The towering figure on the throne rose, slowly lifting his thick arms as though he intended to embrace the entire world.
The white hooded cloak completely concealed his face. Only two points of white light flickered within the darkness beneath the hood, like the glaring glow spilling from a blazing furnace, making it impossible to see what patterns might be etched upon it.
Su Ming gestured for Cloak to grow larger, ready to block any Omega Beams that might come. Raven and Harley were not particularly afraid of them, but Bobo was different.
He adjusted his breathing and held his swords horizontally before his chest with both hands, ready to see what the other side intended to do.
If he wanted to trade blows, Su Ming would oblige him. But if he wished to negotiate rather than draw the attention of the "master of the house," they could discuss terms as well.
The figure raised both arms to shoulder height, then bent his elbows and continued lifting his hands.
The hooded man assumed a textbook surrender pose.
Su Ming tilted his head, then sighed. "Not Darkseid. He feels very similar, but he definitely isn't."
This was not the Cosmic Tyrant's style. Surrendering without saying a word felt as though it had all been arranged beforehand.
"I am indeed not Father. He has already left." The hooded man kept his hands raised as he slowly descended the steps. His voice was deep and resonant, and his English carried a London accent.
"Orion?"
Bobo, hiding behind Cloak like an actor peeking from behind a stage curtain, stuck his monkey head out from the fabric and blinked.
At the guess, the figure's footsteps paused. As though Bobo had struck upon some secret concern, he looked distinctly unnatural.
Before he could answer, Deathstroke dismissed