Although Wade was often full of nonsense, and his brain cancer had left him habitually forgetful, sometimes his perspective on things managed to keep pace with Deathstroke's rhythm.
You could say he was sick or call him crazy, but as a mercenary, as long as he could return alive from mission after mission, he was already considered successful.
The slow-motion footage before them was quickly adjusted back to normal speed by the Adjutant. This was also one of the TVA headquarters' privileges when observing Timelines: they could fast-forward or slow down at will.
In any case, when the dust finally settled around the three fallen figures, facing the camera was the Synthezoid Maria's face—blood streaming from all seven orifices, her eyes wide open in death.
That was right. Her body had been flattened like a pancake, yet her face remained recognizable. Such was the usefulness of high technology.
The pearl necklace around her neck had snapped. After bouncing several times from the tremendous impact of hitting the ground, the pearls rolled a few inches through the pool of blood before slowly coming to a stop.
Iron Man was not in too bad a state. He had only broken a few bones, and his armor was somewhat damaged. Yet he lay in the crater, blankly staring up at the sky, because all he could still see in his mind was that enormous red hand swinging down at them, and the pearls scattering from his mother's necklace.
"Cough, cough."
A faint sound came from beside him, instantly bringing Tony back to his senses. He immediately rolled over and pressed himself against the dirt at the bottom of the crater.
It was Howard. He was not dead yet. Though his entire body had been smashed into something like a rag doll, blood flowed