Multiverse: Deathstroke-Chapter 476: Tomb of Arian

Meanwhile, Barry, Superman, and Mera's squad touched down on the flip side of Earth.

The Sahara Desert. freёwebnoѵel.com

"It's around here," Mera said, pointing at a basin ahead to Superman.

Long ago, she'd swung by near here with Arthur. Ancient Atlantean ruins sat about a hundred kilometers off.

"Why's Arian's tomb in a desert? Gurgle."

Barry, half his face already fishified, piped up. Weren't Atlanteans all underwater folk?

Not quite. Ancient Atlantis wasn't a submerged kingdom—not 'til the alien run-in reshaped it.

Back then, tombs and kingdom scraps got scattered under this sandy sprawl.

"Arthur asked that too, but I'm short on time," Mera snapped, mood sour, clock ticking.

It's under the sand—what's to question? The divine signal dragged them here!

Superman tore a cloth scrap, wrapping his blind eye. His good one X-rayed the dunes.

A massive temple—or ruin—lurked beneath.

"Something's down there, Barry."

His powers hadn't bounced back—sewage still gunked his system. With the cell-stored energy he had, he was barely a notch above Mera now.

Once, he'd blow this desert away in one breath. Not today.

Flash was up.

Barry scoped the area, eyeballing a rough zone. He knew he was the only shot.

Fishification would speed up, but no choice now.

"Gimme a few seconds."

He waved Superman and Mera back, then bolted, circling the target, whipping up a tornado.

Like a mega vacuum, it sucked sand straight to the troposphere.

He screeched to a halt beside Superman, panting.

"Barry, you okay?" Superman noticed the fishy spread creeping further across his face.

Barry was wiped—stasis force slipping too.

"I kinda like being human, so before I'm full fish, let's check it out."

A jagged canyon yawned before them—cliff walls, barren rocks, dead vibes.

Weathered Atlantean statues, faint but recognizable, held their old posts.

Lucky this was the world's biggest desert—seawater hadn't fully flooded the underground yet. Plus, ancient wards kept the tomb pristine.

"Let's go."

Mera, antsiest, conjured hard water to lower them from the cliff to the valley floor.

Buried for millennia, the ground gleamed with gilded bricks.

Ancient Atlantis—powerful, rich. Now? Poseidonis scraped by with coral and stone.

Barry snagged a dry branch somewhere, rigging a crude torch. He and Mera needed light to scope the tomb.

But his fish-half was starting to disobey him.

He had to lay it out.

"Superman, if I go full fish—kill me before then."

Speed Force was too dicey. Fishified heroes kept their powers—worst-case scenario.

Other speedsters? Fine. Even Wally, a hair faster, was different.

Wally used Speed Force—Barry made it. Every step birthed it.

If enemies hijacked him, forget another Flashpoint—universe goes poof, reboot.

Lex wouldn't need to lift a finger.

Anything else, Clark would do for Barry. But kill?

"No, Barry—don't give up. There's hope."

Superman's face twisted, avoiding Barry's half-fish mug. It screamed reality's bite.

He fed him a white lie—keep fighting.

But Speed Force, stasis force—it was all Barry's. He knew his body's countdown.

He was toast.

If Superman wouldn't agree, Barry couldn't relax—or they'd all be the universe's doom.

Torch raised, ready to argue, Mera cut in from the front.

"Bad news—the tomb's been opened. Someone beat us here."

Superman peeked. Magic blocked his X-ray inside, but she was right.

A seven-to-eight-meter stone gate hung ajar, a blurry footprint trail etched into the platform, stretching inward.

"No way—I didn't see anyone. I just dug this up," Barry said, baffled, forgetting his kill-me plea.

The puzzle stumped him.

Scientist curse—hit a mystery, gotta crack it.

"Let's move—inside's supposedly Atlantis's mightiest weapon," Mera urged, slipping through the gap.

Even cracked open, the gate let three abreast.

In the cold, dry tomb, wall murals held up—chronicling Arian's history.

But it clashed with Mera's version.

Arian wasn't a hero. He and Poseidon sparked the war.

When alien sea gods rolled up with goodwill, Earth's aquatic crew ambushed them with black goo.

Poseidon's gift to Arian—stuffed in a conch, blasted at the gods.

They didn't die—Poseidon jailed them.

Arian? Poisoned, died a chump.

Murals logged it raw, but Poseidon buried the truth—smashed Atlantis skyward, drowned it in tsunamis.

Most chunks sank; stray bits hit the desert.

Witnesses died off. History morphed into fairy tales.

Not "fear the unknown seas"—but "beware divine betrayal."

Poseidon must've mind-whammied Arian into that madness.

Mera stared at the murals, ancient Atlantean script, speechless.

As Zebel's ex-princess, later queen, she'd had top-tier royal schooling.

Yup—Zebel, post-split Atlantis exile zone, X-Sea.

Her ancestors? Sinners. Zebel was their dump—crimes lost to time, but the guilty piled up.

Built a nation, armed up, matched Poseidonis.

Zebel's seas were barren, resources thin, folk tougher than Poseidonis's.

Hegemony fights? Pass—barely fed, why play sea king?

When Arthur and Orm duked it out, Mera's dad—old Zebel king—bet both sides, kept the nation unscathed.

Other five kingdoms brawled, but Zebel's elite DC underwater kill squad—Zebel Daredevils—sat it out.

Arthur's army? Mostly diehard Idyllist allies.

Zebel pitched two seahorses, some critters, Mera, and her dad—Team Arthur.

Effort? Barely.

Mera's sister, current Zebel queen Siren, backed Orm.

Two-sided bet—dad's slick. Arthur or Orm, he's the sea king's father-in-law.

Orm lost, jailed—no Siren sequel. Mera wed Arthur, became queen, handed Zebel to Siren.

Siren? Jealous rage. She should've snagged Arthur. Queen now, she branded Mera a traitor—nationwide manhunt.

"Mera's sipping wine in Poseidonis while Zebel starves on northwest currents!"—big Zebel hit.

Mera's homeless—Zebel hates her guts. Atlantean law bans aiding Zebel sinners. What's she gonna do?

No one's debating the Grand Judge—old coot drowns you in word salad.

But ancient Atlantean script and glory lived in these sinners' hearts. Mera could read it.

Mind blown.

If the big hero's no hero, were Zebel's "sinners" even guilty?

Close guess—their crime: "maybe kinda pissed off Poseidon."

No need for Mera to spell it out—Barry and Superman weren't dense. Script was gibberish, but comics? Universal.

Poseidon was the root—planted Earth's doom.

Superman got it now. Why Wonder Woman sneered at Olympus mentions—eviler than any villain.

Calling cosmic sea clans for a summit, then poisoning them? Dark as hell.

Superman loathed schemes—lost any soft spot for the schemer. Maybe he'd backed free faith before, cool with Olympus worship.

But gods threatening Earth—universe? He's Team Human.

Olympus? Nah. Next time Batman sends Wonder Woman after them, Clark's backing her up.

If there's a next time.