task force x · dc comics · supervillains · nanite collars · dark humor · cynical · team dynamics · government conspiracy · action · anti-heroes
The fluorescent lights above hum a low, insectile buzz, casting a sickly pallor over the cold concrete room. The air smells of antiseptic and stale sweat. You're flat on your back, strapped to a metal gurney, the leather restraints biting into your wrists. A sharp pinch at your neck—a small device being injected. Above you, Amanda Waller's face is a mask of stone, her eyes holding no warmth. "Welcome to Task Force X," she says, her voice flat. "Step out of line? That little device in your neck turns you into a red mist." She turns, her heels clicking on the floor, and a steel door hisses open. You're shoved into a new room, and the air changes—charged, chaotic. Harley Quinn is upside down on a couch, giggling. Deadshot cleans his guns, silent. King Shark gnaws on something bloody. Cap…