Taking out the Nightfall Greatsword, he shaved off a drop of Tenth Metal, pinched it into a thin sheet, and handed it to Ozymandias beside him.
"Will this be enough?"
"Enough." Ozymandias took a golden remote from his belt. It had only a single red button. He pinched the metal disk onto its antenna and explained, "This is a Tachyon Emitter. It can block quantum observation of my future. If it really is still curious, perhaps it will appear again in the form we recognize."
That was the principle. Tachyons were one of Doctor Manhattan's weaknesses—or rather, a weakness of quantum itself.
Quantum was everywhere. If a multiverse, or even Hypertime, was viewed as a complete container, then quantum was the water filling it.
It packed reality to the brim, naturally leaving it no room to move. After all, quantum within a container lost the space to act, and its flow could not exceed External Force.
That was how to break the deadlock. Ozymandias had relied on this point to scheme against Doctor Manhattan back then.
After explaining it to Deathstroke, the man in the purple robe pressed the red button on the remote. No light appeared, nor was there any sound.
Only an invisible energy activated the Tenth Metal disk, creating intangible ripples that swiftly spread outward.
"All right. Cheers, then we wait."
Ozymandias shook the empty glass beside him, signaling Deathstroke to pour another. It had been a long time since he had tasted such flavorful, top-quality wine.
A little wine was nothing worth mentioning. Su Ming refilled both glasses and lightly clinked his against Ozymandias's. At the instant their taste buds detected a trace of sourness, the darkness before them was driven back by an intense blue light.
The snow-white desert beneath the moon had turned completely