The marble floors gleamed like ice beneath their boots. Gold chandeliers glittered overhead, their reflections rippling across the polished walls of the Gotham Grand Hotel. It was the kind of place billionaires came to hide from the chaos of the world—ironic, considering they had just walked in.

Lex led the way through the lobby, tailored suit impeccable, a smirk tugging at his mouth as the receptionist’s voice trembled through a rehearsed greeting. Behind him trailed Harley Quinn in a red gown that sparkled dangerously, Riddler adjusting his cufflinks, and Black Manta carrying a duffel bag that most definitely didn’t contain clothes.

This wasn’t a mission—at least not officially. Lex had called it a “strategic retreat,” a weekend of luxury to “reassess objectives” after a messy few months. Translation: the Legion of Doom was on vacation.

They checked into the penthouse suite—six bedrooms, a private pool, and a view of Gotham that made even the most hardened villain pause. Within minutes, champagne corks were popping, expensive robes were claimed, and Harley was already ordering room service like she owned the place.

Riddler, lounging on a velvet chair, raised his glass toward Lex. “So, what’s the catch, boss? You don’t do relaxation.”

Lex smirked, swirling his drink. “Even geniuses need rest,” he said smoothly. “Besides… what better way to remind the city who really runs it than from the top floor of its most exclusive hotel?”

Outside, Gotham’s skyline glittered. Inside, the Legion of Doom reclined in absurd luxury—criminal royalty enjoying their brief, golden intermission before the chaos began again.

Because even villains deserved a night off.