Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 459: Cosmic Tides and Tangled Lies

Rachel glared at the two boys, her cloak sprouting a short tendril of shadow that wiggled briefly before she turned toward the ship's main console.

Aquaman and Garth both swallowed hard.

Plenty of people had ticked off Raven before, and they'd all fallen to her tentacle magic. Rachel would use those magical tendrils to bind a guy into all sorts of humiliating poses for public viewing.

A fate worse than death.

"How about we just disband? I'll go back to college, and you can keep scamming food and drinks at the zoo."

Aquaman said to Beast Boy beside him, unable to imagine what Raven might do to them once they got back. Better to bail now.

"I don't need to. If you run, I'll just pin all the blame on you," Garth grinned wickedly, like a true villain. "So go ahead and bolt."

Aquaman sighed helplessly. What was he supposed to do? Run? Stay? Neither worked.

"You've got them spooked," Cyborg said to Raven, fiddling with the unfamiliar machine in front of her. The display was like a basin, made of liquid.

As the ship hummed along, the symbols and patterns on the water's surface rippled constantly.

Maybe the alien fishmen liked it, but to Earthlings, it just made you dizzy.

Raven tugged her hood smugly, peering at the water. "Hmph, who cares? They're all big dummies."

"I can't read this text. Just give me the investigation results," Donna said, glancing over but unable to make sense of the gibberish.

Cyborg fiddled with the device somehow, making the patterns and symbols grow slightly larger.

"I can't either. If Green Lantern were here, his ring could translate this."

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Raven made a face, sticking out her tongue like a hanged ghost. Her translation magic worked on sentient beings, and an alien computer clearly wasn't a valid target.

She was totally useless here. Tech support was Cyborg's role on the team.

"Cracking an unknown language takes tons of text samples and time—conditions we don't have," Cyborg said, pointing at the screen. Her finger dipped into the water, causing ripples. "But look here—a string of shifting numbers. I'm guessing it's something's latitude and longitude on Earth."

"That's your field. I've got no say," Donna replied. Tech stuff? Whatever Cyborg said went.

"So we can take this intel back for Batman to judge, but I can't find an external port on this thing—or if there is one, I don't recognize it."

Cyborg threw up her hands. She couldn't spot anything like a USB. Even Batman's Batmobile had external ports, for crying out loud.

Donna thought for a sec and pulled out her phone.

No signal now, but the camera and video still worked.

She held it over the basin, recording a clip of the shifting numbers.

If these were changing coordinates—maybe a moving object's path—even a short data sample could let Batman deduce their route.

If Batman couldn't, she could always ask Deathstroke.

She pocketed the phone. The Titans hadn't hit their original goal, but finding potentially useful intel wasn't bad.

Then she noticed Rachel and Cyborg staring at her weirdly.

"What? Can't Amazons use phones? My sister does too—it's a human social thing."

Rachel smirked ambiguously, eyes narrowing to slits. "Not that. It's how your thinking's changed. You weren't this sharp before. Tell me, did you pick it up from 'that guy'?"

"Keep talking nonsense, and I'm ignoring you," Donna said, face flushing as she changed the subject. "We've got the intel. Let's bail—back to the Hall of Justice via the Boom Tube."

Just then, a massive spacetime vortex swirled open in the bridge hall. An old man with white hair and beard, red eyes glowing, stepped through.

He gripped a spear of seawater, a charged storm brewing above his head.

He didn't say a word. The second he emerged from the portal, he attacked the Titans.

In mere seconds, he proved his strength.

Whether it was the torrents, storms, or lightning he hurled, the Titans couldn't hold up.

To him, these Earth creatures were like rats in the hold—puny pests.

Or barnacles on his warship's deck, flicked off to drown in the sea.

Pest control was everyone's job on a ship, so here he was—a god deigning to squash a few mortals himself.

Donna raised her shield, but a torrent slammed her into the wall. The impact left a metallic taste in her mouth.

She knew instantly—this guy had power beyond Superman's. A cosmic-level god.

The Titans? Unless Raven lost control, went berserk, or summoned Trigon, they stood no chance.

A cosmic god? Even the Justice League would need to unite against one.

Since Earth's gods had lost their powers, this had to be an alien deity.

Alien gods drew power differently from Earth's—more like the Old Gods, from training or faith, not shortcuts like Earth's pantheon, who stole theirs.

Now Earth's gods were eating the consequences.

To cover Donna, still catching her breath, Cyborg and Beast Boy lunged at the enemy.

Cyborg raised her warhammer high, while Beast Boy shifted into a nimbler werewolf form.

But the enemy just waved a hand. A thunderbolt shot from behind him, blasting a hole in the floor. Cyborg and Beast Boy were flung back, screaming.

The alien sea god swatted the annoying bugs aside and turned on Raven.

Some strange dark energy surged in her— a bomb he had to neutralize first. On Earth, cosmic energy users were called sorcerers, right?

Didn't matter. If the others were roaches, this sorceress was just a scorpion.

All small bugs and critters— the latter's sting just hurt more, and he didn't fancy getting stung.

If they hadn't seized this ship—one carrying the last marine life from the three sea gods' homeworld—Admiral Zhenhai could've sunk it outright.

Outside, he had an entire space fleet.

But the fish onboard had to live. Once Earth's oceans were claimed, the Sea God Triumvirate would let these fish thrive in the new seas.

The Titans guessed wrong. The frozen fish weren't food—they were cryogenically hibernating 'survivors.'

He fired a torrent at Raven, the water around him morphing into spears and arrows.

Raven's defensive magic was always her weak spot. Her mind and soul defenses were top-tier, but physical and magical shields? Just basic barriers.

Against other sorcerers, they might hold. Against a god? Way past their limit.

At the critical moment, Aquaman stepped up, forming a hard-water shield with his hydrokinesis, slowing the enemy's water as best he could.

Even so, his shield cracked like glass under the barrage.

It blocked one hit, but he was no match.

"Run! Donna, get the data to the Justice League!"

Aquaman decided to hold the line. He'd screwed up earlier—now he'd make up for it, even if it meant dying to stall the alien sea god.

"Aquaman!"

Donna didn't want to leave. No way an Amazon retreats while an Atlantean covers.

"Donna, you're the Titans' leader now. Get them out safe—"

But as Aquaman and Donna spoke, the alien sea god didn't give them a breather. A measly hard-water barrier? Nothing to a water-powered deity.

He didn't even use divine power—just smashed it with a fist.

The shield shattered, and Aquaman, holding it up, was grabbed like a flopping fish, trembling but unable to break free.

Admiral Zhenhai eyed this Earth water-dweller, then slammed him into the floor.

The force punched through the hull. Aquaman was sucked out by the pressure shift, plummeting toward Earth like a meteor.

"No!" everyone screamed.

Aquaman had Atlantean durability and hard-water protection—he'd probably survive. But he was falling toward the sea. Once he hit that water...

The friction of reentry would burn through his shield.

Donna had no time to grab him—or even think. The alien sea god grinned cruelly, cracking his knuckles as he advanced.

He'd found the Titans' weakness. His raw strength was overwhelming—no fancy magic needed. He'd just pound them into pancakes, one by one.

On Blood Reef, Aquaman—Arthur—was being dragged by two fishmen, their alien hands clutching knives and axes, looking for a spot to chop off his head.

He'd seen Black Manta earlier. The alien sea god had stripped some special energy from his body.

They'd pulled the power from Arthur and pumped it into Black Manta.

Black Manta, repping the Legion of Doom, was thrilled with the partnership.

"Such power, Arthur. This is how you've been living?" Black Manta toyed with Arthur, pummeling him like a punching bag.

Arthur still had his Atlantean physique, but his old invulnerability and rapid healing? Gone.

"Why can't I hear the sea anymore? What did you do to me?"

"It's the Life Force—superhuman power the ocean poured into you, a concept. The same power Arian infused into the Godship," Black Manta explained kindly to the soon-dead, popping the prongs on his suit's arm.

Admiral Nuotao, the alien sea goddess, sat on her coral throne, arms crossed, watching Black Manta beat Arthur like a beast tearing into a slave in the Colosseum.

But when Black Manta went for the kill, Nuotao stopped him.

She wanted Arthur to witness Earth's fall, to feel the pain—like she'd felt watching her own planet die.

Black Manta, halted, didn't rush. Arthur was doomed in alien hands. He sneered, kicking Arthur into a pool.

"You've had this strength all along—able to create life, even reach across the multiverse, commanding all oceans. And you just used it to chat with fish? You're such an idiot."