The house sat on the edge of nothing. A crooked ruin, leaning into the sea, shored up by barnacle-ridden timbers. Sea birds circled the peaked roof, shrieking lonely cries.

Leonard Snart, better known as Captain Cold, lit a cigarette and glared at the house through his cobalt visor. He had been told to come here alone, by a friend of a friend of a friend. A rumor three times removed.

He sat on the hood of the battered pickup truck he’d swiped to make the journey, and pulled up his hood against the chill rolling off the sea.

A limousine pulled up nearby, its engine purring. An old man climbed laboriously out of the back. Bald, liver-spotted and leaning on a cane, General Immortus looked at Cold and grimaced.

“You as well?”

“I’m here, ain’t I?” Cold said.

“It’s been a month. I thought perhaps you might have changed your mind.” Immortus sniffed and tottered towards Cold. “Obviously you did not.”

“We ain’t the only ones here, either,” Cold said, puffing on his cigarette. Immortus looked at him.

“You know this for a fact?”

“Got a sixth sense about these things. Comes from tangling with a guy who moves faster than light. Somebody’s watching us.”

Immortus gestured with his cane. “The house?”

“Maybe.” Cold shifted. “Maybe not.” His hand inched down towards the sub-zero pistol holstered on his hip.

“I wouldn’t,” a voice said. A figure shimmered into existence. The narrow features of the man known only as the Scavenger eyed Cold’s gun greedily. “Though if you were interested in selling it-”

“Not a chance,” Cold said. “I’ve never heard of anyone getting a good deal out of you.”

“Scavenger,” Immortus said. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Why?” the Scavenger said, flinging back the edge of his cloak. “I assume we’re here for the same reasons after all, yes?”

“That remains to be seen.” Immortus frowned. He glanced at the house again. “This house isn’t on any map. Nor does it show up in records.”

“And you’re old enough to know, right?” Cold said, smirking. Immortus glared at him.

“I’m getting strange readings. There’s an energy source in there, one I’ve never come across…” the Scavenger said. “Curious. I thought I’d gotten them all.” He looked at the other men with a narrowed eye. His cybernetic eye whirred. “It’s a trap,” he hissed. “I knew it! You’ve led him here! To me!”

“Led who-” Immortus began. The Scavenger’s hand slapped one of the pistol holsters strapped across his broad chest and came away with a Thanagarian ripgun.

“Traitors!” the Scavenger yowled, firing his weapon!

ANNUAL 2010

'SEVEN SINNERS OF VENGEANCE'

“Brawling already,” Lord Naga, better known as Kobra, said, lowering his binoculars. He handed it to one of his men and sighed. “Fools.”

He and his men stood aboard a sleek yacht. Kobra wore rich robes, and his face was concealed by a serpentine mask. He pursed his lips, considering what he had seen. He had suspected something similar all those weeks ago when super-powered mercenaries had come bearing a message from an unknown individual.

It was either a gathering or an assassination attempt. Or both.

“Take us towards the docks. It wouldn’t do to be late.” He pulled his robes tighter about him as the boat’s engines groaned to life and started forward.

“Lord Naga, something approaches!”

Kobra turned as one of his men, bent over a control panel, began to gesticulate wildly. “Something?”

“It’s beneath the water-and coming fast!”

The boat gave a shriek as something struck it. The vessel slewed sideways, impossibly. Kobra kept his feet, but just barely. Snarling in rage, he bounded towards the rail, just in time to see a smooth, black shape rising from the water. “What-”

Clad in a sleek bodysuit, offset only by the bulky helmet, the Black Manta climbed out of his submersible and stared at Kobra. Then, unconcerned, the nautical villain turned to the docks and hopped into the water. He waded to shore, bypassing the docks and stalking across the sand.

Kobra pounded a fist on the rail. “Arrogance. Sheer arrogance! I am no flea, to be brushed aside!”

Vaulting over the side, Kobra made his own way to shore, fangs bared, eyes blazing. Black Manta awaited him, arms crossed.

“I know you. A mental defective and a bandit,” Kobra said, discarding his sopping robes to reveal a gleaming orange bodysuit. “Why are you here?”

“Invited.” Black Manta stood relaxed, arms dangling. “Same as you.”

“Hah!” Kobra gestured. “What have you to offer our mysterious host? Fresh seafood?”

“We each offer what we can,” a distorted voice said. Kobra glanced over his shoulder. His smirk faded.

“You as well?”

“Us. Yes,” the Brain said, hovering in the air over the two of them. His constant companion, the augmented gorilla known as Mallah, dropped to the sand with a grunt.

“Bon soir, Lord Naga.”

Kobra gave a snort. “A beast, a brain in a can and a bl-”

“Black Manta,” Black Manta said. “Gang’s all here.”

“Yes, but why?” Kobra said. He looked up at the house on the bluff. “An unassuming spot.”

“A blind spot, to be more exact,” the Brain said. “It does not exist, all evidence to the contrary.”

“It’s right there,” Black Manta said, pointing.

“Only it’s not. It’s slightly out of phase with the rest of reality. Ingenious. No one can find it, unless they’re allowed.” The Brain swiveled in his orbit, swinging around them. “The question is…why were we allowed?”

Within the house.

Floyd Lawton, better known as Deadshot, sat with his legs up on the conference table. A cigarette dangled from his lips, and he twirled his mask around one finger.

“That’s all of them. Want me to activate the security measures?”

“Already taken care of.” The voice was not Mockingbird’s androgynous hum, but rather a basso rumble. Deadshot didn’t blink. He’d figured it out early on. While Lawton wasn’t known as a thinker, he’d been around enough to put together the pieces as well as anyone else. “They will work together, or they will die.”

“If it’s the latter?”

“Then we begin again.”

“Sounds good to me. I could use the cash. Got to ask why, though.” Deadshot swung his legs off the table. “You’ve tried this before.”

“Several times.” The voice sounded amused. “It is a good idea.”

“Ain’t practical, though,” Deadshot said. “Just my opinion, mind. Not with these guys.”

“Perhaps not.”

Deadshot waited for a minute. Two. Then, “Guess I should go. Sure you don’t want me to stick around?”

“I will contact you, should I require your services further, Lawton.”

“Yeah.” Deadshot stood and pulled on his mask. He turned and headed for the reverse-engineered JLA transporter tube in the corner. In moments, he was gone, leaving Mockingbird alone.

Long teeth flashed in the darkness of the control room.

“Activate security protocols alpha and beta.”

Outside, on the bluff.

Captain Cold and the Scavenger faced each other, breathing heavily. Immortus stood between them, leaning on his cane.

“Idiots. Fools. Codfish. Infants.”

“Hey,” Cold said.

“You-” the Scavenger began. Immortus swung his cane up, the tip brushing the end of the Scavenger’s nose.

“Quiet. Your paranoia could ruin everything.”

“But-”

“I said quiet!” Immortus croaked. His dark eyes fixed on Cold, pinning him in place. “And you.”

“What about me?”

“Idiot. Provoking him.”

“I didn’t-” Cold protested. Immortus made a sharp gesture.

“Quiet!” he hissed. “We are being watched. Or have you forgotten?”

The two men, weapons still in their hands, looked around. Immortus spat and looked up at the sky. “We are being judged. Even now, our benefactor is weighing us. This is a test.”

“Yeah?” Cold said. He cocked his head. There was a familiar sound on the air. An odd hum, like an insect in his ear. “And you know this how?”

“It is what I would do.”

“Hunh.” Cold looked at the Scavenger and leveled his pistol. “Duck.”

The Scavenger gaped at him for a moment, before throwing himself aside with a squawk. Cold fired, bathing the area in cryonic energy. Immortus whirled, wrenching the head of his cane around and drawing the slim blade from its concealed sheath.

“What?” he said.

A red blur skidded across the ice, flailing slightly before it regained its balance and came to a halt. Cold grinned. “The Flash.”

“I was right! I was right!” the Scavenger yowled, pointing upwards. A blue form hovered over the trio, arms crossed.

“Superman,” Immortus muttered.

Cold raised his pistol again, but something swatted it from his hand. Clutching his wrist, he turned. “Great,” he said.

A dark shape dropped from a tree branch and bounded onto the hood of Immortus’ limo, easily disabling his guards as they piled out in a panic.

“And Batman makes three,” Cold said, stooping to pick up his gun. “Wonderful. Some test.”

“Something is going on,” Black Manta said. He looked at the water and dropped to his haunches, pressing a hand to the sand.

“Eh?” Kobra said, looking down at him, then back up at the bluff. “Up there?”

“Down here.”

“I’m reading three new energy signatures above,” the Brain said. “And something-” He squawked as something green crashed into him, knocking from the air. Mallah gave a grunt of concern and bounded towards him.

Kobra spun and hurled himself to the side as a green fist crashed into the sand. Picking himself up, he looked up. Overhead, Green Lantern swooped over the beach, ring sparking.

“Jordan? But-” Kobra shook his head. Worry about it later. He clutched his staff, taking aim. A thin lasso of gold fell around the head, jerking it from his hands and into Wonder Woman’s grasp.

She tossed it aside with a disdainful gesture and stalked towards him. Kobra fell into a combat stance, fully aware that it would avail him little against the Amazon. She was stronger than he. Faster.

Black Manta, for his part, staggered back as an orange and emerald blur burst through the water and crashed into him, carrying him backwards. Aquaman.

“Hnh. No beard? Two hands?” Black Manta scrambled to his feet as the King of the Seven Seas lunged for him. “What?”

“They aren’t real!” the Brain yelped, laying on his side in the sand. “Artificial energy signatures!”

“Les automaton,” Mallah grunted, bounding towards Wonder Woman and curling his fingers in her hair. He struck her back with his feet and flipped her over, smashing her into the docks. Kobra retrieved his staff and twisted it in his hands.

The gem on the end flowered into light, and a beam of energy crashed across Green Lantern’s energy shield. “A robot Justice League?” Kobra said. “Is this meant to intimidate us?”

Mockingbird watched the battle progress on multiple screens even as he flicked through digital files relating to any number of other potential candidates. Multi-tasking was but the least of his abilities.

A number of villains had been considered and discarded, their abilities or imagination far too limited for what he had planned. Red Panzer, Merlyn, Toyman. Killer Frost, Cheetah, Poison Ivy. More. Dozens. He had been spoiled for choice, really.

A flick of his finger brought up another screen, a fish lens view of the vault. Jason Burr slept in a containment cell, lost in a medically induced coma. The Purple Ray device sat on an bench, being reverse engineered by a number of low yield artificial intelligences based on his own lower cognitive functions.

Lawton, in his own primitive way, was right. He had tried this before, with varying degrees of success. Perhaps it was something atavistic in his makeup, some need to be a part of a community.

Then, perhaps it more self-centered than that. The bright colors and gaudy gimmicks made for excellent distractions. And if anyone knew the value of a good distraction, it was him.

Mockingbird sat back in his chair, watching as his team learned how to work together.

“Robots? You’re sure?” Cold said. He ducked a punch from Superman and sent the android staggering, a thick coating of ice on its chest.

“Of course I’m sure. Tougher than normal, but still robots,” the Scavenger said. He was pawing through his outfit, looking for something. “Interesting energy signatures, but bog standard endoskeletal arrangements. Very cutting edge, but still not top of the line. Where is it?”

“A robot Justice League. Innovative. I knew it was a test,” Immortus said. “Not what I would have chosen, but-” He grunted as a batarang bounced off of his swordcane. “Hnf. Cold, if you please…”

“Busy,” Cold said, hurling himself to the ground as Superman swung at him again.

“Found it!” the Scavenger crowed, pulling out a thin device. “I took it from a runaway police box.”

“A what?” Immortus turned, just as the Scavenger held up the device, just in time for the Flash to grab him and take off. Immortus and Cold whirled as the Scavenger disappeared in a blur of red.

“Damn it!” Cold spun Immortus aside and fired a burst at the Batman android, freezing it in mid-leap. A shadow fell over them and the two villains scrambled aside as Superman came down with earth-shattering force, cracking the ground with his fist.

Immortus crawled backwards. Cold was down, seemingly unconscious. The old man watched the android turn, moving smoothly. He’d fought the real thing before. This machine had the same weaknesses and none of the invulnerability. If only he weren’t so frail-so weak-

His hand closed on the hilt of his swordcane. His eyes narrowed. Ah! The patch of ice Cold had attached to Superman’s chest was not falling off. Which implied it went deeper than the surface. Immortus wobbled to his feet and toppled under a looping blow designed to remove his head. As he fell, he jammed his sword into the ice with all of his strength.

Superman screamed a harsh electronic cry and toppled, a spray of sparks vomiting from his mouth. Immortus crawled away from the writhing android even as an explosion buffeted him. Bits of red and yellow pelted him as he twisted, searching.

The Scavenger staggered out of the treeline, clothing smoking. “That-ah-that worked better than I expected,” he coughed.

“Ah!” Black Manta grunted as Aquaman’s fist nearly drove his head into the ground. “Strong as the original.”

“Indeed, they replicate the base power-sets quite closely-” the Brain said. An energy beam shot out from his chassis, sending Aquaman flying backwards. “But lack the originals’ highly advanced intuition. Very basic AI.”

Mallah bellowed as Green Lantern flattened him against the docks with a giant green hand. Kobra, preparing to fire his staff, stopped as Wonder Woman began to pull herself free of the ruined section of dock where she’d been thrown.

“Have you some gee-gaw or gadget that can disable them?” Kobra said, glancing at the Brain.

“It will take me a few minutes…” the Brain said.

“Good,” Black Manta said, rushing forward, a hooked knife in his hand. He leapt onto Green Lantern’s back and stabbed him viciously. The robot bucked wildly, and the hand pinning Mallah faded.

The gorilla dropped to the sand and bounded instantly towards Aquaman as the latter lunged for the Brain and Kobra.

Kobra, for his part, tossed a glance towards the ocean. He had a small army on his yacht. More than enough to have come to his aid by now. So where were they?

The boat was a smoking ruin, sinking into the sea. Obviously their mysterious benefactor didn’t want them leaving. Or getting help. Sand crunched behind him.

“Hss,” Kobra snarled, spinning as Wonder Woman brought both fists down towards his head. He caught them on his staff and shoved her back. Straight into a beam emanating from the Brain. The android jerked and struggled for a moment before toppling, smoke rippling from its pores.

“Ha. That worked,” the Brain said.

“This worked too,” Black Manta said, stepping away from the gutted Green Lantern robot, his knife dangling from his hand.

“Brute force served me well, oui?” Mallah grunted, tossing Aquaman’s head onto the sand. “We have triumphed.”

“No. Merely passed the test. As I hoped you would.”

The four on the beach turned as a holographic image blurred into view above them.

“You killed my servants,” Kobra spat, gesturing towards the ruined vessel.

“Rest assured, Lord Naga, that they are safe. They attempted to come to your aid, so I teleported them elsewhere.”

“Where?”

“Alaska. I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Mockingbird swept out a hand. “If you’ll allow me-”

With a crackle of hidden engines, the quartet disappeared.

Seven figures appeared in the barren conference room. Only a table marred the emptiness. Seven chairs surrounded it.

“Hunh. How about that,” Captain Cold said, looking around. Immortus’ eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Mallah and the Brain.

“You two?”

“General. Circumstances appear to have thrown us together yet again,” the Brain said. “How delightful.”

Mallah snickered as Immortus’ hand clenched on the handle of his cane. The Scavenger looked at them all with suspicion.

“I don’t know you. Any of you!”

“Know you. Stole my equipment when I was in prison,” Black Manta said, starting forward.

“Mockingbird! You have us here. Reveal yourself!” Kobra bellowed, sweeping his arms out and ignoring the others.

The dimly lit room was suddenly full of light. Ensconced within the control center in the far corner of the room, Mockingbird spun his chair and stood.

“Well? Here I am,” Gorilla Grodd said, teeth bared in fierce grin. “And here you are, just as I hoped.”

“Grodd,” Cold said. “Crap.”

“Hello, Len. You look well,” Grodd said conversationally as he ambled around the control panel and stumped towards the group. “You all know me, of course.”

“Super-Gorilla Grodd,” Kobra said, crossing his arms. “You engineered all of this?”

“Who else? Did you think it was Lex Luthor, perhaps?” Grodd chuckled, a hideous, rasping sound. “No. I took on the guise of Mockingbird to gather together all of the elements I required. I am in need of a few good men, gentlemen.”

“We’ve done this dance before, Grodd,” Cold said, palm resting on the butt of his pistol. “It never works out well.”

“This time is different, I assure you.” Grodd raised a wide paw. “I have had much time to cogitate on matters, and-”

“I want what you offered me!” the Scavenger said. “I want access to it all! Protection!”

“I’m getting to that, I assure you,” Grodd said, swinging around to look at him. “Now, if it please you…be silent.”

The Scavenger screamed and clawed at his head. He dropped to his knees, shuddering. Cold shivered instinctively. Alone among the others, he recognized the tell-tale metallic taste of Grodd’s mind-control powers on his tongue. Two minutes in a room with Grodd, and there was a good chance you WERE Grodd. Grodd clapped his hands together.

“Now. If I could get you all to take your seats, so that we can discuss things in a civilized fashion.”

“Civilized? Threats and coercion, more like,” Kobra said, taking his seat.

“And what could be more civilized than that, Lord Naga?” Grodd looked at the others. “Besides, would any other method have gotten you all here?”

“Unlikely,” the Brain said. “The question is: why us?”

Grodd smiled. “A good question. Immortus?”

The old man blinked. “Hnf. Resources, obviously. We are not, with few exceptions, front-line soldiers.” He looked at Cold meaningfully. Cold snorted. Grodd put a hand out, stifling him.

“Indeed. Each of you possesses resources. Men. Technology. Organizations. And by and large, you have built them yourselves.” Grodd chuckled. “And lost them, yourselves.”

“Irrelevant,” the Brain said. “What was lost can be rebuilt.”

“Yes. But think how much quicker it would be if you helped one another. Pooling your resources would yield quick returns.” Grodd leaned forward, his knuckles knocking on the table.

“Work alone.” Black Manta reclined in his seat. “Always have.”

“And look where it’s gotten you,” Immortus barked. He looked at Grodd. “A good general knows the benefit of alliances.”

“I ain’t a general,” Cold said, propping his feet up on the table.

“True. You’re more along the lines of a union boss,” Grodd said. “A rabble-rouser, Len. Our more-ah-short sighted brethren respect you. Your professionalism.” He looked at the others, extending his hand. “Kobra has a world-spanning organization of highly motivated-”

“Fanatics,” Black Manta interjected.

“Loyal followers,” Grodd continued. “You, Black Manta, have connections and a network of undersea caches and bases. Immortus has men, munitions and bases as well. The Brain has an immense intelligence, rivaling mine and what our genius cannot provide, the Scavenger can.”

The Scavenger, head still aching, grunted. Grodd made a fist. “Resources, gentlemen. Soldiers win battles, resources win wars.”

“And we are at war?” Immortus said. “Who is our enemy?”

“The world, General. The very world,” Grodd said, rising. “We are seven individuals of power. Of capability. For too long, the masters of our world have kept us from achieving our destinies.”

“Fancy speech,” Black Manta said. “What does it mean?”

“It means, my friends, that the world is ours, if we but reach out and take it,” Grodd said.

In the center of the table, a holographic representation of the Earth appeared. Certain cities were marked with symbols. A lightning bolt over Keystone. A bat over Gotham. Others. Hundreds.

“Together, we can create an organization unlike any other. One with resources stretching across the globe.” Grodd gestured to the hologram. Lights appeared, in long lines stretching this way and that.

“Supply lines,” Immortus grunted.

“None of this helps bring the Kali Yuga closer, ape,” Kobra said. “Supply lines and caches. Foolishness.”

“Not so. You seek to cause chaos, yes? Destruction?” the Brain said. “Expanded resources will enable expanded destruction. Simple.”

“You seem awfully eager for this,” Cold said.

“I-we-need protection.” The Brain rotated, looking at each of them in turn. “We all do, to some extent. Protection from the law. From former associates. From rivals. It is why all groups form.”

“Yeah, Grodd’s big on groups,” Cold said. “Must be that ape-thing he’s got going.” He leaned forward. “So why now? Why us?”

“The time is ripe. Change is in the air,” Grodd said. He crossed his arms. “There are vague rumblings in the aether, of strange times coming. I wish to survive them. More, I wish to prosper from them. And you are going to help me.” Grodd’s teeth flashed. “As far as why you?” He laughed. “Well, why not?”

He looked around, meeting the eyes of each man. “Besides which, some of you have no choice. I can only hope that the others see similar sense.”

Grodd waited. One minute. Two. No one got up.

Grodd swiped his paw through the hologram of Earth, causing it to waver. “Very well. I hereby call this first meeting of the Society of Seven to order. First on our agenda, is…”

TO BE CONTINUED?

NEXT ISSUE: So what’s first on the agenda? Who knows? Not me, because I’m done. I set it up, but it’s for some other enterprising writer to show what the Society of Seven is going to get up to next!