The reception room was very quiet. Everyone waited to hear the sound. As for when Luthor would send out a second cry for help, no one could say. But the first had been heard in the Dreaming, while Deathstroke, located in the Main Dimension, had not heard it. That meant the place where he was currently trapped had some connection to dreams.
So rather than running around everywhere looking for clues, it was better to wait in Dream's castle. There was food and drink, and they were safe from wind and rain. Wasn't that much better?
Thus, for the next stretch of time, the group fell silent. Only the occasional clink of teacups against trays could be heard, as faint as droplets tapping against the crown of one's head.
Meanwhile, on Earth Prime within Multiverse 1, in a rural Kansas town, a basement that had once been neat and tidy had now become a pigsty.
Deadpool, dressed in a red-and-black uniform, looked like a man but was actually a filthy pig.
"Wait! Why is the narrator personally attacking me? Who are you calling a filthy pig?"
Wade's face, like rotting cow dung mixed with spoiled durian, scrunched up. He sprang from his chair, waved a fist at the sky, and shouted himself hoarse:
"I'm telling you, that's slander! You're slandering me! A handsome guy like me isn't dirty if he doesn't clean up. It's called being free-spirited by nature."
He seemed to have forgotten how to pronounce the word "slander," so he made up his own version. But he had not even finished elementary school, and his brain cancer had caused memory loss. Wasn't it perfectly normal for his speech to reveal his lack of education?
"Tch, I'm not talking to you anymore. I've realized you're just jealous of my