A fresh contract—decent enough.
But Batman telling him to watch out? Odd.
He knew Su Ming's strength—well, some of it. Caution anyway meant something big went down.
Like a hero on Deathstroke's level biting it, in Batman's eyes.
Su Ming's intel was spotty. He'd been off the grid, chilling for hours—what'd he miss?
"Alfred, can you dig into recent Justice League action?" Su Ming paused mid-stride to the ship, doubling back to the Brother Eye console. Place patched up fast.
"This computer syncs with the Hall's, but I need a password," Alfred said, hands tied.
Su Ming tilted his head. Password…
Core League was Superman, Diana, Batman—couldn't be just Bruce's call.
Something tying all three.
Their common thread?
"Try 'justice,'" he tossed out. Human-set passwords had logic—guessable.
"Nope," Alfred typed. Wrong.
Good thing this was Batman's backdoor—brute-forcing here wouldn't ping the Hall.
Bruce was swamped. Unless he checked, he'd miss it. If he did? Alfred's mess.
"Hm… 'uphold justice,'" Su Ming guessed again.
Alfred added a verb and flavor—still no dice.
"Tricky. Try 'transcendence,'" Su Ming said, arms crossed, hooked now.
Strike three.
"Interesting," he muttered, dialing in. Not those shared ideals…
Then it hit—their mutual mom fixation.
Su Ming sighed. This password was Batman torturing him.
"You're not making me say that name, Alfred. You know what your boy craves."
Alfred nodded, catching it, a quiet sigh escaping.
He keyed in "Martha." Access granted—League files open to Deathstroke.
No time for mushy stuff. No one could bring back Bruce's mom—not Su Ming either.
He skipped the fluff, scanning last night's logs.
Then he saw it: Diana and Aquaman chomped by a sea monster. Firestorm fish-ified.
"Damn it!"
He'd just pitied Bruce—now Diana, who he'd busted his ass to save, was gone?
And this note—"MIA"? Ominous as hell! No rescue plan? A monster teleporting them wasn't a red flag?!
Su Ming hadn't cashed in at Olympus yet—Batman lost his VIP charge. What grudge was this?
Now he had another gig: snag Diana back.
Aquaman too, fine—bonus save.
Raid the enemy, decapitate their chain, grab two hostages—seemed en route.
But whatever nabbed Diana and Arthur? He'd better gear up.
Batman had flung most of the League into space—gutsy call.
Su Ming wouldn't have. Knowing Lex was lurking, he'd keep J'onn and Cyborg close.
Global mind control, cosmic boom tubes—gold for this mess.
Gone now.
"Whatever. Look at the mess your boy made—solid hand, played like trash," Su Ming griped to Alfred, who shrugged it off.
"Master Bruce has his plans—might only shine later."
"Say what you want—my plan's not his," Su Ming said, handing the console back, heading to master the ship.
Alfred trailed. "Need a spaceship lesson?"
"You know how?"
"I assisted when the young master tuned it, so…"
Su Ming mused—kidnap Alfred?
Nah. Dragging a classy old-timer to war was a young man's game.
His learning curve was sharp anyway. Sticking near Earth, he wouldn't need half the bells and whistles.
Ten minutes later, he had it down.
Couldn't fix it if it broke, though—driving school crash course vibes.
"Tank full?" Su Ming asked from the cockpit. The Batcave roof parted, revealing a hidden launch path in a distant hill.
Alfred, earpiece on, played ground crew. "No fuel—alien energy. Just know it'll fly long."
"Thanks."
Su Ming punched the VTOL ship skyward, vanishing from Alfred's sight.
The manor's shield resealed, reverting to normal. Alfred prepped lunch stuff—Bruce might swing by.
Su Ming hit Wayne Tower's roof first, scooping Harley and Ivy.
The duo looked bored stiff up there. Harley danced around Ivy, who fixated on her plants.
When the cloaked Bat-ship shimmered into view, both jumped.
Harley couldn't buy it, even after Su Ming hauled them aboard.
"You're not really Batman, right? Sus…"
She circled him, inspecting for disguise clues, her clownish head bobbing in his face.
Su Ming shoved it aside—blocking his view.
No traffic up here, sure, but enemies loomed higher.
"Chill. We're grabbing some pals, then smashing alien skulls in space."
"Aliens?" Harley mused, pinching her chin. "Thought God was rinsing us. Aliens, huh."
Su Ming smirked. "Not God—more like aliens cozy with Earth's myths…"
He froze. A thread clicked.
Harley's offhand quip lit up a buried clue.
This was all linked—tied to Genesis.
Day one: God said let there be light. Lex nabbed light—invisible light.
Day two: stars. Multiverse nod.
Joker in Lex's crew—Laughing Bat's head was Lex's prize.
Dionysus-factor carrier—those wounds shouldn't have killed him. Dark Multiverse army incoming fast.
Day three: seas and land split. Lex flipped it—alien aquatics and sea beasts crashing it back together.
Day four: sun and moon. Circe joined the Doom squad.
Upside-Down Man ate magic's concept, but Circe likely snagged Hecate's moon vibe. Just a sun concept shy now.
Day five: animals. Lex might hit the Red next.
Day six: man. Day seven: rest.
How Lex would pull those? No clue.
Su Ming tweaked the comms panel, hailing Batman.
Gotta warn him—Lex's shadow was here. Baldy was aping God—no, was God in his head.
Line connected quick. Batman, multi-core CPU style, juggled global chaos.
Su Ming cut the fat, spilling his breakthrough.
Batman just nodded, flat. "Lex thinking he's God? Old news."
"Why're those two on my ship?"
He cared more about that.
"Hi~ Batsy! Fancy ride—where's the bar?" Harley bounced over, grinning at the screen like she owned it.
Ivy played nicer—Birds of Prey stint taught her manners. Barbara was Batman's old shadow, after all.
"It's my ship now. My plan. Don't pull remote tricks," Su Ming said. Batman brushing off his tip ticked him. No more chit-chat.
Batman squinted. Why was Harley—supposedly under ARGUS's thumb—here?!
Then it hit—Deathstroke faked him out before. Amanda got played.
What a headache. Blink, and this Deathstroke stirred crap.
Bruce rubbed his temples, arm pain dwarfed by the migraine.
"ARGUS."
"My deal with Amanda—your nose stays out," Su Ming lied, stone-faced.
"Oh?"
"Yep. Deathstroke, offline."
He cut the call.
"Tch. World's drowning, and you're grilling me over Harley…"
Su Ming gripped the stick, rubbing his own temple. Priorities, man.
Harley was his Joker trump; Ivy's plants checked Cheetah—tactics.
Whatever. Zatanna first—Upside-Down Man's reign made her reverse-spell magic peak power.
But circling the theater's airspace? Flooded out. Zatanna was a fish.
"Tsk."
Reverse magic zapped at him—Su Ming bailed, back to the ship.
Zatanna woke post-chaos, returned to fix the theater—last night's tentacle stunt trashed it. Stage and seats needed work.
No windows, and wizards mid-task didn't wear comms—voices during chants were death knells.
Cue flood.
She patched walls, not clocking the mutating seawater. Fish-mode engaged.
"Aw, Zatty's a fishy…"
Harley moped at the window, watching fish-Zatanna blast chaotic spells, fading from sight.
She felt for her.
Ivy, cautious, nabbed purple water samples, hitting the ship's mini-lab.
Botany and chem genius—she'd sniff out clues, maybe whip up a fish-reversal serum.
Top mage fish-ified, Su Ming pivoted to option two. Karma's wheel—he'd cashed Batman out, now owed another hired spell-slinger.
At Albedo's office? Empty.
After swatting fishfolk, he found a note on her door:
"Owner's gone to Hell."
Albedo swore off Lucifer's vanishing act but went anyway—classic tsundere.
Water lapped up—Su Ming didn't linger, back to the ship.
"Third pick?" Harley asked, tilting her head. He'd explained mages were key—unknown foes needed full prep.
"Yeah. First, my secretary," Su Ming said, cloaking the ship aloft, prepping comms.