Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 473: Rescue

Su Ming got it now. Back when he'd trashed Aquaman 2.0, Arthur must've caught the broadcast somehow. To puff up his own rep and the League's, he'd claimed Deathstroke as a "friend."

But these aliens, with their wonky logic, figured torturing Arthur would spill Deathstroke's secrets.

Good luck with that. Even Batman hadn't sniffed out Su Ming's weak spots—let alone this dimwit.

Su Ming smirked inwardly. Talk about rotten luck for this guy.

Snatched early, stuck in endless interrogation—if he'd been any later, Arthur might've been fish food by now.

While Su Ming stifled a laugh outside, the two fish inside were losing it.

Tidal Rage didn't mess around—she'd kill without a second thought. She wanted Deathstroke intel from Arthur's mouth. If the interrogators failed, they were dead meat.

"Get the tools!" Octopus-head growled.

Shark-head nodded, ducking into the next room.

Su Ming, hand on the door, pulled back. Target located—might as well see what alien tricks could come in handy later.

Soon, Shark-head rolled back with a cannon.

A legit cannon—siege-grade barrel, wheeled base, creaking like it weighed a ton.

Su Ming blinked. Weren't they just digging for intel? Now it's execution? Cannon fire?

But that bore was massive—like a dye vat.

He'd guessed wrong. Not an Earth-style cannon—it was an alien torture rig.

Looked similar, sure, but worlds apart.

Shark-head popped a hatch underneath, yanked out a hose, and hooked it to a wall spigot.

One twist of the valve, and the cannon's front spewed filth nonstop. It was a "drum washer"—stuff the prisoner in the barrel and drown them in waste.

"No!"

Arthur clocked it too. No way he was swimming in alien crap—he let out a wail.

Octopus-head raised a hand, pausing Shark-head.

"Ready to talk?"

"I told you—I don't know!"

Octopus-head's grin faded. No confession meant their necks were next.

"Use the tool!"

As Arthur's cross flipped upside-down, about to dunk into the muck, Su Ming shoved the door open.

The earlier beating was a lively show—just surface wounds, no biggie. But this nasty stuff? Too far.

Time to save Arthur—less for his trauma, more so Su Ming could still stomach dinner.

He barged in. The fish duo froze, then dropped to their knees, trembling hard.

Aquaman 2.0 was the trio's heavy hitter—not just old and battle-hardened, but a loose cannon temper-wise.

Word was he'd been stripped naked, broadcast to thousands. His mood? Predictable.

"￥#@%#*"

They knelt, babbling alien gibberish Su Ming couldn't parse.

Whatever. He grabbed both heads, smashed them together, twisted, and yanked them off.

Blood and brains sprayed everywhere. Even Arthur, dangling upside-down, gagged as pulp hit his face.

Stranglehold snuck a taste—too fishy, no good.

"Arthur?"

"Aquaman 2.0! You're killing your own again."

Su Ming nodded. Guy's still got lungs—should move fine. Get him down, walk out, done.

"I'm not their god—I'm Deathstroke." Su Ming fiddled with the cross's controls, explaining.

"You? How'd you get in?" Arthur's face was a big ol' question mark, disbelief written all over.

Su Ming flashed his real mug, then let Stranglehold reseal it. "Like you see—walked in."

This alien gear was a puzzle. Which button resets? Which lowers?

If Arthur weren't hovering over poop, Su Ming'd just snap the chains. But no way he's nearing that bucket.

Screw it—trial and error.

He hit a button. Arthur jolted down, hair nearly dipping into the black sludge.

"Ah! Wrong one! The other!"

Choking on the stench inches away, Arthur's eyes watered. Too close!

Su Ming shrugged. Now he knew, right?

No shame—he swapped buttons, testing combos.

After swinging Arthur over the cesspit for ages, he finally reset.

Su Ming stepped up, Stranglehold pitching in, snapping the chains to free him.

"Still mobile?"

He patted Arthur's back—guy was drenched in cold sweat.

"Barely. Thanks for the save. Next time, bring someone who reads alien tech."

Arthur winced, clutching wounds, stretching his back with a groan.

Su Ming cracked the door, peeked out. "Where am I snagging a tech whiz? Make do. What, planning to get nabbed again?"

"Just in case. Justice League gets captured a lot, y'know."

Arthur made a weird face, snagging the whip that'd lashed him and snapping it in two.

"Alright, let's bail. Wonder Woman, Titans, Shadowpact—they're on the ship outside, ready to roll."

No one outside, but Su Ming wasn't using the door. Noise confirmed no quick response.

Target secured—why sneak? Smash the wall, fly back, call it a day.

"My trident's still with them."

Arthur spread his hands—weaponless, itching to grab it.

Su Ming gave him a look. "What weapon? That trident's just divine metal—pennies. Their goal's Earth—they'll deliver it to your door. Why slug it out here?"

Enemy stronghold—grabbing a trident was a dumb risk, zero payoff.

"Oh, yeah, haha." Arthur scratched his head, grinning sheepishly, like he'd missed the obvious.

"Hold the door—I'm blasting the wall."

Su Ming waved him aside, clearing the wall.

It'd been a while since he last saw Klarion. Should have fresh fireballs stocked by now.

Earth was still apocalyptic. Any wizards not fish yet would be despair-dumping magic, right?

Even without main-world casters, other multiverse ones could tap in. Klarion's a DC-shared concept now—other universes' wizards borrowed his juice too.

Bet they're confused—waking up to flipped magic rules.

Fireballs weren't heavy hitters, but hundreds in a line, precision-targeted? Big hole, easy.

Loud as hell, though.

Sunlight streamed in. Su Ming grabbed Arthur's arm, no hesitation, and bolted.

Back on the ship, Cyborg was primed. Before Tidal Rage could catch up, they peeled out.

"Damn it!"

She clutched Arthur's trident, shrieking at the sky.

Ditching his own weapon—what kinda sea king was this?!

Too late—he was gone. Rage was all she had left.

Onboard, the mood flipped. Arthur saved, Earth's rescue inching closer.

But Wonder Woman clocked something off. Arthur was barely above human now.

She asked. Arthur broke it down simple.

He'd had this energy—bossed sea critters, crazy strong, multiverse-linked, life-creating stuff.

Now? Stripped by the sea gods, handed to Black Manta.

He still felt traces—enough for slow healing and some toughness.

But he was weak, drained.

That regen was glacial—couldn't touch Deathstroke's, lagged behind even Flash's amateur healing.

No worries—Beast Boy was here.

"Beast Boy, patch Arthur up. Need anesthesia? Grab venom from Ivy."

Beast Boy was a tenth of a doc—leagues below Holloway's surgical chops, even Alfred outclassed him.

Amazon warrior level: bandage, pray.

Team's combat spread was tight, but no medic—awkward spot.

"No, I'm fine—won't die. Wonder Woman, you still got that thing I gave you?"

Arthur waved Beast Boy off. A chimp doing surgery? Sketchy.

Beast Boy didn't want to either—his skills weren't even med-tier.

Deathstroke said jump, he jumped.

"Yeah, right here." Wonder Woman unclipped a scepter-like rod from her belt. "What is it?"

Arthur took it, staring, sighing deep. "Overheard stuff with the enemy. It's the Tomb of Gods' key—where these alien sea gods were locked up."

"Locked up? Gods?" Wonder Woman arched a brow.

"Or sealed, maybe—I'm fuzzy." Arthur grimaced. "It's like jail cells, linked small spaces forming a big one. They need this to find other trapped sea gods."

"What's that to us?" Wonder Woman frowned. Why not hit Earth, link with Batman and Superman, and steamroll the enemy?

Arthur got serious, pleading. "Poseidon's not dead. They tossed him in the same cells that held them—time's frozen there. They want him to feel their pain. They're hellbent on revenge against Earth's sea clans, Poseidon's betrayal. I need the truth."

His earnest gaze—rare for him—left Wonder Woman torn on refusing.

Maybe Poseidon had a way to win. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands of years ago, he and Arian beat these sea clans and jailed them, right?

She looked to Su Ming, hoping he'd greenlight chasing the key to the Tomb of Gods.

Deathstroke still called the shots here.

He was suiting up, cig in mouth, looking like he couldn't care less about truth or trump cards.

"Want truth? A way to beat them? Find Poseidon? I can tell you."

All guesses, he added silently.