What Rao? What cosmic war? It had all been nothing more than a more advanced Illusion Magic.
Once the dizzying sensation passed, he heard his teammates' cries, the roar of seawater pouring in, and the wheezing, leaking breaths of human lungs critically damaged at the brink of death.
Su Ming still wore the black-and-red House of Zod armor, but the person hooked in his arms wore black-and-yellow gear. That person was gripping another dagger tightly, yet no longer had the strength to stab him with it.
Calmly taking the dagger from the other man's hand and glancing at the pitch-black poison on it, Su Ming had Strangle reattach the half of his tongue in his mouth, then smiled and said:
"Looks like I won after all, other me."
Yes, the one sprawled nearby, his body being rapidly corroded by Tears of Extinction, was the other Deathstroke Su Ming had been searching for all along. Not long ago, he had even given this other self a warm name: Old Six.
He was formidable, perhaps the most dangerous enemy Su Ming had ever encountered. His potential threat exceeded even The Batman Who Laughs and Darkseid, because what this Deathstroke wanted was to replace Su Ming himself.
But Old Six was nearly dead now. Given the state of his body after using magic for so long, he had no chance of resisting Tears of Extinction.
Magic could alter many things, but dark arts that demanded souls and lives as their price had never been something that could save their user's own life.
That was the most ironic part. With powerful magic, one could save countless people and reshape heaven and earth, yet when that day came, magic could not save the caster alone.
That was the final price few spoke of, yet no