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The elder man's voice rose sharply. "From the start, this was your plan. We cleared the obstacles, and now you tell me you don't know? Amanda, this isn't funny!"
"But the truth is, I really don't know." Amanda's expression darkened. "Even why he's unaffected by the nano-bomb—I still haven't figured it out…"
"I don't want excuses. I want solutions!" The elder's tone grew harsher.
"It was you who promised us, Amanda. You said we could groom these criminals into a special unit—one that would take orders from us, deal with problems, and maybe, when the time came, be a weapon against the Bat himself."
"Those were your words. Correct?"
"Yes." Amanda didn't deny it.
"And now?!" the elder thundered.
"I believe everything is still under control," she said flatly. "No matter what ability he suddenly gained, he hasn't changed. As long as he has ties he cares about, we can control him…"
"People are born free. Why do you all keep trying to control others?" The man who had earlier demanded Joker's death let out a sigh.
"First you wanted Joker dead, now you preach about freedom. Gilbert, what exactly do you want?" Amanda shot back coldly.
She wasn't without temper. She'd already been forced to swallow her pride over this mess. But after being pushed again and again, even she had limits.
"Gilbert, this isn't the time for that. Quiet down," the elder snapped, cutting him off.
"I thought this was Waller's little game," 'Gilbert' sneered, "but no—it's you lot. The Court of Owls. No wonder you're so confident."
At those words, half the room stood abruptly. Those closest to him even staggered back several steps in alarm.
"Who are you? What have you done with Gilbert?!" the elder demanded, forcing calm into his voice.
"Relax. Just borrowing his body for a little chat," 'Gilbert' smiled.
"To be honest, I'd intended to deal with Task Force X. But since you were the first to dig into those mall surveillance files, I suppose this is a pleasant surprise."
"You tracked us through that?" Amanda asked, shock flashing across her face—and regret.
She hadn't considered someone might trace things backward from Greenland Mall's surveillance. Had she thought ahead, there were plenty of ways to mask the investigation.
But now it was too late. Their visitor had already found them—and was even possessing Gilbert before their eyes.
The worst part? They still had no idea who he really was.
"You… you're one of Deadshot's allies?" the elder asked suddenly, suspicion sharp in his tone.
He remembered then: in the feed earlier, Deadshot had said—I'm not alone.
It had struck him as odd. Based on the profiles he'd seen of the squad members, none of them had much of a bond. Even if there was contact, friendship wasn't part of it.
So why would Deadshot believe they'd help him? Especially Harley Quinn—everyone knew she would never betray Joker for his sake.
At the time, he hadn't paid much attention to Deadshot's words. He'd only tucked the thought away in the back of his mind.
But now, seeing this mysterious figure suddenly appear—borrowing Gilbert's body—and recalling that yellow flash of light from the Asian man earlier…
He realized at once: when Deadshot had said "I'm not alone," he hadn't meant Task Force X at all.
He had been talking about them—these unknown, unseen, and entirely unaccounted-for superhumans.
"At least someone here has a brain." 'Gilbert' clapped his hands with a mocking smile.
"Who are you people?" the elder asked, voice taut.
"You really think I'd answer such a boring question?" 'Gilbert' shrugged, hands spreading casually.
"If I hide my identity, it's because I want it hidden. Just like you Court of Owls folk. Do you walk into every room and announce who you are?"
The elder fell silent.
The answer was obvious. For centuries, the Court of Owls had ruled Gotham from the shadows. Since the city's founding, they had been its unseen kings.
And yet, so few knew they existed.
The truth was simple: unless one rose to the very top of Gotham's power structure, they weren't even qualified to know the Court's name.
They lingered like ghosts above Gotham, ever present but never seen.
Part of it was mystique, part of it survival. The more visible they became, the more trouble would come knocking. And though they feared no one, even kings preferred not to waste their days on endless nuisances.
So when this interloper used them as an example, the elder had no rebuttal.
But silence on identity didn't mean silence on motive. So he asked again: "What is your purpose?"
"To make Deadshot the next Batman. To ensure everyone from three to eighty years old knows there's a new hero in Gotham."
Before the elder could respond, Amanda shot to her feet, slamming the table, eyes cold and sharp.
"Don't be so absolute. Everything can be negotiated… don't you agree?" 'Gilbert' narrowed his eyes, his tone deceptively light. Thıs content belongs to 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹•𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒•𝙣𝙚𝙩
"After all, how would the world react if they learned you, a high-ranking official of Task Force X, were secretly part of an underground cabal?"
"Would they still believe you acted for national security—or see that it was all for your own selfish ends?"
With a snap of his fingers, 'Gilbert' changed the projection screen.
Gone was the mall footage.
In its place, a hidden recording—Amanda and the elder's earlier exchange.
Specifically, the moment when the elder accused her of creating the squad not for the country, but to one day use against Batman.
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