"Name?"
Inside the ring of fire outside the palace, a crude Kamar-Taj office had appeared.
Outside the fire ring, Symbiotes were everywhere, biting and fighting each other. They craved one another's genes and energy. Without the restraints of the Black Sword's commands, instinct for evolution controlled them.
Not to mention that these Symbiotes were constantly splitting off spores to reproduce. The planet looked as though it had been infected by xenomorphs. It would take considerable effort to clean it up completely, but Su Ming could not be bothered.
He had Cloak rescue the surviving gods from the chaotic battlefield like a claw machine, then had Monark cast another wall of Faltine's Fire, isolating a large open space before the palace gates.
Then he announced to the rescued gods that they had regained their freedom. Gorr's entire family was dead, and the Sorcerer Supreme from Earth had saved them.
However, if they wanted to leave this enormous pressure-cooker planet, they could purchase Teleportation Portal service. He did not want money, but they had to offer something in exchange.
At that moment, Su Ming had set up a table outside Gorr's home. Stacked atop it was a pile of Magic Contracts witnessed by the Vishanti. One by one, gaunt and sallow-faced gods lined up before him, each paying their price.
They could choose not to pay, of course. They were free to turn left or right once they walked out the door on this planet. They could even jump out of the fire ring and fight the Symbiotes if they wanted.
Did they think a few nice words and a few cries of "hero" would save them? Where did they think they were?
Standing before him now was a round, pudgy "victim," reluctantly purchasing the so-called Kamar-Taj teleportation service. Hearing Deathstroke's question,