The Justice League meeting had settled into its usual rhythm. Clark Kent was leaning forward, elbows on the polished mahogany of the Wayne Manor study table, pointing at a holographic star-chart. Diana, regal as ever in her civilian attire, was offering a counterpoint in that calm, certain tone. Hal Jordan looked bored, spinning a construct of a tiny fighter jet above his fingertip. Barry Allen was a blur of motion, having already fetched a fresh pot of coffee and a plate of Alfred’s cookies.