Crack!

  A sharp snap echoed through the rainy night—maybe a power line torn loose by the wind, maybe rainwater short-circuiting a transformer. Whatever it was, it snuffed out the neon Wayne Enterprises sign above their heads in a sudden shower of sparks and a wisp of smoke.

  The smoke quickly dispersed into the downpour. Neither of them spoke. They simply looked up at the now-darkened billboard.

  The world around them dimmed. Only the glowing tips of their cigars still fred faintly in the gloom.

  After a pause, Su Ming broke the silence. “I’m from a parallel universe. What the hell’s going on in Gotham?”

  The woman beside him—another Deathstroke—deserved to know that much. In this line of work, information wasn’t something you gave away freely, but when it came to someone like her, it was safe. She wouldn’t sell out a secret unless it directly served a contract.

  Just like Batman—who kept files on every hero’s weaknesses, in case any of them ever went rogue. Strategic intel was a kind of currency. Su Ming was using this to prove he came in peace. Besides, unless someone paid her to kill him, he was retively safe.

  Deathstroke and Batman knew each other’s true identities. But because of the unwritten rules they followed, Batman wouldn’t make a move without hard evidence of a crime—and Deathstroke was a professional. He didn’t leave evidence.

  Likewise, Deathstroke wouldn’t touch Bruce Wayne—not because he couldn’t, but because Bruce’s head was worth billions, and Su Ming wasn’t about to burn a lottery ticket. Maybe one day that jackpot would pay off.

  Same with the Joker. He knew Batman’s real name too. But he didn’t care about Bruce Wayne. He just wanted to py with the Bat.

  That didn’t stop him from kidnapping Bruce’s loved ones—Alfred, ex-girlfriends, you name it—just to drag Batman out for another game.

  A bunch of Gotham’s vilins knew the truth: Bck Mask, Hush, Bane... but they didn’t come after Bruce Wayne. No. In Gotham, the Bat was the symbol of power. Beating Batman meant ruling Gotham. Beating a billionaire in a tux just made you a petty criminal.

  Deathstroke thrived in the shadows of society—but he still needed society to exist.

  Anyone who tried to destroy the world, or who broke the rules of the underworld, became his enemy.

  Every time some alien warlord tried to invade Earth in the comics, chaos followed. Looters would hit banks and jewelry stores. Even civilians would break windows to swipe TVs, knowing the heroes were distracted.

  But not Deathstroke.

  Hell, there were times he’d even stepped in and helped the heroes drive the invaders back. For free.

  Then, once the crisis passed and peace returned, he went right back to business. And if any hero got in his way? Well, too bad.

  “Hmph. I figured as much,” the other Deathstroke—Cindy—murmured around her cigar. The rain drowned out most sound, but Su Ming heard her perfectly. “You’ve got skills. But I’ve never heard of someone like you.”

  “You’ve met other people from parallel worlds?”

  They stood side by side, eyes locked on the faint, flickering Bat-Signal warping across the stormclouds.

  “Just one. Sad guy. Wore a cloth mask like some washed-up bank robber. Used old-fashioned guns. He was old, sick. But he came to kill.”

  Cindy’s voice stayed ft. Even when she said the word sad, her face showed nothing.

  “Did he say why he came here? Or how he left?”

  Su Ming had to ask. As much as he hated to admit it, he wanted to go back. His old world was boring, sure—but at least it was stable. No alien invasions. No psychotic gods in spandex. Just peace. A pce to rest.

  “He said a crime syndicate called the Syndicate killed his kid. When they jumped between worlds, he hitched a ride. Wanted revenge. Didn’t get it. The Amazon Parliament took care of them fast. Centralized authority, overwhelming power—they shut it down hard. Closed the portal. Sent everyone home.”

  “You mean... the Justice League kicked them out?” Su Ming’s brow furrowed. “Wait—do you have a Justice League here?”

  He had to ask.

  Before his jump, DC had just unched the Dark Nights: Metal event. If there was no Justice League here, it meant this world belonged to the Dark Multiverse—a warped reflection of the normal multiverse.

  A pce born of nightmares.

  If this was Earth-11, it might be fine. He could keep a low profile, stay off the Amazons’ radar, make money. Live.

  But if this was negative Earth-11?

  That would be a whole different nightmare. No heroes. Just Batwoman and a horde of vilins.

  A world on the brink.

  Eventually, it would drown in war—Batwoman versus Atntis. Only one would survive. And it wouldn’t be a hero.

  It would be Drowned.

  The war had started over, ironically, the Bat. Batwoman, real name Bryce Wayne, believed Queen Arthur of Atntis was a threat. Ambitious. Dangerous. So she tried to capture her, send her to Arkham.

  The Atnteans struck first—ambushing the waters near Themyscira under the guise of peace talks. Bryce retaliated. She wasn’t trained for underwater combat and killed Arthur by mistake.

  Atntis wiped out Gotham in revenge.

  Everyone Bryce loved—gone. She snapped.

  Modified her body. Learned to breathe underwater. Control the seas. Swim like a missile.

  She became something else.

  She became Drowned.

  In the comics, she won the final war by unleashing her monstrous pet, Dead Water, a creature she could endlessly duplicate.

  But by then, there was no one left. Earth was dead. She lit a Bat-Signal beneath the waves—a final flicker of light from a ruined world.

  She wasn’t Batwoman anymore. She was the monster that destroyed everything.

  And one day, she would join the Dark Knights—recruited by the Batman Who Laughs—to destroy the bright multiverse.

  “Justice League?” Cindy scoffed. “Sounds more like a punk band. We’ve got the Amazons breathing down our necks already. No one’s got time to py superhero groupie.”

  Su Ming gave a bitter smile. Yeah. He’d hoped, but he wasn’t surprised.

  He was in Gotham—the first city to drown. His body was enhanced, sure. But when the nd’s gone, the sky’s bck, there’s no food, no clean water... superhuman or not, he’d still die.

  He needed to act fast. Find a way out. Or stop this apocalypse before it began.

  Please let this world still have time left, he thought grimly, flicking ash off his cigar.

  “Why are you here, anyway?” he asked. “Wayne Tower’s rooftop seems... specific.”

  Cindy mimicked his motion, flicking her cigar. “A job.”

  “Care to share?”

  “You know the rules. I’m Deathstroke. I don’t do team-ups.”

  She swept rain from her hair. The big W behind them didn’t offer much cover. Maybe if it was a giant golden M, they’d have better luck.

  Su Ming chuckled, locking eyes with her—both of them down one, but sharp as ever.

  “Maybe not often. But if I recall correctly, you’ve made exceptions.”

  That memory came from the comics. From another Deathstroke. Another universe. But Cindy’s lip twitched—Su Ming couldn’t tell if it was a smile or a snarl.

  “Fine. Just this once. I’m low on leads anyway. But you only get a quarter. Got it?”

  “Keep the cash. I’m after information.”

  Su Ming extended his hand. A gesture. A joke. He knew he wouldn’t be here long. This was the Dark Multiverse. A pce where the end had already begun.

  He needed to get out. Back to the light.

  She gripped his hand firmly. No hesitation.

  “The job’s a retrieval. Well, more of a message drop. Not my usual thing, but gigs are scarce. And I did just buy a yacht...”

  She turned toward the city, bathed in rain and shadow.

  “It’s from an old friend of mine.”

  “The Joker.”

  Su Ming followed her gaze. If she was here looking for Batwoman, there was only one person in Gotham who’d want that badly enough.

  “In your world, maybe. Here, we call her Jester. But yeah, we know who we’re talking about.”

  Cindy rolled her neck, exhaling smoke that dissolved in the rain.

  “Bats has gone missing. She’s lonely. Wants her favorite toy back.”

  “She cooking up something new? Or... maybe something I’ve already seen.”

  Su Ming took a long drag, wondering if the clues matched any storyline he knew. But this was negative Earth-11. Uncharted territory.

  “Hell if I know. I don’t care what tricks she’s got. I just want to finish the job. Find the Bat. Tell her Jester’s waiting at Arkham. Says she’s got a big surprise. A very big surprise.”

  She ground her cigar out on the wall and tucked the rest away.

  “Verbatim?” Su Ming raised a brow.

  “Word for word. ‘A big, big surprise.’ I’m a mercenary, not a poet. I deliver the message.”

  Cindy shrugged, face bnk.

  “Honestly, I hate working for Jester. She’s nuts. For all I know, her big surprise is a city-killing nuke.”

  Su Ming sighed. Joker money was still money, but the missions always came with strings—and body counts.

  Cindy donned her helmet, locking it into pce. “I’ve checked her usual haunts—Wayne Manor, the Batcave, GCPD’s rooftop. No luck. Now we can cross the tower off too.”

  “She used to love standing up here,” Su Ming murmured. “Watching her city from those gargoyles.”

  “Yeah, and then I found you. Not my luckiest day.”

  She picked up a short baton and tossed one to Su Ming before grabbing her own.

  He colpsed his into staff mode and slotted it into the sheath on his back, rolling his neck to test movement.

  “Definitely not mine either. One second I was in my own world, doing my own thing. Next second—bam! Here I am.”

  “Well, sounds like you’re even more screwed than I am. Maybe save up and hire me to find you a way home.”

  Cindy led the way down, quick and confident.

  “Tempting idea. But right now, I need to confirm what the Jester’s really up to. If it’s what I think... we’re both in serious trouble.”

  Su Ming followed her into the stairwell.

  “Oh? Something I don’t know about?” Her voice echoed inside the helmet, low and amused.

  “It’s not about the mission. It’s about this world.”

  The rain kept falling. Gotham kept sinking. And the Bat was still missing.

  For Su Ming, this wasn’t just another dark timeline.

  It was the beginning of the end. And he wasn’t ready to die.

  Not yet.