The Legion of Doom knew almost everything about one another.
Criminal records.
Former aliases.
Military service.
Arrest reports.
Psychological evaluations.
Lex insisted on complete dossiers for every member of the organization.
There were very few surprises left.
Or so they thought.
It started because the Riddler was bored.
A dangerous condition.
He’d spent the afternoon digging through decades-old magazine archives, chasing an entirely unrelated lead, when a familiar face caught his attention.
He stopped scrolling.
“…That can’t be right.”
Captain Cold glanced over from across the conference table.
“What?”
The Riddler silently rotated the monitor.
The room leaned in.
Silence.
Complete, absolute silence.
There, on the glossy cover of an old issue of Playboy…
Was one of the Legion’s own.
Younger.
Smiling confidently at the camera.
Entirely unmistakable.
Captain Cold blinked twice.
“…No.”
Grodd stepped closer.
“It is.”
Sinestro folded his arms.
“…Well.”
The Joker snatched the magazine scan off the screen before anyone could stop him.
He stared at it for several long seconds.
Then looked toward the hallway.
Then back at the cover.
A slow grin spread across his face.
“Oh, this…”
He barely managed to contain a laugh.
“…This is magnificent.”
Within minutes, nearly everyone in headquarters had somehow found a reason to wander into the conference room.
Not because anyone particularly cared about an old magazine.
Because no one had expected one of the Legion’s deadliest operatives to have once been a nationally recognized model.
Captain Cold scratched his head.
“So…”
He looked at the cover again.
“…She went from posing for photographers to robbing government facilities.”
The Riddler nodded thoughtfully.
“That is certainly… a career path.”
Even Black Adam looked mildly surprised.
Which, for Black Adam, was the equivalent of complete shock.
The conference room doors slid open.
Their teammate walked in.
Immediately…
Every conversation stopped.
Every head turned.
The magazine remained sitting in the middle of the table like a piece of incriminating evidence.
She looked from the room…
To the cover…
Then back again.
Understanding dawned instantly.
No one said a word.
Finally, Lex entered behind her.
His gaze swept across the unusually crowded conference room before landing on the decades-old magazine.
He looked at it.
Looked at his teammate.
Then calmly picked it up and closed it.
“…Unless this issue contains classified information…”
He set it back on the table.
“…I suggest we return to discussing the satellite weapon currently pointed at the eastern seaboard.”
Another long silence.
Captain Cold slowly raised a hand.
“…Can we discuss both?”
For the first time that afternoon…
Even Lex had to suppress the faintest hint of a smile.