Su Ming watched Gorr's eyes rapidly turn red, truly like a rabbit's, and gradually became certain of his guess.
Unlike Gorr from other Parallel Worlds, the Gorr from his own 40K seemed more like a puppet controlled by the Black Sword. Once he entered combat, he lost all self-awareness and handed the fighting over to the Symbiotes. What kind of God Butcher was that?
Perhaps he could grant his teammate's wish.
"Monark, send the mother and son, along with the football team, into the Mirror Dimension."
The Mustache appeared beside Su Ming, surprise on his face. "You mean—"
"Don't make me repeat myself. Are you new at this?" Su Ming swept his greatsword aside, blocking Gorr's slash at Monark. Gorr's nerves had already been stretched tight, and seeing The Mustache suddenly materialize from thin air had merely triggered an instinctive attack.
As Nightfall collided with the Black Sword, a spray of sparks scattered everywhere. Countless tentacles and black threads instantly lunged at their own kind.
They met and devoured each other, sticking together like black asphalt and swiftly wrapping both hosts inside a massive black sphere.
Neither side wanted the aftermath of the battle to leak out, so they made nearly identical choices: use the Symbiotes to enclose the battlefield.
Monark knew this was not the time to talk. He immediately waved his staff, dragging the mother and son into the Mirror Dimension along with the skeletal football team. Deathstroke's meaning was clear: the team was to keep the child company while they waited.
He did not know why Deathstroke had suddenly changed the plan, but he felt this approach was more appropriate, more like something a hero would do.
Enclosed within the Symbiote battlefield, Su Ming could no longer see Monark's expression. He was currently grappling with Gorr, and