Earth-1610, S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, bridge.
Two one-eyed men stood by the viewport, watching another Earth in the sky.
The sphere gradually vanished amid a flash of white light, like a round laser sticker being peeled off a blackboard.
Earth-X had disappeared. Had they successfully broken through the ceiling of their tier and escaped with their Earth? Or had they failed in the process, leaving not even bones behind?
No one knew, and no one here cared.
The black bald Egghead only knew that his Earth had survived another round, and his backup plan was complete.
"Your backup plan should be ready by now, right?"
No matter how expressionless he was, even if he was a Life-Model Decoy, Deathstroke still asked with a smile, as though he had anticipated it all along.
Fury controlled his body to keep it from trembling and slowed his tone.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Heh, cut it out. I couldn't say for anyone else, but you—Nick Fury of Earth-1610—I know you fairly well."
Chuckling, Deathstroke pulled out a cigarette and lit it in his mouth despite the no-smoking sign on the bridge. The flame briefly illuminated his face in the darkness.
"The hope of survival for the Earth beneath our feet lies in destroying the Earth opposite it, one after another. Would you really allow the only means of transport capable of carrying out that operation to remain in my hands? But you can't take my things or control me, so you probably had someone rush-build your own lightspeed Cosmic Flight craft, right?"
It was actually obvious. Deathstroke was from a Parallel World, and Earth-1610 clearly was not a suitable place to settle down. That meant he would leave sooner or later.
If he left, then without Cloak, the Ultimates would lose their means