Nobody took it seriously at first.

Harley laughed so hard she nearly fell off her chair. Cheetah muttered something about hell freezing over. Even Grodd paused mid-chess move to blink—just once—before calmly flipping the board.

But Lex Luthor wasn’t joking.

He stood at the front of their chaotic war-room—tie straight, campaign logo already designed, and a disturbingly detailed plan on how to weaponize the electoral college. “We’ve tried fear. We’ve tried force,” he said, tapping a podium he had definitely built for himself. “But now? We try democracy.”

The room collectively groaned.

“He’s serious,” Riddler whispered, horrified. “He made buttons.”

Harley held one up. It said Lex for America… and it glowed in the dark.

This wasn’t a campaign.

This was a crisis.

And the worst part?

He just might win.