The ruined spaceship had little worth seeing. Most of its corridors were damaged, covered in fascia made of flesh and blood. Tentacles writhed through breaks in the steel, while mouths continuously let out laughter or meaningless babbling.
The built-in "surround-sound system" alone was enough to drive anyone weak-willed insane.
Doom and Su Ming remained unaffected. They strolled through the flesh, calmly searching for Mar-Vell's former bedroom.
There were no footprints on the carpet of flesh covering the floor, but that did not matter. Strangle could smell the scent Luthor had left behind—the scent of a Martian-Earthling Hybrid, with a hint of high-end cologne.
Batwoman had no scent at all. She did not even seem like a living creature. Superman had no body odor either, but he always gave off a warm impression, as though he smelled of sunlight.
Luthor was different. He did not merely enjoy cigars and alcohol; he waxed his bald head, sprayed himself with perfume, and took meticulous care of his appearance. He was more like a human being.
Though the surrounding odors were equally complex, once the smell of blood and viscous fluids was filtered out, the remaining scent was strangely pure.
Thus, the two quickly reached a bedroom with its door standing open. Inside, they found a golden bathtub filled with blood plasma, along with several luxurious full-length mirrors.
Doom knew what Deathstroke was looking for—a list, or something like communication records. Without needing a reminder, he got to work.
Meanwhile, wearing the Infinity Gauntlet, Su Ming walked up to one of the mirrors. Like he was looking into a still pool of Dead Water, he stared into the world within the reflection.
In the mirror was a skeleton dressed in purple robes. Though it had no flesh, its gaping jawbone seemed to be screaming.