The alarms were still ringing faintly in Gotham, Metropolis, and every city in between—but in the Legion of Doom’s lair, there was only the sound of coins clinking and laughter echoing off cold stone walls.

Black Manta counted his share with a sharklike grin, while Gorilla Grodd banged a fist on the table, delighting in the chaos they’d left behind. Sinestro’s yellow ring glowed faintly, a reminder that fear—and greed—had its rewards.

For once, it wasn’t about plans, schemes, or revenge. It was about the payout, the tangible proof that their teamwork—or their chaos—had worked. Bills stacked, gold glittered, and in this moment, the villains weren’t fighting the world—they were enjoying it.

Tonight, the Legion of Doom wasn’t feared—they were triumphant.