The Flash, Barry Allen, sat beside Diana, his red-and-white suit washed spotless. But a biological repair patch was still stuck to his neck, and the bruising inside his head had not completely faded.
He kept his head lowered, tracing circles on his knee with a finger. Every so often, he looked up to steal a glance at the superheroes around him, then quickly lowered his head again.
Cyborg, Victor Stone, sat at the far end. The metal armor on his half-mechanical body had been reforged and repainted, and the data streams in his electronic prosthetic eye were functioning normally again.
Yet the way he looked at Batman clearly carried an indescribable mixture of awkwardness and apprehension. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he said nothing for a long time.
Behind them, representatives of the various factions occupied the middle and rear rows.
T'Chaka, king of Wakanda, sat upright in the very center of the second row, a leopard-print cloak hanging behind him and dark gold claw blades at his waist. His gaze was calm and cold.
Arthur, Aquaman of Atlantis, and Mera sat to T'Chaka's left.
Arthur's dark blue armor had been polished to a shine, but his back was half an inch more hunched than usual. As his gaze swept over those around him, he deliberately avoided looking in his stepfather's direction.
Although his mother liked that stepfather very much, deep down, he absolutely refused to accept him!
Because whenever that bastard spoke to him, he was always throwing in a "fuck your mother"...
Mera sat beside him, her dark blue bodysuit outlining sleek contours. The golden trident at her waist gleamed coldly, and her green eyes looked straight ahead.
Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons' Themyscira had not attended in person, but she had sent a Dora