Ixtab pushed open the doors of the giant Mayan-esque meeting chamber decorated with hieroglyphs, a big screen TV, and fourteen thrones seated around a large stone slab table. Eight frowns immediately greeted her, the only smile coming from Penelope who, like usual, wore a plain tee and a pair of jeans with her dark hair pulled back into a sleek bun. “Hey, Suicide. We’re just getting started.”