Ghost Wall

The closer they got to the battlefield, the worse the visibility became. Smoke and dust filled every street, while huge amounts of ash and shattered masonry rolled like tides with every movement of the Variant.

Zheng Xian could no longer speak. He even had to hold his breath—if he opened his mouth, it would be full of sand.

Su Ming, however, was unaffected. Listening to rubble scrape across his armor, he still flew low over the ground as swiftly as an arrow.

Zheng Xian clung tightly to a corner of his Cloak, only to realize it felt as though the Cloak was holding onto him instead. It was a strange sensation.

But that was not the strangest part. During the flight, he discovered that Deathstroke was humming an eerie song in a hoarse voice.

"If broken, then broken. Why seek perfection? Only by letting myself go can I soar high."

Zheng Xian found it baffling. They were practically skimming the ground—how was that soaring high?

In truth, Su Ming had suddenly found the Variant's movements familiar. When it stomped on Holy Shield soldiers, its motions resembled grinding out a cigarette butt, which made him instinctively think of that song.

Perhaps it had stepped on too many people, and the sticky mess clinging to its soles felt uncomfortable. The Celestial Variant was constantly rubbing its feet against the ground.

That was also why Su Ming had chosen to enter its body through the heel.

Celestials had no necks. Their heads connected directly to their torsos, like a bucket set atop a round pedestal. Unless it bent over, it could not see its own heels.

This was a blind spot in its vision. Moreover, when it raised one foot to stomp on soldiers, the other foot could not leave the ground. That