Concerning the Future

"She's in bad shape."

Hamill approached Illyana. The poor little girl was still pinned to the wall by tentacles. She had lost all response to the outside world, doing nothing but scream and occasionally spew torrents of blood from her mouth.

"How long can you keep Belasco contained?"

Su Ming drew his weapon and dug the girl out of the mass of tentacles on the wall. He could take her out of the cell, but he could not lay her flat. She might choke to death on her own blood.

Ciri did not like this place. In the maze-like black corridors outside the cells, they were frequently attacked by all sorts of tentacled monsters.

Only today had this world revealed its true face to her. Beneath its polished, tranquil surface lay secrets and darkness far beyond anything she had imagined.

She led the way at the front, while Su Ming carried Magik in the middle. Hamill brought up the rear, drawing a weapon from his sleeve as well—a standard Kamar-Taj mage's tool, a short baton-like Living Tribunal Staff.

"No magic. Ever."

Upon hearing Deathstroke's question, Master Hamir answered as calmly as ever. Before Belasco's chaotic mind remembered how to use magic, he definitely would not be getting out.

After all, while in free fall, there was no way to perform a ritual and seek help from the Elder Gods. A brute who could not fly, thrown into a looping dimensional space, had no choice but to keep falling.

But the little girl in Deathstroke's arms—her body, especially her internal organs—had already been sixty percent transformed into demonic flesh. Bloodstone's power was too great; the transformation was nearly irreversible.

If this continued, she would complete the transformation amid her mental delirium and become a mindless beast of a monster.

Removing Bloodstone