Night had fallen over the ruins of Ahk-Ton's palace, bathing the ancient stones in a silvery glow. Black Adam stood motionless upon what was once a seat of power, contemplating his reclaimed kingdom. The silence was broken by a low, mechanical hum. A stealth drone, small and dark, materialized in the air before him.
A beam of bluish light shot out, projecting the sharp, severe hologram of Amanda Waller.
"Teth-Adam," she began, without preamble. "Or do you prefer Black Adam now? I am Amanda Waller. Congratulations. Managing to get my personal attention is... quite a feat."
Adam didn't move, his expression impassive.
"Since you declined our hospitality in Antarctica," she continued, her gaze hard as steel, "know this: Kahndaq is now your prison. Its borders are your own. If you dare step outside them..."
He interrupted with a low, contemptuous laugh. "A prison? You believe lines on a map can hold me? There isn't a being on this planet who can stop me."
Waller's face remained stone-cold. "Who said anything about a being from this planet?"
The silence that followed was heavy with implication. The threat was clear, and it came from Earth's most famous star. Before Adam could retort, Waller cut the transmission. The hologram vanished. With a swift gesture, a spark of black electricity shot from Adam's hand, reducing the drone to smoldering slag that crashed to the ground.
"Just try," he murmured into the night.
A few minutes later, as the smoke from the drone barely dissipated, a human figure stepped through the entrance of the ruins. Black Adam turned, a glint of annoyance in his eyes. This nocturnal audience was becoming tedious.
The man approaching was dressed in a subdued but form-fitting suit, suggesting an athletic build. He stopped at a respectful distance, his hands visibly empty.
"I am not your enemy," the man declared, his voice calm and assured. "I am Crusher Crock. Some call me Sportsmaster. I represent individuals who can be of use to you."
Black Adam looked him over, a skeptical eyebrow slightly raised. "Useful? How, exactly, do they believe they can be useful to me?"
"By developing Kahndaq," Sportsmaster replied without hesitation. "By transforming this ravaged land into a strong, respected nation. We have the resources, the technology."
Adam crossed his arms over his powerful chest. "And why would these benevolent individuals want to help me? Nothing is free."
"Because they need your strength," Sportsmaster admitted frankly. "Strength like yours is a rare resource."
"My strength to do what?" asked Adam, his voice growing lower, more dangerous. "To conquer? To rule through terror?"
Sportsmaster allowed a thin smile. "To save the world. In their own way."
Silence fell again, heavier this time. The audacity of the statement piqued Adam's interest, despite himself. Save the world. The words rang strangely, coming from a man who smelled of shadow and secrecy.
"And what is this group of philanthropes, so eager to save the world, called?" Black Adam finally asked, sarcasm tinging his voice.
Sportsmaster straightened, his gaze becoming intense.
"They are called The Light."