Ch.462 Drainage Plan

"He's a god!"

M'gann pressed her temples, unleashing her telepathy. But in Zhenhai's mind, she found nothing but chaos and void.

Instead, a powerful force shoved her psychic probe right back, triggering a nosebleed.

Donna gripped M'gann, sprinting through the wrecked spaceship corridor, the shrieking tide almost audible behind them, the salty stench filling the air.

"That's hardly breaking news."

M'gann faltered for a second. True—seeing Zhenhai pummel Superman earlier had already clued her in on his threat level.

"Fall back fast—get to the Boom Tube and teleport."

"You don't need to tell me that. If you've got time, fly yourself."

The Titans had one perk left: everyone still standing could fly.

Cyborg had her high-tech armor, Beast Boy could turn into birds, Raven had flight magic, and Donna had her divine armor.

Grabbing M'gann was just reflex.

Only now did it sink in.

Too bad Zhenhai spoke English fluently—plus Greek and ancient Atlantean.

He understood every word they said.

Guess being a god meant mastering a few languages came in handy.

Fly? Teleport?

Not on his watch.

Zhenhai, who'd been toying with them, got serious.

He conjured a hard-water barrier ahead of the team—way thicker than Aquaman's, factoring in the walls, sealing everything off.

Now, every path but his was blocked for the Titans.

If Aquaman's shield was glass, Zhenhai's was an iceberg. Given time, the Titans might break through, but a focused Zhenhai clearly wasn't giving them that.

"I'll hold him off—you keep retreating." Raven halted her flight, turning to face the enemy.

She started gathering energy for her strongest spell: calling in backup.

Summoning an interdimensional demon god—her father, Trigon, the one she'd always avoided.

Sure, Trigon's arrival could doom the world too, but only if there was a world left to wreck. Earth was already turning into a water balloon—debts piling up didn't faze her anymore.

In Raven's mind, only Trigon could guaranteed beat this god.

Best case, though? She'd get dragged back to his dimension, tortured, and molded into a demonic weapon.

But she couldn't dwell on that now.

She glanced at her teammates, a tear slipping out, quickly steeling herself. A long incantation spilled from her lips, prepping to open the interdimensional gate.

"DUANG!!!"

But mid-cast, Donna ambushed her from behind, slamming her shield into Raven's head, knocking her out of the air.

No way were the Amazon warriors all dead yet—letting a sorceress cover the rear? Summoning Trigon? That was beyond reckless.

A bad gamble might just mean death—quick and clean.

But falling into Trigon's hands? That was a living hell. Donna wouldn't let her sister face that.

She caught Raven, handed her and her phone to M'gann, and told the others to find a way out fast—she'd stall Zhenhai.

Her strike wasn't as brutal as Deathstroke's, though. Plus, Raven had magical defenses up. Donna just disrupted the spell, dazing her, not knocking her out cold.

"Donna!"

Raven squirmed, but she couldn't outmuscle a Martian.

Beast Boy turned into a giant pangolin, digging at the hard-water barrier with Cyborg. M'gann, clutching Raven and Donna's phone, followed, blasting heat vision to carve a path.

Her heat vision outpaced the other two combined by a mile.

Especially Beast Boy—seriously, turning into a green pangolin and clawing at magic with your paws?

Garth was helpless too. Beyond his belt buckle, he didn't even have a nail clipper.

Pangolin seemed clever to him, at least.

M'gann didn't quip—she just cranked up her heat vision output, racing to break through.

She knew Donna wouldn't budge. Amazons were like that.

Once a warrior decided to cover the team's retreat, arguing was an insult to their honor.

Her job now was getting the Titans out safe—making sure Donna's sacrifice wasn't wasted.

Donna had resolve, sure, but that was subjective. She couldn't will reality to bend.

Facing the sea god with her shield up, his straight punch sent her staggering back dozens of steps, nearly collapsing.

Her shield arm tingled with numbness, a dent forming on the divine metal—forged by Hephaestus himself.

His strength was terrifying—far beyond hers.

No time for tactics, she charged again, using her shield to slow him down.

And got knocked flying again.

A cosmic god hitting when Earth's pantheon was powerless? It felt premeditated.

Donna ached all over, pale skin streaked with blood, but she kept charging, kept getting blasted back.

It looked pointless.

But it wasn't— she'd finally worn out Zhenhai's patience.

A sea beetle—you flick it a few times, watch it tumble and struggle back up, it's amusing.

But no one flicks a bug all day.

Zhenhai drew a weapon: a hard-water spear laced with lightning divine power. This Earth bug relied on her tough shell? He'd shatter it.

Seeing this, Donna knew her unchanging tactic had a flaw he'd spotted. But no choice—she had teammates to protect.

She raised her shield again, praying Hephaestus's craftsmanship held.

"Haha, die!"

Zhenhai swung down, laughing. After a few clashes, he'd gauged her gear's limits—he was sure he'd pierce it.

As Donna gritted her teeth, bracing for the clash, Zhenhai stumbled.

"Bullying my people while I'm gone? Not cool."

A familiar black-and-yellow figure floated into the corridor, black cape billowing, Nightfall Greatsword stabbed into Zhenhai's back.

Su Ming leaned from behind, shouting into Zhenhai's ear.

Turns out, while the League's plans tanked, Su Ming's 'detox' plan worked.

He'd summoned the Upside-Down Man from the seafloor. As a middleman, he just had to chant "Man-Down-Upside" in his head.

After a bit of mantra vibes, the Upside-Down Man showed. Su Ming briefed it on the situation—especially how its assets were at risk—and it happily turned its stored fireball spells into neutral energy.

With the world ending, sorcerers were spamming magic like crazy. Su Ming's cut was hefty.

Activating a magic circle was child's play for the Upside-Down Man, a literal magic concept. It not only helped Nightshade kick off the array but tossed in a big spell, sinking the entire Trench Nation plate to the ocean's depths.

Next step: Su Ming picks a spot in the universe, sets up an array, and drains the water.

The Upside-Down Man had leveled up its smarts—now wearing clothes and pants.

Still loved its contract, though. Like Deathstroke said, it could sit back, count cash from afar.

Daily loan interest kept boosting its power.

So it threw Su Ming some extra intel.

First: the purple seawater turning humans into fishmen was alien magic—not irreversible.

It wasn't the source, but it could offer a counter-spell.

Not for free, though. Any sorcerer casting the cure had to borrow power from it—and it was high-tier magic.

No loan? Watch your pals stay fishmen, munching seaweed!

Steps were simple: dry the fishman off, run a basic exorcism chant, then tack on "Man-Become-Change."

Su Ming suspected the front part was fluff—the reverse phrase was the key.

But more power lent out meant more perks for him. Even if the Upside-Down Man was scamming, he was in on it.

He wasn't some hero—why not pocket the benefits quietly?

Second: it sensed Su Ming spamming artifact detection magic, so it told him straight—enemies were immune to probes or divine tricks. Save your energy.

Luthor and the Legion of Doom had bailed. Where? No clue.

Luthor held the 'Doorknob of Doom,' beyond all rules and concepts—even the Upside-Down Man couldn't track them.

Maybe back when it was outside the Wall, but now it was tied to DC's rules, part of the system.

Finally, it let Su Ming pick a remote cosmic corner and teleported half the team there with its magic.

Made it easy to cross the quarantine zone and set up the drain.

As for Nightshade's cost-of-casting fears, Su Ming sorted that too.

The Upside-Down Man cut a deal: other Earth sorcerers paid within a day; Nightshade got two.

Double the deadline—pretty generous, right?

In return, it had an odd request: it wanted Wade's 'Old God' projection from last time.

Su Ming frowned, puzzled. What was it planning—willpower training?

The thing was useless past its first surprise. Anyone in the know wouldn't fall for it.

Like a one-off street trick—learn the sleight, and the mystery's gone.

Barry had nabbed that gear—it was probably in the Hall of Justice now. Su Ming told it to grab it—spare parts, manual, all yours.

That's how generous he was!

One man and a monster hashed it out in the dark void of space, then the Upside-Down Man vanished.

A concept of magic, it shouldn't exist in reality—yet it was everywhere.

Nightshade finished the teleport array exit, floating over with a weird look.

"Magic circle's set. We really doing this?"

Su Ming raised an eyebrow. Was Nightshade still hung up on the cost? This was the best deal he could snag.

Other sorcerers would kill for it—double repayment time!

Then it clicked: the kid probably didn't know what to offer as payment. Fair—she'd only tapped into this new system last night.

Su Ming patted her head—technically Black Alice's head, since she was still riding Nightshade, but same diff.

"Don't sweat the magic cost. Tell me—do you like rabbits?"