Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 429: Sacrificed Hero

Su Ming had it figured out—why else would Nabu disapprove?

Because they were both after the same prize—everyone's eyeing the same cake.

Under that golden helmet, Nabu's face was twisted in pain right now.

Clearly, he'd been here first.

Opening the portal? Helping Upside-Down Man? That was all him first.

So how'd it turn out like this?

Watching Deathstroke snag the benefits that should've been his—becoming Upside-Down Man's, the new magic concept's, middleman—felt like a knife in his gut.

The one basking in supreme magic power next to Upside-Down Man should've been him!

He wasn't some amateur like Deathstroke. If he had that one ten-thousandth of all multiversal sorcerers' magic, he could reshape the heavens and earth!

But what'd you do? Swap it all for big fireballs? Stockpiling thousands of fireballs a day—you gonna use 'em all?!

Wasting it—Upside-Down Man is this easy to dupe, and all you came up with was fireballs?

If Su Ming could see Nabu's face right now, he'd probably guess his thoughts.

But mention casters, and Su Ming's brain jumps straight to 'calmly cast fireball'—what's he supposed to do about that?

Plus, with infinite fireballs, he wouldn't need to lug explosives everywhere anymore—pretty cost-effective.

Here in the DC world, Barry's the transport, Batman's the meal ticket.

Opening doors or conjuring water and bread? Useless.

Doctor Fate's a hero, a powerhouse good-guy mage, but the soul of Nabu in that helmet? Not so much.

As an ancient sorcerer—one with a god's name, no less—he'd conspired with Zeus and the gang to lock up Hecate. He was part of 'Prometheus.'

He picked this moment to hijack Doctor Fate's body for a bigger payday.

But his plan went bust—this alternate-world Deathstroke crashed the party.

The Source Wall's breach was a golden opportunity—tons of outside concepts hunting for proxies inside—but he'd scoured countless tomes, spent millennia digging into secrets, just to learn about Upside-Down Man.

Not to mention all the effort to open that portal and bring it in.

And now Deathstroke just plucked the peach?

He couldn't stomach it. Given his tighter bond with Upside-Down Man, he planned to kill Deathstroke and take over the deal.

Anything Deathstroke could do, he could too, right? Guarding Earth? With that power, Earth'd basically be his—he'd protect it naturally.

Upside-Down Man had restored all the universe's magic and was now fiddling with a new system—zero interest in human squabbles.

Nabu tried talking to Upside-Down Man, but it ignored him, just drooling and messing with the air in front of it.

When Nabu turned to Deathstroke, he caught him floating nearby, sneakily signaling somewhere.

Before he could spot who was hiding over there, a horrifying figure popped up in the air.

What kind of monster was this!

Was this Deathstroke's ace? An indescribable Elder God? Damn it, weren't Elder Gods supposed to be extinct?

All thought seemed to flee Nabu, leaving only the terrifying face before him—a rotting, endlessly regenerating monstrosity.

But the Doctor Fate body he controlled reacted with human instinct. Once the Elder God's image hit his brain through his eyes—

He puked on the spot.

Too much, too fast—vomit sprayed out of the golden helmet's eyeholes, like two streams of rainbow tears.

"Heh."

Su Ming smirked, satisfied. Little Cousin's Elder God mode was a real killer.

No matter how slick you are at controlling Doctor Fate's body, it's still human—complete with a stomach.

No way to stop it barfing at that sight.

Even Upside-Down Man froze—magic concepts can't handle that shock either!

"Urp—"

Nabu, dizzy and reeling, crashed from the air, landing in his own puke pile.

"My turn!"

Strike while he's down—Su Ming signaled Barry to blast music through the speakers.

A cacophony of tracks echoed through the underground palace at once—different hidden speakers blaring different songs.

Every single one was heavy metal—crappy practice tracks scrounged online. The worse the playing, the more it fit Su Ming's vibe.

In the circular palace, the sound bounced off walls and back, the sheer volume turning it into brutal noise.

Venom shrank deep into his body the second the speakers kicked on—noise hurts it. Even tucked away, Su Ming felt the sting.

But he could take it—super-soldier basics include shrugging off this kind of pain.

Nabu couldn't, though—it's his fatal flaw.

Su Ming had this prepped ages ago—before leaving the Justice Hall for the Tower of Fate, he'd set this up.

Nabu hadn't shown during later moves—thought Deathstroke would drop his guard?

Fat chance.

He might not cast a single spell, but Ancient One pegged him as her heir for being a mage-killer.

Add in comic intel—he knew loud noise screws with Nabu's link to Doctor Fate. Make it noisy enough, and he can't cast squat.

Who told him to stick his soul in a sealed helmet?

Shaped like a bell, no less—outside noise hits, and it's a boiling pot of resonance inside.

This round palace, built like a concert hall, was perfect for sound projection. To stop Luthor or Nabu from jumping him mid-job—

Su Ming layered traps here. Forget Nabu—if Luthor and his crew popped up now, they'd be toast too.

Nabu wanted double the fun—now it's double the pain, puking and head splitting.

He didn't even know whether to clutch his mouth or ears.

Su Ming wouldn't leave him agonizing over the choice—how cruel would that be?

Nightfall unsheathed, he lopped Nabu's head off without a second thought.

The guy was just rolling in his own vomit—killing a tactically countered foe was easier than slaughtering a chicken.

Counting on Su Ming to yap and give him a comeback? Nah, he prefers chatting with headless corpses.

Of course, decapitation only killed the Doctor Fate body Nabu controlled—Nabu's soul was still in the helmet.

So he slashed the helmet a few more times, stomped it into a gold pancake, and pocketed it—later, he'd chuck it into the sun.

Su Ming moved too fast—Barry couldn't stop him from killing Doctor Fate. By the time he dashed out to intervene, the head was already rolling.

"Why'd you come out? Get back and shut off the gear."

"Ugh—why'd you kill Doctor Fate too? He's a good guy."

Su Ming's eyes flicked, a lie sliding out smooth. "Ugh, Barry, I'm torn up too, but I had to. You know people bitten by zombies? Good as they were, they're not themselves anymore—I did it to set him free."

Barry scratched his head, sensing something off but unable to pin it down, shuffling back to kill the equipment in a daze.

What's off? Doctor Fate wasn't zombie-bit—he was possessed.

Could've just killed Nabu and spared Fate? Maybe, but Su Ming wasn't sure if Nabu could jump hosts.

For safety, Fate had to take one for the team.

Plus, kill Nabu, ditch the gold helmet—no power source left for Doctor Fate. Alive or dead, what's the difference?

As a hero, current Fate Kent would've gladly sacrificed himself to seal a nutcase like Nabu.

Lose his powers and retire, or go out in a blaze of glory taking down a villain?

Su Ming gets these hero types—no thanks needed.

He turned, sheathing his weapon, and walked toward Upside-Down Man, who was dry-heaving off to the side, extending a hand.

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"Deal?"

Upside-Down Man's scales looked whiter. It grabbed Su Ming's hand and shook. "Deal."

Then it melted into the air, bolting from the place like it was fleeing for its life.