Did Death have that ability?
She did, but not quite in the way Deathstroke had imagined.
She hooked her arm around Deathstroke's, then pulled his soul out of his body. It felt much like entering the Astral Plane.
Strangle could still keep the body standing, and it even retained its combat ability. But Deathstroke, now a translucent figure standing off to the side and watching himself from a third-person perspective, found the sensation rather strange.
Su Ming had originally planned to have Death give him an immortality buff, then go recklessly provoke CCU and let it kill him over and over without succeeding, thereby ruining its sanity and disrupting its logic.
But now he did not even have a physical body. How was he supposed to play this?
The plan needed changing again.
Squirrel Girl leaned closer. She first sniffed Deathstroke's soul, then looked at his face and said while chewing a nut, "Your soul doesn't look anything like your actual body."
She was right. Deathstroke knew that himself.
His soul bore the appearance of his previous life. The difference between Eastern and Western facial features was considerable.
"This is me, all right." Su Ming raised his hand and tried to touch his body, but it passed right through. "Other than still being able to feel Death, I can't interact with three-dimensional objects now."
"Let me try." Little Rich walked over and placed a hand on Deathstroke's thigh. He could touch Uncle Slade, and an I knew it smile appeared on his little face again as he explained, "Your current state is a case of Dimensional Descent, just as I suspected before. Human souls are merely encrypted data. If I lower my own dimension too, I can interact with you."
"Don't talk nonsense, child. Souls are not as simple as