"One:: Because I agree with you about the supers. As much as it'd be nice to blindly trust that the Big Three or the First Seven would always do what's best, there's a fuck ton of alternate universes where that doesn't mean well. Let's not have all of Earth's power in one spandexed basket."
"That said, I'm backstage access to the League. Two. The Cuban Missile crisis ran the way it did not because of official channels, but because someone knew someone knew someone's mistress. Should shit ever hit the fan, you would have a iron clad way to reach the League."
"Three: Gives you some big fucking moxy at the war room. You are the spearhead to keep the supers in check, weaponizing metas for your own intents and you got me, with all my sheet, as your minion."
"Four, my precog may not be as good as other metas, but I assure you, I'll be damn more helpful than your bodyguards should there be an ambush. And five, you train me, and you have a way to make sure your plans are carried on, regardless if you retire or it's a coup by the hupped-up roid-sweating warhawks in your council. A legacy, public or not."