ease. He looked further for the location of his master, and he found him standing at his own pedestal, looking at Slade with a grin of mockery on his face.

“Welcome to my secret, Wilson,” he said. “We will meet in just a moment. Please, have some breakfast, get to know your new compatriots. If you need something, call, and a servant will assist you.”

            Slade took in the faces around him. Some he knew, some he did not. Some he had personally met, other’s he only knew from reputation. There was an elf with pink skin and a ridiculously flamboyant haircut. Beside him was a gorilla, with pale fur and paler skin. It stood on two feet and conversed like a human. It’s head was so engorged it made Deathstroke sick. It’s brain was much too big for it’s head, forcing the pulsing veins and surging hemispheres to work visibly atop the animals scalp. The fact that Ra’s associated himself with such wretches felt like an insult.

            Aside from them Deathstroke caught sight of none other than the famous billionaire playboy Alexander Luthor of all people. He looked wretchedly out of place in his business suit and humanoid figure, and his nervous posture implied that he felt just as he looked. He stood idly by drinking water out of a paper cup and surveying the room. Slade decided to approach Luthor and make conversation, knowing if he didn’t Ra’s would scowl.

“Lot of people I know want me to kill you.” He said, half sarcastically.

“Lot of people I know would be happy you did.” Luthor replied. “Christ why can’t I avoid these stupid parties?”

“Is that all this is? A party?”

“People keep throwing around the word ‘initiation’ but I haven’t heard to what or why. I don’t like it.”

“Who dragged you here?” Deathstroke asked, pouring himself a cup of water and removing his facemask.

“Ultra-Humanite. He and I have a history.”

“Who?”

“The gorilla with the brain.”

“That’s a man?! It talks?!”

“It talks, yes. It’s shutting up it can’t seem to do.” Lex laughed at his own joke much harder than Slade did. He came off as incredibly nervous to be here, which Slade naturally wanted to take advantage of.

“You don’t usually run with this kind of crowd, do you Luthor?”

“Is it that obvious? I really don’t know what I’m doing here, but Humanite absolutely insisted I come along. And he may look sophisticated, but don’t get it twisted he’s still a gorilla. He’ll still rip you in half if he wants to.”

“I’ve killed bigger monkeys than him.”

“Not bigger bats though.”

            Slade turned to Luthor and stared a glare of absolute hatred and malice. Pure death beamed straight from his naked eye and landed upon Luthor’s face with a hollow splash, because Luthor didn’t react in the slightest. He stared back at Deathstroke with the same half smile of a man waiting for his joke to land. Luthor treated it like a silly running joke, as if he was mocking Slade’s defeat in “chutes & ladders.” He had not an ounce of respect for Slade or his rivalry with the bat. A man like him had no respect for anything. Slade attempted to silence his arrogant attitude as quickly as possible.

“Remember who you’re talking to, fool. I’m the master assassin who takes down countries.”

“Remember who you are talking to, second place. I’m the man who keeps crooks like you in business.”

            Slade was about to cross blades then and there, when a gavel was furiously pounded onto stone and called the room to order. Ra’s Al Ghul called out “leaders, assemble” and the room rounded up. Each famous name took it’s position at an appropriately marked stone pedestal around the center stage. As the leaders gathered, Ra’s called Luthor, Deathstroke and one other individual to stand in the middle. The men approached, and listened to what Ra’s had to say.

“Gentleman! Welcome! This next meeting of The Light has been officially called to order! Welcome new initiates!”

“’The Light?’” Luthor mocked, raising his cup to his lips again.

“Yes, The Light.” The gorilla responded. “So called, because we are the world’s true dominators, and we are here to show the rest of the globe the truth. Or as the saying goes, show them the light.”

“That’s stupid.” Luthor replied.

“We’re in the process of rebranding.”

“You three individuals have caught our eye,” Ra’s began, “and we believe you are worthy enough to join our fold. What say you to this great honor?”

“What are you?” The third man asked, who’s identity was still a mystery to Lex and Slade. Ra’s cracked a hideous grin, and replied “I’m glad you asked.”

“We are a coalition of the world’s most powerful individuals. We are the shadowy hand moving pieces behind the scenes, influencing every major decision in global history for the past four hundred years. Through our various combined resources, intellect, connections, and vast foresight, we have influenced and shaped the world from as matters as small as bloodshed, and as large as economic collapse. We have come together to achieve the one thing man has always strived for, but so few have ever achieved. Change. We aim to change the world into the shape we want it to take, no matter how long it takes or how difficult it may be. We know how the world ought be run, and with our powers combined we’re going to run it. Whether they want us to or not.”

“That’s it?” Deathstroke asked. “You evil genius’s came together and formed an alliance for no better scheme than to take over the world?”

“What greater scheme is there?” Ra’s asked, his smile not diminished. “Man’s quest since the dawn of time has been to change the world. They invent, create, reproduce, and everything they do has always been from the desire to influence the rest of time in their image. If you think there is a greater prize to be won than placing the entire globe at a hierarchy and yourself at the top, then you have been playing the wrong game.”

            Lex Luthor’s lips curled as he nodded in resignation. It was basic, but true. Everybody wants to rule the world. Whether they choose to do it by being president, billionaires or supermen, they all want to. These men simply had the ambition to see it through. A pause permeated the room for long enough for the point to land on the three men, and Ra’s continued.

“Allow me to introduce the leaders of The Light, as you do not all possess the same connections. I’ll begin with myself. I am the great Ra’s Al Ghul. I am the leader of the League of Assassins and the emperor of Wonder City. I am the oldest member of The Light, having ruled over my kingdom for nearly six hundred years. I am the hand in the shadows, and I command my seat with pride. Beside me is Ultra-Humanite, the worlds most intelligent living mammal.”

“Second.” Luthor muttered.

“To my left is Sinestro, the leader of the yellow lantern corps. He commands an army of warriors equipped the deadliest weapons in the universe. He is an overload to nearly thirteen million slaves, and his tactical mind is a force to be reckoned with. Finally, beside Sinestro, is Teth-Adam ,emperor of Kahndaq. He possesses divine power, and merely a glance could kill you.”

            The three initiates took in the many names presented before them. Deathstroke couldn’t help but feel out of place among them, while Luthor was just starting to feel at home.

“We possess enough soldiers to cripple the United Nations. Enough money spread about our various currencies to purchase the United States seven times over. Our combined intellect is beyond measure, we have connections in every aspect of global politics. We possess the skills to keep our selves and our dynasties in power for the rest of time, and that’s precisely what we intend to do. The Light has had it’s view upon the world for talented eyes for as long as we have existed, and upon you three we have cast our eye of favoritism. Join us, gentleman, and see The Light!”

“If I refuse?” Said the man the other’s didn’t know, his voice calm and mild mannered.

“Should you refuse, you will be removed from the premises, and Teth-Adam will wipe your mind of any memory of this event forevermore. The Light will not scorn you, but we will not spare you from our actions. If our plans include your death, we will have no mercy on you, nor your empires. What do you say gentleman?”

            Luthor began to pace around his place on the stage. He was getting in to this. He fought every day to get himself into the club of dark hands moving the world. Always kissing up to whatever president was in power, running for mayor, bending over backwards to get some real power, and this was his chance at not just having it, but keeping it. He’d get the kind of power President Green only dreamed of, and he wouldn’t have to fake a gushing interview ever again. He could finally be recognized for the genius he truly was. He couldn’t just snap say yes, though. Too many things didn’t add up.

“Why me?” Luthor asked, chucking his cup dismissively behind him.

“You come with a strong recommendation,” Teth-Adam said, speaking for the first time. “Ultra-Humanite says your intellect rivals his.”

“Furthermore,” Sinestro began, “while our currency is vast, much of it is in non American dollars. Having someone enter our fold with USD would be beyond useful.”

“Your history with Superman gives you a calculated edge in the war against the Justice League.” Teth-Adam continued. “We need that kind of usefulness now more than ever.”

“So why not Wayne? Wayne’s a genius, and if it’s USD you’re after he’s got more of that than me. He’s working on tracking the man of steel as we speak.”

            Ra’s answered before anyone else could speak.

“We have an advanced psychological evaluation system to gauge whether or not someone will be receptive to this kind of information. We need to know whether they will cooperate before they see The Light. Bruce Wayne is someone we don’t view as cooperative.”

            Luthor nodded, again liking what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe it. He was being placed as an equal among aliens, emperors, and titans. He knew it, he knew it his whole life. He deserved more. And finally someone was recognizing it. He couldn’t think of a more correct answer than the one he gave.

“I am in. Let’s do this. Let’s take over the world.”

“I hoped you’d say that,” Ra’s said, his smile widening ever further. “Wilson? What say you?”

“Do I look like I have a choice?”

“Wonderful!” Ra’s rejoiced. “I’m am beyond overjoyed to see you make the right decision. This means the only one left to answer is you, Ares.”

“Ares?” Luthor asked. “Ares? Like the god of war, Ares?”

“In the flesh.” The third initiate said, pride glowing from his face. “And I’m in.”

“I’m dreaming, this is a dream.”

“Then I vote to bring Alexander Luthor, Slade Wilson, and Ares into The Light! Who votes with me?!” Ra’s cackled, leading the room with his charisma.

“I.” said Ultra-Humanite.

“I.” Voted Sinestro, beginning to laugh from the excitement of it all.

“I.” Teth-Adam said.

“It is unanimous!” Ra’s screamed. “Alexander Luthor, Slade Wilson, Ares, congratulations! You have seen the light!”

“YES!” Luthor exclaimed.

“What the hell have I done…” Slade muttered.

“Olympus, I return soon.” Ares muttered, vengeance glistening in his eyes.

            This was really happening. Lex Luthor was really being brought into the folds of the most powerful organization in the world. Screw that, the galaxy, the universe! A force like this wouldn’t dare be reckoned with. No matter where they chose to step foot they’d be flocked by throngs of worshipping cowards and bowing leaders! Nobody would even think of questioning his authority ever again, not President Green, not the IRS, not the United Nations, not Superman, nobody! Lex was going to be the man he always knew he was meant to be.

And he couldn’t wait to get started.