The dark tyrant was not dead yet, though he was close. He could no longer move, only make faint sounds.
As he weakened, the world began to lose its color. Apart from the outsiders, all that remained between heaven and earth was gray and white, like a simple pencil sketch on paper.
The New God's lips moved. He slowly turned his head, trying to look at the human behind him, but to guard against a final desperate strike, Su Ming withdrew the Tenth Metal skeleton without allowing Strangle to loosen its hold.
"Don't move, old uncle. You've already lost." Deathstroke patted the burly man's shoulder, his voice carrying a trace of regret. "Things shouldn't have turned out this way. If you'd just stayed in Sepulk and played mahjong with me, who could have done anything to you?"
"Heh, easy for you to say, mortal." Uxas gave up on turning his head. His pitch-black eyes looked up at the sky, at this pale world. "I was merely trying to preserve our multiverse in my own way. You do not know the future."
"No, I do. You just think I don't." Su Ming cut him off, took out a cigarette and placed it between the dying man's lips, lighting it for him with Cosmic Energy. "In fact, if you hadn't kept getting in my way, I might have long since prepared for the Hand of the Void, The Void, The Source, and so on. Even for the External Force—the things beyond the Fourth Wall you want to talk about—I have preparations."
The New God paused slightly at that, but quickly stopped dwelling on it.
"Is that so? Fine, then. The outcome between us merely proves that the path you chose was stronger than mine. But do not expect a New God to