Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 464: War Breaks Out

"Deathstroke!"

Donna's face lit up with joy. She'd lived in human society for years—school, dorms, the whole deal with other girls.

She'd once dreamed of fairy-tale princes.

Like, in her darkest hour, a hero riding in on a white horse, clad in shining armor, to save her.

But she'd outgrown that little-girl fantasy fast.

The men she knew were too weak. Even Robin, the strongest on the team, couldn't match her.

Better to save herself—or wait for her sister—than bank on a guy.

Sure, she'd been rescued a few times, but it was either the married red-and-blue guy or the pitch-black Bat.

Not what she'd pictured.

As an Amazon, she admired skilled warriors—not aliens or rich dudes.

But now, Donna realized black-and-yellow armor wasn't half bad.

Su Ming's helmet visor glinted as he nodded—a greeting.

He wasn't as chipper as Donna.

The Nightfall Greatsword had pierced Zhenhai clean through, but the feel was off.

The guy's scales were nothing—paper-thin—but the blade didn't hit flesh or organs. It felt like stabbing a water balloon.

A glance at the wound: no blood. Zhenhai had elementalized instantly. This was an alien god, battle-hardened.

"Donna, fall back. I've got this."

He yanked the sword out, swinging for Zhenhai's neck.

Elementalizing? Then take the head.

Sight, hearing—all the senses were up there. Even if it didn't kill, it'd cripple his combat power.

Strip four of the five senses first.

If it worked, he'd be meat on a slab—slice him however you like.

Even if he didn't die right away, it'd buy time to strategize.

But Zhenhai wasn't a pushover. The second the sword left his chest, he spun, attacking Su Ming.

His armor—pierced by an Earth creature? The shame!

Forget the other bugs—this black-and-yellow one died first.

Judging by the weapon's swing speed and the air's decibel kick, Su Ming clocked Zhenhai's strength as above his own.

No way he was taking that hit head-on.

Tactic: stay mobile, lean on the weapon's edge to whittle him down.

Decapitation was tricky now, but an eye jab or an ear slice? That'd snowball into a win.

Hit an eye, he'd elementalize, lose sight—perfect for a cheap shot, like a sorceress counter-spell.

He spotted the Titans across the way, gawking like statues.

Most didn't matter, but Raven was there. M'gann too.

With Nightshade and Black Alice on his side, that'd do.

Shame Raven wasn't rocking her animated 'dead pool' swimsuit. She had fishnets and thigh-high boots now.

Mature, sultry—less skin, though...

Mind wandering, Su Ming traded a few blows with Zhenhai.

Gotta say, the guy's fight skills weren't half-bad.

Su Ming's strikes? Zhenhai parried with his divine hard-water spear, shedding the force.

His weapon was no match for Su Ming's, though. Nightfall Greatsword chopped it like sugarcane—but cutting water got you nowhere. Zhenhai's sea supply was endless.

Hack off a chunk, it grew back—near infinite.

Su Ming grit his teeth. If he didn't end this here, it'd be a bigger mess later.

Time to dip into his hidden reserves.

He ordered Venom and the Magicape into the fray.

Gunshots echoed through the ship instantly. Venom sprouted tendrils from his back, grabbed pistols, and sprayed like they were SMGs.

Deathstroke's guns were modded—fast-firing—but ammo wasn't infinite. What a wasteful symbiote.

And the divine-metal Gauss rounds? With the gods out of commission, Hephaestus might not smith again. Run dry, and it's a trek to the Yellow Lanterns' weapon master—far as hell.

Fine. Guns just stretched his reach. Damage-wise, they were more scare and distraction. The real play was the Magicape's teamwork.

Nothing fancy—three moves in its playbook.

Wrap the enemy's arms and yank, tangle their legs for a trip, or shroud their head to blind them.

For a mage, the cape's split-second edge might mean squat. Even with soft hands tying six seals a second, no big spell's coming out.

But for a warrior—especially Deathstroke—that cape flashing past an enemy's eyes, even for a fraction of a second, was an opening he'd seize.

Suddenly, Su Ming gained the upper hand in close combat with Zhenhai. Still couldn't land a killing blow, though.

Give him more time to spot a weakness through observation, and he'd bag another god-kill today.

Donna rejoined her team. This chaotic, high-speed fight was beyond her—torrents, lightning, bullets, and blade flashes tearing through a tight space, shredding walls and floors.

She could see it, but her brain couldn't keep up.

M'gann just stood there, jaw dropped, watching Deathstroke hack at the alien sea god. Not much effect—just chipping water and armor bits.

Compared to Superman's thrashing earlier, though? Night and day.

Not that Su Ming outclassed Clark—his weaknesses were just harder to pin down.

Even a god—DC's brand of god—couldn't crack him easily.

Enemies knowing what a symbiote was? Or ever seeing a Magicape prop?

Su Ming wielded every fighting style from two Earths. Just as Zhenhai thought he'd caught a pattern to counter, the black-and-yellow blur switched it up.

Zhenhai was beyond frustrated, stuck eating fresh waves of attacks.

He'd feel a rhythm—then it'd change again.

All he could do was elementalize, feeling the cold bite of X-Metal slice through him, back and forth.

Yeah, that weapon was the worst. X-Metal—stuff that forged multiverses—used as a blade coating?

Zhenhai was speechless.

Donna felt two pokes at her waist. Turning, she caught Raven's sly, teasing look.

"So, you whacked me earlier 'cause you knew he'd save you?"

"No, I didn't know." Donna rubbed her face like a cat washing up.

Raven, unconvinced, leaned in, puffing her cheeks to blow air by her ear. "Still hiding it? I heard him—he called you 'his people.' Whooosh."

Donna froze. Why'd Deathstroke say that? Talk about misleading—what now? What if Diana found out?

How to explain? She knew nothing—though, yeah, it kinda thrilled her.

Garth shifted back from pangolin, nails worn to nubs. Finally, no more digging.

"I heard it too. But if it's Deathstroke, he'd kill us all."

Beast Boy figured Deathstroke had some evil scheme, cozying up to Donna—tricking the naive warrior girl!

Donna pursed her lips, smacking Garth's head.

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"If he hadn't shown up, I'd be dead."

Beast Boy took the hit, clutching his head, turning into a seal and nodding nonstop.

Whatever Donna said was right—just don't hit the face.

"There's nothing between us. He's probably just taunting the enemy."

Raven glanced at the pummeled sea god, then at Donna's flushed face, eyes sharpening.

"Oh, taunting the enemy, huh? Got it. Warrior world's so complicated."

But she pulled a goofy face, stretching her cheeks into a dopey look—zero faith in Donna's excuse.

Fooling ghosts? Think I'm a kid? We're not Teen Titans anymore!

Donna gave up explaining. She was a little smitten, but what about her sister? She pictured clashing swords with Diana.

She shook her head, banishing the thought. Future problems for later—she felt off since rejoining the Titans.

Infected by Aquaman and Beast Boy's idiocy?

She studied the fight. Deathstroke's edge was slim—pure tactics holding it together.

"Rachel, can you do something?"

"Hm? I can let him lead the team for a bit, try to set you two up, oh—and I'll cover with Diana. If she wants to kill you, we'll strike first."

Raven answered with an innocent grin, slicing a hand downward.

Donna palmed her forehead, brain aching. Cold puns now?

"Not that—look at this mess. What can you do?"

Donna pointed at the tangled man-god brawl ahead.

"Oh, that." Raven stuck out her tongue, tugged off her hood, and studied it. "If that seawater in him is blood, I could try Blood Boil magic."

One of Raven's signature dark spells—manipulating otherworldly energy to vaporize a target's blood.

It'd turn to gas, spewing from their eyes and ears—red mist like boiling blood.

Touch it, though, and it's cold as ice, not hot.

With Nightwing gone, Donna was captain. Like the Justice League sans Batman—Wonder Woman called shots.

Since Donna said go, Raven wouldn't hesitate over the spell's evil vibe.