Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 492: Fooling Even Batman

Even Batman’s pupils shrank at the sight of the array of colorful rings on Deathstroke’s hand.

He finally understood Harley and Ivy’s role. He’d focused on their combat abilities as villains, overlooking their true professions.

Gotham’s top psychologist and plant biochemist.

Their skills, combined with Deathstroke’s mindset and physical prowess, meant he could manipulate any known or unknown emotional spectrum.

Batman was puzzled. Why would Deathstroke reveal the rings to him?

Deathstroke had to know this would spike Batman’s suspicion, potentially landing him on the Justice League’s "Multiversal Catastrophe Threat" list.

Yet he did it. Why?

Bragging or a whim? Impossible for Deathstroke. He had a grander scheme.

One or two rings? Batman wouldn’t care. He could swipe Hal’s ring and leave him flat on his ass in a second.

He’d had chances to wear rings but refused them.

He wouldn’t serve cosmic warlords. Batman existed for humanity.

But ten rings?

In Batman’s view, the full spectrum was a pinnacle of Multiversal power, especially with the enigmatic White, Black, and Invisible Light rings.

What was Deathstroke plotting?

So when Deathstroke waggled his ten-ringed fingers, Batman stayed silent for a moment.

"Earth doesn’t need a god among men."

Not even Clark, his closest ally, would Batman allow to become a god.

People deserved the freedom to choose their lives, not to kneel to power or superhumans.

"Hm? Who’s trying to be a god? Superman? If you want me to take him out, it’ll cost you big." Su Ming glanced down, casually wiping dirt off his orange ring.

"Enough riddles. You know what I mean," Batman said coldly.

"Why so serious, Batman? Heh, I’ll give you a choice right now."

Su Ming slung an arm around Batman’s shoulders, gesturing grandly as if pointing to an invisible tidal power plant.

"Listen up! A Gotham subway starts with fifty passengers: thirty men, twenty women. At the first stop, three women and three baby girls board; five old ladies get off. Second stop, four burly guys and four drag queens board; the disguised Bat-family gets off. Third stop, they return, nabbing Penguin. No one else leaves. Before the fourth stop, Penguin jumps out a window..."

Batman: "..."

Why did this sound familiar?

Su Ming kept talking, listing Batman’s acquaintances boarding or leaving at each stop. The names sparked reactions.

Though stone-faced, Batman’s heart rate shifted under Su Ming’s arm.

Especially at Catwoman’s name, Batman hesitated.

"Alright, here’s the question: at the twenty-seventh stop, what color is the driver’s uniform?"

Batman: "..."

He’d been wrong. This wasn’t a riddle—it was a bad joke.

"Your question and answer have no connection," Batman finally grumbled, still expressionless but unable to resist. "It’s illogical."

"Heh, like your suspicions about me. I’m the driver, the rings are passengers. No matter who gets on or off, does the driver change? Your distrust is just as illogical."

"..."

Su Ming patted him. "Humans are the core. How much power one carries is like passengers or cargo on life’s journey—gains and losses. You see someone with a crowded train and assume the driver’s unstable or the train’s faulty."

Convincing Batman required finesse. Fooling him like Barry was impossible.

With this black-clad paranoiac, you had to grab his attention, throw out examples or data, then drown him in Jungian psychology.

Freud and Jung, psychology giants, split over differing theories.

Freud saw humans as animals driven by sexual impulses, personality fixed by childhood, unchangeable in adulthood.

Thwarted childhood impulses led to madness.

Jung believed humans had noble qualities, their personalities shaped by adult hopes and ideals.

Jung argued mental issues stemmed from the present, not the past.

Per Jung, "stagnation" caused neurosis—when people stopped growing psychologically with age.

Stagnation often came from dodging life’s "burdens."

Batman was stuck in the moment his parents died.

But had he changed?

Joining the Justice League shifted him slightly. He’d started sharing plans with teammates.

Since taking in his first Robin, he’d been healing—agonizingly slowly.

To those around him daily, the change was invisible.

Every day, Batman arrived and left stone-faced.

But to an outsider like Su Ming, profiling showed it clearly.

He once saw only Gotham as his turf. Now, he treated the Hall of Justice the same—rigging shields, traps, and gear.

Just for fun?

Territorial instinct. Others didn’t see it, not even Batman, but Deathstroke did. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The Hall was collective territory. Though he’d deny it, Batman’s attitude was opening, trying to understand those who called him friend.

But his understanding came with wariness, born of deep insecurity.

Batman needed distance. Close proximity to power triggered his instincts.

Su Ming deliberately breached that distance, pointing questions at Batman’s core—a body-language psych trick to force him to face the issue.

He had his own plans and couldn’t let the League become a hurdle. Might as well treat Batman’s neurosis while he was at it.

Habit breeds familiarity. With Su Ming’s new power, he’d keep flaunting it until Batman grew numb.

Familiarity dulled vigilance—human nature.

Next, he’d showcase the ten rings’ power, giving Batman a concrete sense of it.

Seeing it firsthand would ground his perception, preventing him from amplifying fear through self-hypnosis.

Plan set, Su Ming, ignoring Arthur’s desperate looks, bombarded Batman with jargon he couldn’t follow.

Stuff about the self not being the self, the dream-self being true, time stagnation, transcendence, consciousness, external drives...

Arthur thought: The Kraken’s falling! Can’t you talk later?!

"Light blue. All Gotham subway staff wear light blue uniforms on duty."

Batman took deep breaths, answering the riddle. It seemed to dodge the point but showed he acknowledged Su Ming’s logic.

He’d never admit it aloud, though. Hmph.

"You see clearly enough. Except for some outliers, no driver runs an overloaded train recklessly."

Su Ming dropped his arm, pointing at the Kraken—a consequence of wielding unbearable power, like deploying an uncontrollable weapon.

Batman stared, expressionless. This Deathstroke was nothing like the main world’s. Since when did he moonlight as a shrink? Two days with Harley?

For now, he conceded Su Ming’s point but wouldn’t relax. He’d keep watching.

Unchecked power was dangerous. Even trains needed dispatchers.

Batman began considering Deathstroke joining the League. Noticing him staring at Diana’s legs, he hatched a plan.

"If the Kraken touches the sea, it’s over. We’ve wasted too much time."

Batman addressed Deathstroke. Their allies were sweating bullets, while they stood on the deck, catching the breeze.

"Yeah, your fault, wasting my time." Su Ming shot Batman a look. If not for his sudden hostility, who’d bother with this chatter?

Just pay up, client.

"..." Batman stepped back, signaling Deathstroke to act fast.

"The Anti-Life Equation’s overrated. Only self-styled gods bother with multiplication and division. Mercs like me stick to addition."

Su Ming raised his hands, channeling energy through his bones into the rings.

Will + Rage + Fear + Greed + Hope + Love + Compassion + Life + Death + Repentance + Creation Metal = ???

Su Ming didn’t know what this power was. It surpassed the White Lantern’s existence and the Black Lantern’s death—a conceptual force.

The Kraken’s annihilation, death, and destruction? Su Ming held the opposite, amplified by X-Metal.

Interlocking his fingers, aligning the ten rings in a jagged arc, he aimed at the Kraken.

As a massive beam of ten colors shot from his hands, striking the beast, clarity hit him.

This power didn’t belong inside the Source Wall. It was for creating worlds—the primal "Zero," a vague concept from chaos.

Batman’s "Transcendence" didn’t clash with Luthor’s "Destruction." The conflicting "Creation" was in Su Ming’s hands.