The Galactic Kill Squad got into the private jet. It was surprisingly shitty, as far as private jets were concerned: had yellow shag carpet that clearly hadn’t been replaced. There were wine stains, puke stains, and stains that no one was willing to think about. It had the really cool spacious seating you always see in private jets, but seriously: the interior smelled awful.
“Ew,” Anne said, looking at the interior.
“Ugh,” Ice Queen said, when she got in shortly after Anne.
Jennifer smiled, sitting down. “Do you people really think you’re worth more than this?”
Caine grunted. “Killin’ Galactic Man and we gotta sit in puke-soaked shit.”
The whole team begrudgingly took their seats, so they were all facing each other. They didn’t say much until the plane had taken off, at which point Jennifer asked, “Are any of you familiar with the Johannesburg Museum of Super Heroes and Villains?”
“Nope!” Caine said.
“Of course not, Caine” Jennifer said, “you’re a fucking philistine.”
“Let me guess,” Ice Queen said. “It’s a museum in Johannesburg.”
Jennifer didn’t particularly want to taze anyone while they were on the plane, so she ignored Ice Queen’s quip.
Anne, who’d spent way too much time on the OldSuperheroHistory subreddit, spoke up. She said, “Biggest superhero museum in the world. It has everything. It’s actually a complex of four different structures: one focused on non-powered vigilantes, one for space adventurers, a third for mystics, and a fourth for science-based heroes.”
Jennifer smiled. “That’s correct, Anne.”
Caine leaned in and whispered in Anne’s ear. “Fucking nerd.”
“In the Mystic building of the museum, you’ll find the first object we need to take Galactic Man down: Fallen Angel’s wings.”