Hearing that humans were also cursing the Colored Dogs' lackeys, the Black Celestial seemed to be in an even better mood. He voluntarily extended a hand, inviting Squirrel Girl, who had been cracking sunflower seeds on the ground, along with Franklin and Little Guy, onto his palm before placing them on his shoulder as well.
He rose to his feet and looked into the distance.
"You are right, but I do not hate the Colored Dogs. I only pity them. They do not understand the value of emotions, nor do they understand freedom. They are merely puppets carrying out Father's orders, just as we once were."
"So you believe they were merely following orders, which is why you do not blame them?"
Su Ming had heard that all Dark Celestials were insane, but he had not expected some of them to suffer from a savior complex.
"That is the truth. So I merely wish to kill them all. But this has nothing to do with hatred—it is my love for them. I am willing to pay any price to free them from their pitiful destiny."
Speaking such affectionate words, the Black Celestial extended an arm, signaling that Doom and Wanda could land as well and sit on his shoulder. It was a gesture of closeness.
Although he was making such heartwarming gestures, his words took a sharp turn, confirming Deathstroke's intelligence.
The Dark Celestials really were sick. This was a textbook love-murdering psychopath.
Among ordinary humans, people who displayed this tendency were often cannibals as well—the kind who, when they loved someone, wanted to imprison them, kill them, and eat them, merging them into one with themselves.
To such patients, becoming one was the ultimate expression of love.
This Black Celestial was probably similar. If Black Celestials could be dismantled