Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 421: Blocked Again

"The environment here is practically a mashup of the Underworld, Hell, and the public restrooms of the New York subway station."

Albera, chomping on a cigarette, squinted her eyes and let out a curse worthy of Deadpool.

At this point, the group had arrived at the base of what used to be Mount Olympus. But now? It was a death-ridden canyon choked with brownish-yellow miasma straight out of a horror comic.

Withered, charred vines blocked the path ahead, and beneath the roadside boulders, you could faintly spot fragments of white bones—like something out of a Gotham crime scene.

Greek-style, multi-faceted pillars, now cloaked in mushrooms and lichen, leaned crumbling into the mist, looking like relics from Themyscira gone to rot.

"You forgot one thing—it's got a dash of Gotham's sewers too," Bobo chimed in, eyeing the scenery. The place now resembled a deep brown nightmare, everything feeling unreal except for the miasma stinging their noses like a chemical attack from Scarecrow.

Su Ming was busy checking the basic analysis on his visor—think Tony Stark's HUD. The data showed this brownish-yellow gas was harmful to all red-blooded creatures, human or otherwise.

"Albera, whip up some protective magic for Bobo, Flash, Zatanna, and yourself. You can't breathe this air."

Su Ming wasted no time barking orders. He and Donna were fine—he had his helmet and symbiote (hello, Venom vibes), while Donna had divine artifacts straight out of Wonder Woman's arsenal.

From here on out, they'd be plunging into a canyon below ground level, with the sky above cluttered by abandoned structures and twisted, mutated plants—like a post-apocalyptic Mad Max set meets Poison Ivy's worst garden.

In tight spots like this, flight powers weren't as handy as the Speed Force.

Though they didn't know exactly where this so-called "third magical pillar" was inside the mountain, they'd at least need to cross the canyon to reach the hollowed-out interior.

Since the plan was to ambush Hecate—think a mystical Doctor Doom with witchy flair—sneaking in like ninjas was the smarter play. Otherwise, Su Ming would've just flown over, blasted a tunnel with some Iron Man-level explosives, or dug his way in like the Hulk.

Thanks to the Speed Force, he'd gotten here ahead of Hecate. To keep her off guard, they had to make sure she arrived without spotting any Avengers-style construction projects.

Looking at it from the outside was one thing—stepping into the fog was a whole other beast.

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Besides the miasma screwing with visibility, the biggest issue was the omnipresent stench—like a swamp crossed with the breath of the Swamp Thing. It was the smell of plants and animals rotting in muck.

No one knew how many corpses had piled up here back in the day, but what they were walking on now was basically a mass graveyard—Arkham Asylum's basement vibes.

In a place like this, even Barry Allen didn't feel like talking. Sure, he had magical protection, but his skin still felt sticky, like the stink was burrowing into him—maybe a touch of Clayface's gooey charm.

The path started off wide enough, twisting left and right with no light, but at least they could walk side by side.

But the deeper they went underground, the narrower it got—and the more signs of human (or godly) handiwork popped up.

Torches appeared on the walls, and the ground beneath their feet turned to stone—like stepping into the ruins of some ancient Asgardian palace, now repurposed.

"Looks like Olympus still has guards posted here. No clue how they'll handle Hecate, though."

Su Ming took point, gripping his massive sword like Thor with Mjölnir, staying on high alert.

They reached a set of doors adorned with a Medusa relief—like something straight out of a Wonder Woman rogue gallery.

Donna wasn't thrilled about that carving. Even with her divine gear, no one liked facing Medusa. One wrong glance, and you're a statue—bad news for anyone who fights with their eyes.

Su Ming didn't care. The Greek gods loved their labyrinths—whether they'd stashed Medusa, a Minotaur, a Manticore, or a Hydra behind that door, he had a plan. He'd faced worse than Doctor Strange's rogues.

Guarding an ancient seal with a monster? Pretty standard superhero fare.

But what waited behind the door wasn't what they expected. Instead, they found a female warrior clad head-to-toe in golden armor.

She stood with one foot on a monster's corpse, shield in one hand, spear in the other—like Captain America meets Wonder Woman's aesthetic.

Her full-coverage golden helmet gleamed, her long metallic war skirt scraped the ground, and beneath the armor was a white dress.

Under the flickering torchlight, she glowed like she was channeling the Phoenix Force.

In the Greek pantheon, only one woman rocked this look and wielded a spear-and-shield combo like a pro.

"Goddess Athena, why are you here?"

Donna gaped at the woman, identifying her instantly. She stepped closer to say hi, glancing at the monster corpse on the floor.

Stationing a monster here as a guard was Olympus's way of learning from past mistakes—like when the Justice League let Doomsday loose.

To stop reckless archaeologists from digging up something like the First Born again, they'd built a narrow passage straight to this monster's lair.

Once the beast grew too big, it couldn't leave.

Mythical creatures don't starve—they just sleep. If a mortal wandered in, it'd eat them and go back to napping.

But either it got groggy from sleep or the miasma messed with its head, because when Athena showed up to check things out, the thing attacked her.

Athena, Zeus's eldest daughter, wasn't one to mess with. To her, a mythical beast was just a warm-up—like Hawkeye practicing on some Hydra goons.

She didn't bother taking off her helmet, but a pleasant voice rang out from beneath the golden Greek headgear.

"Olympus got a ping from the Justice League. Hecate's coming for the pillar, and I'm here to stop her."

Su Ming stepped forward, sizing up the monster's corpse. It had three heads—lion, goat, and snake.

A Chimera, straight out of mythology. He hadn't fought it, so no clue how tough it was, but the deep gashes in the stone floor screamed Hulk-level strength.

"Guarding the pantheon? Isn't that Ares' gig?"

Athena let out a light laugh. "If Diana wanted to take on Olympus's burdens, sure, it'd be her job."

But everyone knew Diana—Wonder Woman herself—was done with the gods. She hated her demigod status and wouldn't lift a finger for them.

"I'll handle Diana's work. You can go."

Su Ming stepped aside, gesturing for Athena to head home. He'd deal with Hecate and wrap up protecting Diana for good—though right now, she was safely locked in the Phantom Zone equivalent.

Athena didn't answer. Instead, she tapped her spear against her shield, issuing a Greek-style challenge—like she was daring Deathstroke to throw down.

Clearly, she wasn't leaving.

"I don't know what you worked out with Hera or why Eris is playing nice, but if a mortal wants to woo a goddess, they'd better have power beyond the gods."

Su Ming sighed, sheathing his sword. Who'd want to fight Athena? He'd already said no big explosions—stealth was the game plan.

"Artemis already lost to me—her archery's no match for my gunplay. I didn't negotiate squat with Hera, and Eris is full of it. I've got zero interest in you three 'goddesses.' The so-called gods? Just ancient sorcerers with fancy titles."

Before learning about the "Witch's Mark," he'd thought "goddess" sounded pretty cool.

But once he knew the gods' origins, it was like finding out the princesses were just Zeus's village daughters—Master Zeus's family, draped in bedsheets, immortal and quirky, but still villagers with a bit more culture.

Humans who got powerful and called themselves gods—strip off the gold paint, and it's just mud underneath.

"No interest?" Donna's eyes widened.

"No interest!" Bobo rubbed his chin.

"No interest?" Albera raised an eyebrow.

"..." Athena just charged, her golden spear flashing like a Green Lantern ring.

Su Ming closed his eyes—not to die, but because he had a plan.

"Barry, lend me some juice. I'm sending this naughty goddess to Antarctica—she needs to chill."