A few seconds later, the four light boxes were neatly arranged on the machine's panel. They were exactly the same size, each fitting perfectly into a recess.
For some reason, they remained lit even after being taken off the wall. The blinking red light gave the brass panel an unusual color, somewhat like dried blood.
There was no movement in the corridor, nor had anything changed in this pipe-filled room, which meant the puzzle-solving was not over yet.
"Eek."
The Symbiotes indicated that they really might be just short of the mark. Red meant stop and green meant go, after all. These blinking red lights did not seem to be the signal for the machine to start.
"Mm. So The One Above All had prepared paint for me long ago, hadn't he?"
He stuck a finger into Black Bean Sprout's mouth and let its sharp teeth bite a small cut into it. Blood flowed from Deathstroke's fingertip, but the red blood quickly turned into glowing rainbow-colored paint before settling into nothing but green.
"Now it's simple. Paint these lights green, and if I'm right, that should solve the riddle."
It was only a guess, but it was worth trying. The only thing that was difficult to understand right now was what exactly the four light boxes were, but that question was not particularly urgent.
Like doing a math problem, sometimes all that mattered was stumbling onto the right answer. The process of solving it was less important.
The paint given by The One Above All—or rather, his blood—was now stored within the Symbiotes, which meant within Deathstroke's body. It could be manipulated freely enough, changing its state and making it fluoresce green was not difficult. Painting, on the other hand, was the hard part.
Come to think of it, perhaps