Adam's idea was a good one. If he could not defeat the invader head-on, then he would construct a reality in which the invader had already been defeated.
This was a simple application of causality: first create the "effect," and the gems would form the "cause" that led to that result on their own.
But Deathstroke remained calm, allowing the red mist to surround him as though he had given up resisting.
Adam panted heavily as he waited within the crimson fog. He wanted to see a reality where he had won, a reality where he could turn the other man into family and a lover.
However, he was destined to be disappointed.
When the red, granular mist returned to the gem, he was still standing where he had been, and Deathstroke was still floating nearby before him. The owner of that black-and-yellow armor even had the leisure to pick his ear.
"Why are you yelling so loudly? If you've got the guts, call property management!"
"No, no! This isn't real!" Adam clutched his head, rolling through the colorless space. "Why? Why didn't the gods help me? They obviously love me so much."
"Huh? Why? Because you think too highly of yourself."
Deathstroke smiled and shook his head, slowly flying toward Adam with the greatsword in hand. His mask concealed his amiable smile. "Gods love all living beings. In this universe, that is true, but their love is also disorderly, chaotic, free, and equal. They love me just as much as they love you. Maybe your crazy brain cannot grasp that, so let me give you an example. Do you love one bacterium on your left hand more, or one bacterium on your right hand?"
At this moment, the space they occupied had turned stark white, as if a painting