Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 495: Joker’s Plan

Luthor, still talking to the Joker, hurried to a lab wall where a hidden storage cabinet held his backup armor.

Placing his hand on the precise spot, palm-scan verified, the cabinet opened.

Inside was chaos. His armor was dismantled, scrawled with "Hahaha" in red paint. A Joker playing card was pinned to the cabinet with a dagger.

"Oh? Found your little treasure chest?" The Joker’s voice came through, timely as ever. "Afraid I got there first, touched everything, hehehe."

"How?" Luthor was incredulous.

"You ate my special dinner last night. Dragged you from your bedroom to the lab to scan that heavily guarded hand of yours." The Joker laughed, Luthor’s shock fueling his glee. "Could’ve chopped it off, but where’s the surprise in that? Heehee."

The Joker fixated on the monitor, clutching the mic, reveling in Luthor’s stunned look. Days of planning paid off.

"Lex, I’m a cultured Joker. I know you too well. We’ve fought side by side, shared highs and lows, blah blah. You think you’ve changed, ditching Kryptonite rays and red sun generators, but you’re still the same old Lex."

Luthor ignored him, inspecting the armor. One arm was salvageable. Rewire a few circuits, connect backup power, and its pulse weapon would work.

He yanked the arm out, hauled it to the workbench, and frantically began repairs with tools.

The Joker, unhurried, mimicked the Queen of England sipping tea, lips pursed, pinky raised, mic in hand.

"You’ll always be Luthor, predictable as ever. Boring. Me? I switch personalities three times before breakfast. Early retirement? Nah, kills the humor."

Luthor grabbed a soldering iron, sparks flying as he worked on the arm.

He finished, donned it. Backup power, voice control, weapons online. Time to catch the Joker.

Opening the lab door, he faced cackling villains. Scarecrow, laughing and muttering "so scary," lunged at him.

"Pulse weapon, non-lethal, max output." Luthor cleared a path with the arm’s blasts.

The intercom carried the Joker’s yawn. "Non-lethal? Lex, you’re so dull."

"I’m saving the energy for you." Luthor sprinted down the corridor. He’d rigged a failsafe at an unassuming room’s door—a hidden control panel, palm-activated.

Slamming his hand on it, the panel lit up. "Computer, override command. Seal the hall, cut oxygen to the main control room."

"Oh no, I’m so scared! Where’d my shoes go?!" The Joker’s voice feigned panic.

Luthor raced toward the control room, ready to nab an oxygen-starved Joker and end him.

But entering the hall to the control room, a heavy metal door slammed shut behind him.

The hall’s lights turned to circus colors—red, yellow, green—flashing as clownish music played. Vents spewed green gas.

The Joker’s voice returned. "Clever, Lex. Escaped my trap, out of danger, huh? Hehe."

"Damn it..."

"You shouldn’t have let me build the interrogation room. I can’t resist turning the whole place into one."

Luthor had assigned the Joker the interrogation room, knowing torture wouldn’t work on the League. It was just to keep him busy.

But the Joker saw through it. Using those resources, he’d turned the base into a circus of death traps.

Traps only he controlled.

He pressed a few buttons, eager to see Luthor dodge flying blades.

Wall seams split, launching spinning sawblades at Luthor.

He dove, blocking one with the armor arm, dodging another.

"Hehe."

Luthor wasn’t a trained fighter. His clumsy dodge amused the Joker.

"You think cornering me will shake me? What’s next, quicksand? Piranha tanks?" Luthor scrambled up, disheveled.

The Joker propped his chin on interlaced fingers. "Good Lex, sometimes the simplest dish tastes best."

Luthor’s brow furrowed—too late.

The ceiling exploded, dropping dozens of grenades. Blasts and shockwaves sent Luthor crashing to the floor.

Half weren’t explosive—most were laughing gas grenades.

Luthor, gasping from the impact, inhaled too much of the Joker’s custom gas.

Hallucinations hit. Everything turned green, his brain recognizing only that color.

The vent gas wasn’t laughing gas—just green smoke. The Joker’s real weapon was in the grenades.

"Lex, you held that fancy Doorknob too long, locked in white dwarf glass, thinking it’d make you a god?"

"Stay away from it, you demon!" Luthor fired blindly at the Joker’s voice in the green fog.

"Too late, Lex. You broke our deal."

The Joker materialized behind Luthor, in his purple suit, clutching the "Destruction" Doorknob.

While Luthor studied the Anti-Monitor, he’d cracked the white dwarf shield and stolen it.

How? Batman used the same material for security, and the Joker knew how to break it.

Gripping the Doorknob, he smashed Luthor’s bald head, blood splattering as Luthor collapsed.

"Time to pay the price."

The Joker bent down, dragging Luthor’s arm like a sack toward the meeting room.

Time passed. Luthor groaned, waking from unconsciousness, blinded by white light, chained and suspended above the round table like a hotpot ingredient.

The Joker and other villains sat around, faces twisted in unnatural grins.

"Attila, Genghis Khan, Al Capone, Luthor—all fell at their peak, tsk tsk," the Joker mocked.

Luthor strained to open his eyes.

"I’ll kill you. I swear, I’ll slice open your brain, burn every nerve, and keep you conscious."

The Joker dug in his ear, smirking. "Keep it up, Lex. Maybe you’ll dream up something scary. Hehehe."

"And these idiots—if I find out who helped you, I’ll—"

"Oh, Lex, don’t be paranoid. My gas makes them docile, loyal to me. But I kept you sharp with a special blend. No need to thank me. By the way..."

The Joker waved, as if granting a favor, urging Luthor to listen.

"You promised us the world, the universe, the power of creation. So, what’s a Multiverse to me?"

The Joker’s eyes burned with questions, demanding an answer.

Luthor: "..."

The Joker didn’t care about the Multiverse. He just wanted fun.

He knew Luthor had no answer—just talk.

"But watching you reach the edge of success, then flipping the table and smashing it in your face? That’s fun."

The Joker laughed, climbing onto the table, adjusting his suit collar, circling Luthor.

"I wanted to see you carefully become a cosmic god, reborn for a second in the ’Destruction’ cathedral. Then, I set death traps for every Legion member—some lethal, some not, letting survivors think they won."

"Then, I teleport the base into the sun, watching everyone burn to ash."

He sighed, pinching his nose.

"This could’ve been legendary, Lex, but you ruined it!"

"For months, I’ve rebuilt Metropolis’s museum as your failure monument. It just needs one final piece for the grand finale."

"I left clues for Batman and the blue Boy Scout to arrive just as the villains explode, seeing your corpse with my smile carved into your brain."

"You ruined it, Lex. Trust me, you could’ve died easier."