Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 454: Luthor’s Hidden Gambit

Orm led her to a dead-end alley. Under Mera's puzzled gaze, he fumbled at a corner, and with a "whoosh," the wall sank into the floor.

Behind it stretched a corridor no one knew existed, linking to Atlantis's true secret—one Orm had never shared.

"When I ruled, I erased this from history and altered the palace blueprints. This place hides Atlantis's most powerful weapon."

Orm explained briefly, ushering her onward.

Just then, Mera's head throbbed—a psychic link hooked into her mind.

She saw Arthur, escorted by three monsters, clearly a prisoner, with Black Manta watching the show.

"Arthur?! Where are you?"

"It's me, my love. You've got to run—" Arthur's image flickered before her, reaching out. "These are alien sea gods. I'm on their so-called Blood Reef. You've got to hurry—"

Mera reached back, but before their fingers touched, the link cut out, and Arthur's image vanished.

"What's wrong?"

Orm turned, seeing Mera frozen, clutching her head like she was dazed.

"I just saw Arthur—it was some psionic link to my mind. Not telepathy, something... higher."

Mera shook it off, matching Orm's pace.

Orm's face darkened at her words. He swam faster. "That means they've found Arthur's real power. Damn it, we're out of time—move!"

They swam a short stretch to a massive door, carved with stunning seahorse and shell reliefs.

Orm kicked it open and led Mera inside.

"Tell me, Mera—what do you know about Arian?" Orm spoke fast, guiding her deeper into the hall.

"Uh... a great explorer, an Atlantean hero. He formed a league, bound by the sea."

Mera tried closing the door behind them, but it wouldn't budge—locked open.

"This is the Crown Hall. I wiped it from history too when I ruled. Keep going—what else do you know?" Orm pressed, urgency in his voice.

Mera frowned, digging through memory. "Legend says Poseidon favored him, gave him an artifact to contact the cosmos. But he only summoned monsters. He teamed up with Amazons and humans against aliens, died a hero."

Orm sneered. "That wasn't Poseidon's favor—it was a curse. He fought three alien sea gods. Surviving that? No chance!"

Mera shook her head, red hair swaying in the water.

"But those are just fairy-tale variants—like the surface's King Arthur tales. Stories. We tell kids to respect the unknown seas."

Orm sighed, raising a finger.

"First, King Arthur's story is real—he existed. You know too little about the surface! Second, Arian's tale is true too. It's a secret buried in Atlantean royalty!"

"Why'd you bring me here?"

Mera scanned the room. Dozens of statues—past kings and heroes—lined it, each with a pedestal holding their crown.

The tall statues' gazes didn't fix on the crowns—they looked outward, distant.

"For a weapon. See Arian's crown?"

Orm pointed back. On the highest pedestal sat an ornate crown.

Atlantean crowns were usually plain gold, maybe a few small gems.

Arian's was different. A massive gem at its forehead—big as Mera's clasped fists—glowed eerie blue in the purple water, rippling like waves.

"That's the Godhorn! An alien conch. It's got another use—it'll guide you to Arian's tomb. There's the 'Tear of Extinction,' Atlantis's ultimate weapon. It can kill gods, like Arian used it to slay an alien sea god."

Mera's eyes lit up. She swam over, gently prying the Godhorn from the crown.

She cradled it, feeling its smooth, jade-like warmth.

"If it's real, we can save the world."

"I don't give a damn about the surface." Orm locked eyes with her, bubbles spilling out. "I care about this city. Remember your duty. Remember Arian's lesson. Save Atlantis."

Before Mera could reply, a booming voice echoed through the hall.

"There's nothing left for you to save!"

It was Blackbeard, the Lone Captain—one of the alien sea gods. He'd arrived with his freaky sea-tribe army.

Did they let Arthur contact Mera out of kindness? A last goodbye before death?

Hell no. They just wanted to ping Mera's location so their sea monster "Floodfiend" could teleport the army in.

Arthur had a life-force tied to the ocean—the cradle of all life. A bridge between land and sea, he was unique.

The sea gods knew it, but that "life-force" was their new ally's prize.

Luthor wanted it. He demanded the life-force.

The Sea God Triumvirate? They wanted revenge—and to free their kin!

The Tomb of the Gods wasn't a graveyard—it was a prison for these alien sea gods. Back when they hit Earth, it wasn't just the three of them. They were escapees—more were still locked up.

They'd busted out, but in that weird space, without a key, they couldn't find the others' cells.

They needed that key to spring them, locate the cages.

Earth's myths were wrong. The Tomb of the Gods didn't hold the Tear of Extinction. Only Luthor knew that.

That sly bald bastard hadn't told a soul—not even his Doom Legion.

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He was after Arian's tomb, not the Tomb of the Gods. The latter was just a smokescreen.

Luthor knew his real foe was Batman—he'd tasted the Dark Knight's intel game before.

If Atlantis wasn't pushed to the brink, they'd never pull out the hidden Godhorn, right?

So Baldy sent a beacon, striking a deal with the alien sea gods.

He'd help them free their kin and let them trash Earth for payback. In return, he'd get the life-force and the Tear of Extinction.

He sent Cheetah and Black Manta to kill Poseidon—partly a favor to his new pals, partly to throw the League off the scent.

Two birds, one stone.

But the Tear of Extinction—a rule-bending terror weapon—the sea gods wanted it too. Luthor, generous as ever, agreed to split it fifty-fifty.

That wasn't the Triumvirate's original plan—they just wanted the key to the Tomb of the Gods.

It was Luthor who had Black Manta plant the ship-in-a-bottle at the lighthouse, with clues even a moron could follow, luring Aquaman into the trap.

The sea gods could've tracked the key themselves with that bottle, but Luthor hid that intel too—didn't share it with his "allies."

He needed the Triumvirate to face off with the Justice League. The bottle's intel gap was a godsend.

He just told his dimwit pals to watch the guy in gold armor—he'd fetch the Tomb of the Gods' key.

And the sea gods took the bait.

When Arthur nabbed that scepter, they snatched it from him effortless, ordering the sea monster to zap them to Blood Reef.

But shit hit a snag.

Who'd guess a sea king would hand off his people's treasure to someone else?

The three sea gods never saw it coming. After finding the key, Arthur weighed it a sec, then tossed it to Diana.

The key was with another woman. During the teleport, her godly gear and thrashing screwed the precision—she got flung to some unknown cosmic corner.

Even the three sea gods had no clue where she'd landed.

Tough luck—they lost the key themselves. Who's to blame?

Their pal Baldy did his part. Now it was their turn to help him hunt the Tear of Extinction.

To Luthor, the sea gods were pawns—distractions for the League, free muscle to clear his path.

In the end, Luthor'd show all gods—Earth's or alien—what human intellect could do.

"Who are you?! Who dares trespass on sacred ground?!"

Mera roared at the Lone Captain.

"I was a sea god of Okari—a planet the size of your Jupiter! I had the cosmos's deepest oceans. Now? I've got nothing! Damn Earth sea-tribes—feel Okari's wrath!"

The Lone Captain was angrier—and stronger—than her.

One wave of his hand, and a train-sized water blast shot at them. His goons swarmed in behind.

Mera conjured a hard-water shield for her and Orm, holding on tight. But he was a god—a casual water flick was damn near unstoppable.

The blast shoved them back, grinding down the shield. Four deep grooves scarred the floor—their feet plowed trenches.

"Orm, I don't think we can hold much longer."

Mera gritted her teeth, pouring everything into keeping the shield up. If that train of purple water hit, they'd both turn fishmen.

Puppets for the alien sea gods.

"No, you've got to take the Godhorn and go. I'll buy time. Leave me some safe water—run."

Orm didn't hesitate. He bolted from the shield, taking the sea god's torrent head-on with his body.

"No! Orm, get back here!"

"If my brother survives, tell him he's a bastard who doesn't deserve this nation—for Atlantis!"

Orm shouted, swinging his trident, countercharging the enemy. He blocked the torrent and the goons.

But the blast wore through his hard-water coating—he was turning.

Still, his will kept him fighting. Half-fishified, he tangled with the pursuers.

This was Orm's life-bought chance—Mera wouldn't waste it.

She glanced back at fishman Orm, swarmed by foes, and took the shot, bolting through the door.

Clutching the blue Godhorn.

"Chase her! Kill that woman, grab the treasure!"

The Lone Captain barked at his goons to hunt Mera while fishman Orm pinned him down.

No clue why—this sea-tribe guy, even converted, wouldn't obey. The mutation made Orm tougher, and his reckless style forced the Captain to dodge a bit.

Meanwhile, goons were goons—good at screwing up, bad at succeeding.

Octopus- and lobster-looking sea freaks couldn't match Mera's speed. They lost her fast.