After soothing Stranglehold with praise and a few empty promises, Su Ming began feeding the symbiote.
First up were common tals like copper and iron—versatile and likely to be useful.
Tracking the demon army’s trail, marked by beast-like footprints, he tested Stranglehold’s new abilities.
After devouring steel, it could morph into firearms, but it couldn’t—or wouldn’t—turn its tissue into bullets.
It had once ford batarangs, though Penguin didn’t notice the thin black thread linking them to "Batman’s" body.
Bullets, however, required an explosive propellant. How could it stay connected? Without a tether, any launched tissue would be like splitting off a spore—a potential rival for its host. Unacceptable.
Stranglehold would rather skip guns than risk spawning offspring.
Su Ming, unaware of its reasoning, wasn’t concerned. Since acquiring the Silk Pouch, ammo was never an issue. He’d prepared for an army this ti, fully stocked with bullets and explosives.
Stranglehold forming countless guns was a win, boosting firepower density. A few bucks for a box of bullets wouldn’t bankrupt a big shot like Su Ming.
Next, he tore off so clothing to feed Stranglehold fabric. Now its daily disguises wouldn’t feel greasy, blending seamlessly even in broad daylight without drawing stares.
Then ca a wine bottle for glass mimicry, a spicy snack bag for plastic—anything from his own gear to Monarch’s and Garth’s was fair ga for Stranglehold’s nu.
After dozens of tests, Su Ming confird the ability’s reliability. No real drawbacks. When mimicking tals, Stranglehold even offset its fire weakness.
It wasn’t fazed by open flas anymore. As long as the fla didn’t hit the lting point of the mimicked tal, it was fine.
Stranglehold’s one remaining weakness was sound waves. Maybe feeding it vibranium—aka sound-absorbing steel—could fix that?
But Wakanda was still off the map. Sneak a bite of Steve’s shield, maybe?
"Hm, might as well take a nibble soday. Steve’s probably bored of that round shield anyway. Ti for a new shape—out with the old, in with the new."
Musing, Su Ming ntally compiled a long nu for Stranglehold, organized by the periodic table. Every compound needed a sample.
But one last thing to feed it now.
"Stranglehold, eat my armor."
The black liquid creature enveloped every inch of his suit.
The prothium and N-tal alloy armor had been with Su Ming through countless battles, steeped in sentintal value.
But it required X-tal for repairs, and even with Stranglehold’s help, suiting up was slow. This was the perfect chance to let Stranglehold take over.
In seconds, Deathstroke looked unchanged from the outside, but Su Ming knew the armor had been upgraded. Henceforth, this would be Stranglehold’s Icon Form.
Sohow, Stranglehold made the new armor more form-fitting and flexible, eliminating repair hassles.
Early on, Su Ming had considered stealing tech from Howard or using Adjutant’s Cybertronian know-how to upgrade his suit, but repairs always lood—X-tal or bust, which ant calling in favors back in the DC Universe. A headache.
Now, with Stranglehold’s material mimicry, he could skip the Iron Man MK1 plan and go straight to sothing like the MK46 Bleeding Edge armor.
Tony’s Bleeding Edge used liquid nanotal in the bloodstream, with decent defense, a full electronic suite, and heavy weaponry.
Su Ming’s version, powered by Stranglehold’s biological abilities, was tech-free. The digital HUD in the helt was toast, but the defense held strong, with room for future upgrades.
Gains and losses—he’d weighed them long ago.
Stranglehold began spitting out the old X-tal "patches," which Su Ming pressed back onto the Nightfall Greatsword.
Surprisingly, it regurgitated a fully intact Eye of Ra.
Su Ming had watched Ancient One fuse it into the helt, turning it into golden light. Yet Stranglehold produced a whole one. Inexplicable.
Trying to crack the logic of magic? Pointless. Su Ming was curious but not curious enough to spend years studying magical theory just to understand so "zero-sum" principle.
The new HUD, mimicked by Stranglehold, lacked the familiar interface. Night vision ca from the symbiote too, which took so getting used to. If a fight broke out, he’d need to adapt fast.
The spare Eye of Ra? It’d serve as a telescope. Stranglehold could pull it from a pocket when needed—no hassle.
Garth, trailing at the rear near the Pegasus, was slightly worried about the boss’s state. Stranglehold’s appearance scread "monster" after that earlier encounter.
But given Su Ming’s usual confidence, she held her tongue.
Su Ming knew his symbiote inside out. If he’d bonded with Venom instead, no way would he boost its power or share so much intel.
Venom had too many hosts and a scrambled mind, courtesy of its "little cousin." Trusting it was less reliable than trusting Batman—at least Bats didn’t kill.
Stranglehold was simpler, loyal after years with Su Ming. It had passed the test.
The group navigated branching tunnels, the ground’s traces forming clearer footprints, speeding up their pursuit.
The tracks weren’t fresh, so they hurried. Su Ming floated just above the ground, while Monarch and Garth rode on.
In the pitch-black depths, ti felt elusive.
After an unknown stretch, Garth noticed the Pegasus’s ears flick back, locking at an odd angle.
A forr cavalry rider, she knew horses well. This ant it heard sothing humans didn’t—behind them.
Human ears, shaped as they are, miss sounds from the rear. Rotatable ears atop a head were a big advantage.
"Ambush! Rear!"
At Garth’s shout, Su Ming spun midair, soaring over their heads to the back of the group, eyes locked on the dark tunnel behind.
Maybe Garth’s voice tipped off the hidden predator. As Su Ming landed, he felt a faint tremor underfoot.
Stranglehold’s new armor form sharpened his senses—a nice perk.
The tremor grew distinct—not shaking, but the rhythmic patter of countless tiny feet.
In an underground tunnel, a creature this massive could only be one thing: a giant bug.
In the next instant, a gaping maw materialized before them, like a great white shark breaching from a dark ocean. All they saw were rings of razor-sharp teeth and a sea-cucumber-like inner chamber.
It had burst through the tunnel floor, catching even Su Ming off guard. Despite its train-like bulk, the thing moved at bullet-train speed.
Its body was earthen yellow, covered in black bristles, with irregular dark spots on mottled skin. Inside its belly, unidentifiable corpse fragnts churned.
Beneath its massive fra, hundreds of stubby legs supported rapid movent, even allowing fish-like leaps or lunges.
In a blink, the monster’s maw was in Su Ming’s face.
Calculating angle and speed, he braced his arms and legs, forcing the creature’s jaws apart.
The mouth stretched five or six ters wide, but that was no issue—Stranglehold could stretch too.
As armor, it acted like a hydraulic jack, slowly prying the bug’s jaws open.
Its limbs extended like liquid, and a mass of tendrils sprouted from Su Ming’s back, anchoring into the tunnel walls, locking both him and the beast in place.
Su Ming nodded, pleased. Deformable armor, perfectly synced with his mind—who needed electronics?
"Hold it. I’m going in for clues."
The armor lted away, revealing Su Ming in just shorts, a black thread along his spine linking to the empty armor shell—utterly creepy.
Barefoot, he strolled into the creature’s body, steadying himself against its writhing inner walls, heading toward the corpse fragnts in its gut.
This bug was a straight shot, gut-wise. Good. The digestive juices corroded Su Ming slightly, but his healing factor held up.
Stranglehold and the bug were locked in a wrestling match, with the symbiote clearly winning. It extended more tendrils, piercing the bug’s body and anchoring to the tunnel.
Then it transford the tendrils into prothium. Much easier.
Monarch sighed, looking away. The beast was no threat to Deathstroke. Better to rest than watch a naked guy rummage through a bug’s guts.
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