The Golden Underground Palace was not made of gold. That was just its name.
Did abalone risotto always contain abalone? Did sea cucumber noodles always contain sea cucumber? Not necessarily.
Using the sister's status, Su Ming declared that the Inquisition was at work and cleared the crowd. He quickly dug a tunnel into a ventilation shaft, had the sister use her Psionics to disable the surveillance equipment, and led the three of them through the huge steel ducts. After winding their way through, they broke into the underground palace.
Forget gold—there was nothing of value here. Aside from battered machinery, pipes, and cables, there was enough accumulated dust to bury someone alive.
The maze was no problem for Deathstroke. As long as he kept his bearings, he could cut through walls and fly over gaps. The three headed straight for the spot beneath the Throne Room. All they really had to do was follow the main power conduits and cables.
Along the way, they encountered a technician in red. Years without sunlight had left him looking like a ghost, but Su Ming cut him down before he could make a sound.
"We've run into someone. That means we're getting close to the core."
The half-mechanical corpse still spat electrical sparks as Su Ming wiped his greatsword on its red robes.
"I'm starting to believe the Emperor knows we're here. Otherwise, we never could have gotten in. I haven't even encountered a Void Shield." The sister looked a little nervous. By everything she had believed, this was outright heresy.
"A Psionic as powerful as he is probably sensed your Psionics long ago." Su Ming looked up at the ceiling, which resembled that of an abandoned factory. Coils of piping crowded the darkness above. "Still, that's fine. By my calculations, another seven