Luthor had taken the time to learn about Project Metal Men. If Ivo thought there was promise, then he would look into it, learn everything he could, and then see what it could offer.

It was a project, one that the business mogul hardly recalled himself. It was a project to design a new era of rescuers, ones that could go into the most hazardous of environments, and recover anything and anyone. Mountain victims to avalanches, areas devastated by volcanic activity, nuclear waste affected areas like Chernobyl, the deepest recesses of the ocean, any place that humans struggled to venture into, these Metal Men would be able to go.

Altruism was the driving force here, not something he cared much for. It was only profitable when it came to PR, nothing more. As he read further, he was already considering the military applications. Warzones, enemy-held territory, both frontline stormtroopers and reconnaissance and espionage behind enemy lines. Solders, assassins, and scouts all rolled up into one if you had the vision, and Luthor had that vision in spades.

But what was Ivo seeing in this exactly?

Before heading to the R&D section that was above ground, the one meant for tours and reporters, the business mogul did a quick look at the project's expenses. It started off with a low budget, one small enough to get automatic approval while receiving no attention. Then he noted how the expense began to grow. If you weren't paying attention, you wouldn't notice a spike here and there, a pattern too peculiar to ignore.

Digging deeper, he looked into what exactly was happening with those spikes. Mostly, they were orders for raw materials, nothing too alarming. Some of it was odd, like a large quantity of iron, of lead, tin even. However, mercury brought up some alarm, and what began to tip him over the edge into anger was the under-the-table orders for gold. Last but not least, there was a request for platinum. Platinum.

With Mercy at his side, it was a trip to the fifth floor, one that came with many surprised faces. Of course he would be approached and the only thing he requested was the location of Will Magnus's assigned lab.

The door was innocuous, had a keycard reader to lock it. However, there was a piece of paper taped to the door, one that possessed only three words.

NO HUMANS ALLOWED

Who the hell was this Will Magnus and why was he engaging in such juvenile behavior? That had also been part of his research into the project. Magnus was a young prodigy, a man who had attended college and was working to a graduate degree while others his age struggled with algebra. By the time he reached his twenties, he was obtaining Ph.D. after Ph.D. The man hadn't even reached thirty yet and his education was far more impressive than people twice his age.

Perhaps he had been pushed into greatness too soon because this little sign here suggested an immaturity of a grade schooler.

Luthor put in a pin number, not needing a key card for the lock unlike the rest of the peons on this floor. It was a perk when you owned a business like LexCorp; he had access to everything.

The lock buzzed, flashed a red light, and refused to unlock.

Except apparently this room.

He inputted the code again to make sure he hadn't incorrectly entered it. Again, access was denied. That shouldn't be possible…unless Magnus had reprogrammed the lock. Grade school behavior, but the man knew his way around programming. Was this what attracted Ivo's attention?

Well, if Magnus thought he had beaten him, he couldn't be more wrong. This time, Luthor slipped out a key card and inserted it into the reader. Then he punched in another code, an override code. Every lock in the building had one, and it was all the same. His. Naturally, for security purposes, he required a key card to ensure that his override code couldn't be used with a laptop and hacked. The combination of the code and key card was needed and missing one would accomplish nothing.

This time, the lock buzzed, flashing a green light. Taking the door handle while removing his key card, Luthor opened the door and barged in. His brow furrowed the second he spotted state-of-the-art tech, a three-screen computer terminal being the crown jewel. What was this doing here when it could have been used for other, more important projects? Perhaps he was starting to underestimate this immature Magnus. To be able to ferret away his technology and under his own nose too…

"Magnus!" he called out, searching the lab for any sign of human life. He did spot a half-eaten sandwich, which meant someone had been here.

A crash that definitely occurred in this lab only confirmed that someone was still here. But where? Gesturing to Mercy, his bodyguard set to work, venturing deeper into the lab. When he heard the cry of a human voice, only then did Luthor follow.

Sure enough, Mercy had found her quarry. He looked young, thin as a rail, pretty much a starving college kid post immediate graduation. You couldn't even see any facial hair. Despite the earlier cry, this young man looked…shall we say, peeved. As if they were the ones trespassing.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my lab? You aren't supposed to be here!"

Funny.

"I have every right to be here," Luthor spoke up, placing his hands behind his back as he drew the young man's attention to him. "I own this lab and everything in it. You are Magnus, are you not?"

Oddly enough, the as-of-yet-to-be-confirmed Magnus looked up to him suspiciously. Slowly, he gave a nod, giving the confirmation. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Perhaps I wasn't clear. I own this lab as it is property of LexCorp, and lo and behold, I own LexCorp."

A pair of eyes blinked. "Lex Luthor?"

"In the flesh," Luthor confirmed.

Magnus looked up to Mercy who stood over him like a sentinel, perfectly willing to strike him down if he made one wrong move, or said one wrong word. Then back to the businessman, "You're still not supposed to be in here. No one is. Only me. My work is too important and sensitive."

"Project Metal Men, created for the purposes of allowing humanity access to dangerous, even toxic, environments for search and rescue, and retrieval missions. Places where humans cannot survive. I know about your work, Magnus," Luthor nearly drawled out. "Consider this a surprise inspection. I would like to know more about your work, and more importantly why you are trying to obtain platinum on my dime."

Ah, there we were. Fear. That was what reflected in Magnus' eyes. It was the same fear a child might possess upon being caught doing something troublesome.

"Now, I am a reasonable man," Luthor continued. "I do understand the concept that sometimes it is simpler to ask forgiveness than permission. Contrary to some rumors, I can forgive. However, I would very much like to know what I'm forgiving and if it is something that I can. You managed to use quite a bit of money—my own money—and so I would like to know what I am buying. So, show me what you have been working on, Magnus."

Magnus looked away, squirming under the scrutiny. It was enough to wear on Luthor's patience, enough that he decided to try a different tact.

"Professor Ivo spoke favorably about you and your work," he said with a softer tone of voice. "It has piqued my curiosity. What is it that Ivo finds interesting? Will you show me?"

Magnus gave a sigh. "Building…bodies is too much trouble," the younger researcher said at last, his voice high-pitched. Christ, he even sounded young. "Much of my work has been on the programming."

"What kind of programming?" Luthor asked mildly.

Giving a shrug of his shoulders, "Artificial intelligence."

There were no other words forthcoming, but then again, they weren't necessarily needed. How does one follow up an answer that involved artificial intelligence? However, it was the kind of answer that only birthed more questions, and first and foremost…

"What does a program that is supposed to create robots to go into dangerous environments have any need for artificial intelligence?"

"You can build better and better robots, but every situation is different." Finally, something more than questions and short answers. "A one size fits all robot is not possible. Impossible. One unforeseen event, the slightest miscalculation, and the robots are destroyed and unretrievable. And since such robots would have to rely on our programing and whatever information we can give, you might as well put your money in a pile and set it on fire.

"And standard programming is not going to cut it either. It's too slow—limited to only the data it has and what it can connect to. If you stick with that model, then you might as well shut down the project; hell, every robotics project you have. I mean, how many robots have you built that came back destroyed?"

Far too many. Luthor did not deign to answer that question.

"You can't do a one size fits all and you can't use our current programming, so go for a kind of programming that learns. Recalls. Adapts faster than anything else out there. The only kind of programming that does that can be found up here." Magnus tapped the side of his head, the implication behind his words obvious. "Artificial intelligence means a robot that can think for itself, learn, adapt. It's ready for the uncertain before meeting it. It can reason, problem solve, and do it all quickly. Far more reliable if you ask me. So that's what I have been working on. The intelligence programming and all that."

When Magnus offered nothing else, Luthor did a once over of the young man. Sloppily dressed, clothes were too baggy; really, he looked like a college student. Yet, for some reason, the man had drawn Ivo's attention. There was something here even if Luthor himself had problems seeing it. Further investigation was needed.

"Show me what you have," the mogul said invitingly.

Magnus' eyes flickered downward, not holding eye contact. Now that he thought about it, Magnus hadn't once met his eyes. Always looking over his shoulder, or a spot just over his head, or sometimes off to the side, but never eye to eye. The young researcher tried to take a step, but that brought him too close to Mercy and he backed away. A look was sent to Luthor, but he spoke no further.

Somebody didn't like human contact it seemed. Perhaps there was more to that sign than he had previously thought. Nodding his head to Mercy, his bodyguard backed away, allowing Magnus to slip by. The young man stalked his way to an odd-shaped counter, one with divots running through its surface. Placed in each divot was a metal orb, though the finer details Luthor could not see due to distance.

"I call them the Responsometers," Magnus explained, picking one up. Yellow, almost gold in color, there was what looked like a small depression on one end. It seemed lightweight from how the scientist held it. "This is what will be the core of the Metal Men. Each one has been individually designed, each one programmed with knowledge about specific situations based on historic data and current scientific understanding. Once they are submerged in their assigned metals—"

"Excuse me," Luthor interrupted, holding up a hand. "What do you mean by submerged?"

Magnus shrugged his shoulders and gestured to another part of the lab. Following the cue, Luthor looked and saw enclosed vats. The tops were transparent, and all but one were filled with…

"What is in there?" It was a half-question, half-demand. He had a feeling he knew what was in the vats, especially once he saw one that possessed a substance that had the same color as gold.

"The metals I've been…ordering. I've melted them down, and it's in there that each Responsometer will be placed. Once online, they will alter each metal and form their own bodies. Theoretically." Luthor did not need to look to know the young man was shrugging his shoulders again.

Molten metal? Meaning, metal in a liquid state? A state that these Responsometers would manipulate and form bodies? Metal-based bodies? This was almost taking the name Metal Men literally. No, it actually was Metal Men. Men made of metal, different kinds. Each one individually different, perhaps even capable of individual capabilities?

He was only just starting to grasp what was happening here, but there was one thing he needed to know.

"The Responsometers, they will be able to control each of your…Metal Men, shall we call them. They will work independently of one another, able to do different skills based on the metal composition, correct?"

"I figured some cases would call for iron over gold, some mercury over lead. Ivo suggested some tips, and…they helped some," Magnus admitted.

Ivo had given tips. Tips into the Responsometers' programming. At the end of the day, these Responsometers were one-of-a-kind computers, and computers could download new data all the time, could they not?

An idea was starting to form.

"If I may make a suggestion or two," Luthor said, turning back to Magnus. "I have some ideas of my own. Perhaps they will be of use to your work. If you allow me, then I will get you the platinum you want. Do we have a deal?"

The suspicion was back in Magnus' eyes, this time Luthor being the one to get the once-over. While the answer was not immediate, the young man did eventually speak.

"What kind of ideas?"

The United Nation delegates had returned to their meeting room as expected. Hro Talak was there to greet them as he assumed his position at the front of the room, behind the podium. However, he was not alone.

Next to him stood one of the leaders of the Green Lantern Corp, the Guardian Ganthet. He had met with the Thanagarian upon returning to this building, the blue-skinned man interested in what the humans had decided.

Hro was not against the Guardian's presence. They were in a precarious position and necessity made for strange bedfellows. If the presence of the Green Lanterns could convince the humans that an alliance was necessary and cooperative, then he would stand with them. He would stand with the Gordanians if he had to.

As the delegates assumed their seats, one of the diplomates came up to the podium and stood to one side of it, patiently looking at the towering Thanagarian warrior. It was quite clear the man wished to speak to the room and was awaiting permission to use the podium.

Hro took a step back and gestured to the podium, then moved to one side, coming to stand next to Ganthet. The human assumed the position behind the podium. "This emergency session of the United Nations is now convened," the man announced. "In accordance with the vote carried in this room, the United Nations wishes to convey its support to the Thanagarian delegates and the Green Lantern Corp."

A closed-lip smile appeared on Hro's face. Excellent, he had hoped for such a response. The human then stood to one side, looking to Hro as he copied his earlier gesture to the podium. Immediately, he strode forward, resuming his position.

"It pleases me that the Earth recognizes the threat that it is currently under," Hro proclaimed into the microphone extending from the podium. "Together, we can weather the approaching storm and I promise you that we shall."

Many of the delegates began to clap, which prompted others to join in until the entire room was filled with applause. It was some time before it calmed down and one of the delegates asked a question. "Since we are in agreement, we would like to know what the Thanagarians and Green Lanterns plan on doing to help protect Earth and its people."

"An appropriate question," Hro acknowledged. "My fellow Thanagarians will need to fully assess the Earth's current arsenals and defensive grids; though from a cursory glance, I can say that your current technology is inadequate, no disrespect intended. Thanagar will do all in its power to improve this situation."

"And what do you intend to do to help?" another delegate pressed.

Hro reached to the belt at his waist and pulled out a small device. Holding it out in front of him, he pressed a button and a bright light flowed upward from it. Within the light, a large digital structure appeared. It was round, with small, rounded towers at even intervals around its outer rim. A smaller circle was at its center, rising up much like the mouth of an Earth volcano. "This is what Thanagar refers to as a Defense Shield Generator. When operational, it creates an energy shield around a specific area, in this case Earth. This will be the first step in creating a defensive grid akin to the one that already exists on Thanagar."

"I'm assuming this is to scale," the first diplomat spoke.

"It is," Hro acknowledged.

"How big is this generator going to be?"

"I will not lie; it will be massive. To generate enough power for the shield, this will need to be the size of a small city. My people have already detected a number of potential locations so as to not disrupt your various nations."

There was murmuring throughout the chamber. "And what of the cost?" the same man pressed. "This cannot be cheap."

"Thanagar is willing to provide all materials and labor, providing Earth is willing to part with the necessary land. If there is anyone willing to assist in the construction, we will be willing to pay them adequate wages," Hro assured them. This seemed in line with the reports he had received of these strange people, so removing any reluctance was necessary."

"How about time?" another diplomat inquired. "Surely this cannot be completed in a day."

"You are correct in that assertion. This will be many weeks, but the more hands, such as the ones that exist within your Justice League, it will speed up the construction immensely."

"And what of the Kalanorians? Will it be completed before they arrive?"

Before Hro could answer, he received an assist from the Green Lantern Guardian. "At this time, a contingency of Green Lanterns are enroute to intercept the Kalanorians," Ganthet said. "We will do all that we can to delay, if not attempt to defeat the Kalanorians before their arrival. If we are unsuccessful, we will have this defensive system in place."

That was unexpected, but Hro highly suspected whatever resistance the Green Lantern Corp offered, it would suffer the same fate of all those that had encountered Despero in his current campaign. If all it took was a team of Green Lanterns, then Thanagar would not be here.

And seeing as they were, it spoke to his lack of confidence in this unexpected ally.

Returning to the Watchtower was a priority, especially after learning of the threat approaching Earth. The satellite was in need of repairs, the damages from the fight between J'onn and the brainwashed League members still requiring attention.

With an expanded League, each bringing either their expertise or an extra set of hands, hopefully the Watchtower would receive enough attention to be an asset. From the docking bay and deep into the satellite's inner sanctum, he could follow the damage, and he knew the guilt from Superman, Green Lantern, and Hawkgirl without needing to read their minds.

What was the past was the past, and Despero was coming. Guilt could be assuaged later.

First and foremost, what was the status of the Watchtower's power source? Had it sustained any damages? From there, they would need to examine the rest of their outpost for any damages in the wiring. Naturally, an examination of life support systems would have to occur in tandem.

J'onn made his way to the Monitor Room, a central hub that should be able to detect any problems or issues. The system itself was still functional, and a simple inquiry allowed for identifying the areas that were most affected. The bridge where the fighting had concluded along with the docking bay had sustained the worst of the damages, and it was these areas where the bulk of their members were assigned.

Exceptions included Steel and Black Lightning, who were to examine the power source and ensure its integrity. Without a stable source of electricity, all the repairs they were capable of would not matter. Everyone else were assigned their roles, powers taken into consideration, which soon left the Martian to seek out other tasks.

A full set of diagnostics was set to run, along with scans over the various instruments and equipment. One particular instrument was the scanning system they used to detect any and all objects approaching the planet. The majority of the time, it was simple debris such as meteorites that would burn up in the atmosphere, causing no problems to the people below. Knowing that the Kalanorians were planning a return, these scanners would be positioned to the outer reaches of the solar system. They should have warning ahead of time, if only to be able to place themselves at coordinated locations.

Part of his diagnostics of the scanning programs and systems had him going through the data log, something routine, only needed to make sure there were no inconsistencies.

Which was where he discovered the inconsistency.

In light of recent events, this should not be possible, and he closed his eyes to relax them before taking another look. The same result. He reloaded the data log, perhaps that should correct the issue.

It didn't.

This made no sense. He had seen the size of the World Engine and witnessed its terrifying power. Yet, according to the data log, there was no entry for the terraformer's arrival. None. Something that size should have tripped the sensors.

Unless…unless there had been damage to them during his fight with the brainwashed League members. If the World Engine had passed by the Watchtower during that time, it would have gone unnoticed, and any alerts would not have been given any attention. Any damage to the wiring that led from the sensors and to the monitoring terminal would produce a similar effect, in that the sensor detected the terraformer, but there was no computer connected to the sensor.

A quick diagnostic was run on top of all the others. The results would return slower, but this was too important to wait. Due to how specific it was, it ended before any of the other running diagnostics did, and so J'onn read them.

No problems identified? Did that mean that the sensors had not been damaged nor had their connection been impeded? Then how did the World Engine slip by? It did not make any sense. Yet, right there, he could see the alert raised around the time the Thanagarian fleet had arrived. The Thanagarians were detected, but not the Tamaraneans?

This thought led to another, and the Martian went through the data log once more. It hadn't just been the World Engine that had snuck past their security, but also a fleet of spacecraft piloted by Tamaraneans. The logs did not mention them either. How?

Pausing, J'onn then widened his search, going back several days. Specifically, he looked into the day when the Tamaranean ambassador had arrived. There, there was the communication from Titan Tower, and then with confirmation of security footage, he found the arrival of Galfore and that distracting meeting. He looked into the time when Galfore left the Watchtower, while verifying with the data log to estimate when that massive Tamaranean entered the atmosphere.

Nothing. There had been no detection of Galfore's ship. That could not be possible, their instruments constantly scanning and measuring the planet's atmosphere should have picked up that ship, yet the data log continued to say that nothing had caused any fluctuations. There was data about small rocks burning up in the protective barrier, but nothing on an alien vessel.

Was there something more to the Tamaranean ships and the World Engine? Something that allowed that fleet to slip past all radar and detection systems? There was no precedence for…no, no there was.

The last time the systems had failed to detect anything approaching Earth had been during the arrival of Brainiac. The Coluan's ship had made use of highly advanced stealth technology; however, its size had been so great that their sensors did pick it up.

Somehow, the Tamaraneans had located a stealth system of their own and used it to sneak onto Earth. That was the only explanation to explain the discrepancies he had found. That same stealth tech was probably embedded in the World Engine itself, something so large it…

It was nearly the size of Brainiac's ship, yet that skull ship still triggered their alert systems once it had made headway through the atmosphere. Was this something more advanced? Was that even possible?

There were too many questions, too many discrepancies to ignore. Yet, J'onn only had theories with only circumstantial evidence backing them. Nevertheless, he would inform the rest of the League about this development. There was a distinct possibility they would also have to open dialogue with A.R.G.U.S. as well to gain a better understanding of the World Engine as well.

This on top of Despero's rampage through the galaxy. This was not a good time for a mystery such as this, one that could not be afforded the time it needed to be thoroughly investigated.

There was a feeling of overwhelmingness, one that had become much too common recently. A shame that the world would not allow them the time to reconcile it.

There was something to be said about going home.

In this case, it was the Roost, the base for the Birds of Prey. Black Canary actually plopped herself down on one of the plush chairs in the main room. To be sure, it was a chair befitting a corporate lounge, so it screamed professionalism, but it was still rather comfy.

Huntress, Katana, and Manhunter trudged into the Roost, going through automatic motions as they went to various places in the room, where workbenches were, and began to remove their equipment. Katana's was the shortest as she placed a utility belt down on her workbench and picked up a sharpening stone. She took a seat on a nearby stool even as she drew out her sword and went to work on performing her sword maintenance.

It felt…strange coming back here after everything that had happened. They had been gathering at the Tower of Fate rather than in Gotham, or some other secret Bat-base Batman seemed to have in spades. That kinda happened when there was the threat of tyrannical League members. With that threat taken care of, there was no reason not to resume normal activities.

Except, there wasn't much they could really do since there was an armada of alien spaceships in orbit. Some were even hovering over Gotham much like various other cities.

"Is it just me, or are those bird people ships wrecking the view?" Manhunter spoke even as she placed her gear and bo staff on her table. "It's like we're under an occupation without their being an occupation."

"You're not the only one," Black Canary admitted. Even as they returned to Gotham, Nightwing continuing on to Bludhaven, and Ollie heading to check on Star City, those ships had loomed overhead, ever present, ever daunting. Something about them didn't feel right. Perhaps that was why Batman was still out in the field. It still left the question of where Batgirl and Zatanna were, but maybe they were still caught up in this latest mess. The same could be assumed for Martian Manhunter and the Flash. Dr. Fate…well, he had seemingly vanished once the battle with the Tamaraneans had concluded, so there was no telling where he was at. Maybe that Tower of his.

"Well, you're our resident expert on global threats," Huntress remarked. Yeah, she wasn't salty about being excluded from League membership still, couldn't you tell? "What do you make of this?"

Canary gave the purple-clad woman a deadpanned look. It wasn't her fault Batman had tabbed her to go on some spying mission on the League, even if she hadn't realized that's what it was. The guy had simply pointed her in the right direction and let her natural instincts take over. A part of her was rather annoyed, much like Ollie had been when they found that out, but in retrospect, if Batman had been upfront about it, she might have said no. Considering what had happened…

Well, let's just say her continued membership was on a probationary period.

Still, Huntress' question hung in the air. "Well, based on my last alien invasion, all I can say that this isn't good. That isn't even factoring the Kalanorians."

"You know, I don't recall that invasion being anything special," Manhunter commented. "What I mean is it wasn't like fighting Brainiac and that wasn't exactly easy. I know I wasn't in Gotham at the time, but all I had to do was fight off a whole gang with those plasma rifles. Think it'll be anything like that?"

Canary shook her head. "From what it sounds like, from what that Talak guy told the League and then the United Nations, the Kalanorians are playing a different game. They were conquering planets and now they're just destroying them. That doesn't bode well."

"Then we can expect less ground fighting," Katana surmised. The repeated scraping sounds of stone on steel had made for a consistent metronome during their talk. "Most, I think, we'll be in the sky or space."

"Which puts us on the backburner," Huntress groused. Then a thoughtful look appeared on her face. "Not that I'm opposed. Getting back to good, old corruption and average joe crimes seems really appealing."

Yeah, familiar routines were definitely appealing. However, Black Canary had the feeling that such things were going to be fewer than expected. If there was one thing criminals had proven, when something big was going down, they tended to take cover and wait for the fallout before resuming business as usual.

It was a break, a small one, but one nonetheless. The blonde vigilante felt that it was the only one they were going to get before this latest invasion ramped up. While their uses were minimal at the moment, they would need to be ready. Not every invasion played the same way, so they couldn't expect the same thing to happen this time.

To Guest: There will be plenty of fallout from that