Prelude here: https://brendansversus.wordpress.com/2020/06/15/prelude-king-bradley-vs-deathstroke/
Alright, the combatants are set. Let’s end this debate once and for all! It’s time for a Death Battle!
——————————————————
European Forest
CLUNK! CLUNK! CLUNK! CLUNK!
The almost rhythmic beat of numerous steel-toed boots hitting the ground echoed throughout the forest, just as it had been for the past several hours. The men responsible for this noise were a group of soldiers, currently wading through the depths of the forest. Their uniforms were all identical, consisting of blue overcoats, pants, and a pair of black boots. Some had chosen to add to this outfit by adorning themselves with white coats or hats, though the intense heat meant that these additions were ultimately rendered moot. Despite this, all of the soldiers continued to move forward, following their leader without complaint.
The man in question stood in front, his gaze focused on the forestry ahead. His clothing consisted of a blue, full-length military issue coat and slacks. His legs were covered by a pair of blue dress pants, while his feet were obscured by black dress shoes. A sash lay around his outfit, currently holding four swords in its sheathes. When it came to appearance, this man’s face appeared somewhat stocky, with short black hair that contained a widow’s peak. A thick, black mustache covered his lips, and his left eye remained obscured by an eye patch.
This was King Bradley, the Führer-President of Amestris and- unbeknownst to his men- the Homunculus known as Wrath the Furious. Currently, he and his men were under orders from his superior- the original Homunculus, Father- to investigate some reports that had come up in the Amestrian military. Apparently, while investigating a far-off city, a group of soldiers had located three oddly-shaped statues, all of them near-naked men in rather odd poses. According to these reports, whatever came close to these statues would be attacked, which the soldiers only learned after four of them had died.
When he had first heard these claims, Bradley dismissed them as foolish, but Father seemed to take a slight interest in one of the smaller aspects of these reports. Three of the soldiers had reported seeing several oddities adorning the wall. These included a small set of stone masks, all of which bore fangs, as well as some odd carvings that depicted a red stone. When he had heard this, the elderly Homunculus sat up, a small glimmer of surprise shining in his otherwise dull eyes.
It had been several hours since Father had given his orders to investigate, and the battalion was nearly a third of the way through their trek. As they traveled down one of the forest’s many pathways, however, Bradley could’ve sworn he heard something: a faint, nearly inaudible rustle. The moment this noise echoed through his ears, he immediately stopped and raised his arm, signaling for his men to follow suit.
”It seems someone’s trying to spy on us. Keep yourselves on high alert!” As he said this, the troops began to look around the area nervously, some clutching their rifles while others tightened their grip on their swords. Sweat began to pour down their faces, until finally-
SPLURTCH!
A bullet suddenly tore through the skull of one of the soldiers, spraying blood onto his comrades’ outfits as he fell to the ground. The others’ eyes widened in horror, but before their panic could overtake them, three more shots emerged, seemingly from nowhere. Each one nailed itself into a different portion of its target’s body, but one thing was certain: they had all been fired with extreme precision, each shot ensuring a quick death. Within the span of a few seconds, the group had dwindled, going from several dozen members to only one. But if the sniper expected this to frighten Bradley in any way, they were sorely mistaken! Instead, the Homunculus had decided to scan the area, his uncovered eye darting back and forth until he noticed something: a brief muzzle flash.
With lightning-fast reaction speeds, Wrath turned toward its direction, having already drawn a sword and swung it through the air. An audible SHINK rang out as the blade met another metal object- a bullet, he noted. And that could only mean-
Another flash appeared out of the corner of his eye, causing the Führer to turn toward it, his hand already gripping a second hilt. Another swing, and a second bullet was sliced in two.
”Don’t tell me marksmanship’s all you have!” Bradley taunted, a slight smirk on his face as he continued to scan his surroundings. Once again, he picked up the nigh-inaudible rustle of leaves, and he proved quick to bring both swords behind him. A deafening CLANG rang throughout the clearing, the result of his sabers meeting a blade of similar caliber. Turning to face his attacker, Bradley’s smirk evolved into a full-blown grin as he saw who was in front of him.
Standing before him was a man clad in orange-and-black armor. A sash lay wrapped around his chest, adorned with hundreds of ammunition cases, while his waist was covered by a belt containing two submachine guns and dozens of pouches. Two knives were attached to his outfit, one on his waist and the other strapped to his right thigh. A holster was strapped to his left thigh, currently containing a pistol. Several hilts emerged from his back, one containing a second sword with a yellow crossguard, another containing what appeared to be a staff, and a third containing a sword with an intricately designed golden hilt. But the thing Bradley noticed the most was his mask. It was split down the middle, with one half consisting of orange fabric and the other being pitch-black. The mask itself contained a single hole on the orange half, revealing an eye that glared intently at Bradley.
Although they had never met before then, Bradley was aware of this man’s existence, if only through his reputation. A fearsome soldier turned mercenary, feared even by those who hired him. He was known by many names. Deathstroke. The Terminator. The Balkan. But before he had taken up the role of a mercenary, this man had gone by another name.
”Slade Wilson.” Bradley declared as he continued struggling against his opponent’s blade. With a sudden push, the Führer had caused his attacker to stagger back, and he proved quick to exploit it! With a sudden lunge, Bradley thrust his right saber forward, intent on driving it through Wilson’s shoulder. Unfortunately, it seemed the mercenary’s reflexes may have matched his own, as he immediately brought his sword up to parry it. The two blades clashed in a series of sparks, but Wrath proved quick to put it aside as he reeled back, readying both swords in the process.
“What reason do you have for targeting me?” Bradley asked as he swung both swords through the air at lightning-fast speeds. Each swing was aimed at a specific weak spot in Slade’s body, but it seemed that none of them were destined to land. No matter how quickly he attempted to swing them, Wilson would casually block or parry each one, almost like he could see them coming! An upward swing attempted to disarm Deathstroke of his weapon, but he proved quick to avoid it as he leapt out of its range.
[Stop music]
”Let’s just say that you’ve got some crimes you need to answer for, and there are some people willing to pay a hefty price for your head.” Deathstroke said.
”The Ishvalans?” Bradley asked. Slade nodded, causing the Homunculus to smirk. “So they finally decided to take my advice and stopped relying on their God to answer their prayers, eh?”
”And unfortunately for you, they decided to hire me.” Deathstroke responded, smirking under his mask.
“HA! The only unfortunate one here is you, Slade, and for one reason,” Bradley lowered himself into a fighting stance before continuing. “You had the gall to think you could challenge me!”
“Oh, I assure you,” Deathstroke paused to pull out his pistol before following suit, pointing its barrel at the military leader. “I’m far different from the rest.”
“Why don’t you show me a demonstration, then?” King asked, his smirk growing further in size.
Deathstroke proved quick to honor the request as he pulled the Beretta’s trigger, rapidly firing off three shots. Between each millisecond of firing his shots, Slade would calculate the trajectory of each bullet, keeping a close eye on Bradley’s body language. As a result, he had made each of his shots with extreme precision, ensuring that even if Bradley managed to dodge one of them, the rest would still hit their mark.
As he watched each of the bullets fly toward him, Wrath’s muscles began to tense up. Even without using his Ultimate Eye, he was still scanning the oncoming projectiles, mentally assessing their trajectories. Three milliseconds later, and a grin began to form on his face as he rushed forward. His arms moved like blurs, with the weapons themselves moving so quickly that it couldn’t even be seen! As the halves of each bullet descended toward the ground, Bradley lunged forward, thrusting his right sword directly at Deathstroke’s chest. It was inches away from piercing through the mercenary’s chestplate, but Slade proved quick to respond.
With a diagonal swing of the promethium sword, the saber’s path had not only been interrupted, it had been diverted. Not helping was that Deathstroke had twisted his body at an angle, ensuring that he would also avoid the Führer’s second attempt. With this newfound opening in his opponent’s defenses, Wilson immediately raised his Beretta and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The bullet flew out from its chamber, rapidly approaching the Homunculus’ temple. Just when it seemed like it was about to pierce his skin, however, Bradley suddenly tilted his head to the side, causing the bullet to whiz past him harmlessly. That wasn’t to say it was completely ineffective, as it had succeeded in nicking Bradley’s eye patch. Despite the close call he had just experienced, the Führer proved quick to jump back into the fray, using his change in position to slam his head against Slade’s. It struck hard enough that the Terminator’s head snapped back, eliciting a grunt of pain as he stumbled back.
With his opponent distracted, Wrath seized the opportunity and swung his right saber through the air, delivering a diagonal slash that ripped the promethium sword out of Slade’s hand. As it ascended through the air, Bradley attempted to end the fight quickly with a swing of his left sword, intent on slitting Slade’s throat. At the same time, Deathstroke had already recovered and, upon realizing the sword was rapidly approaching him, time seemed to slow to a crawl.
As his mind went into overdrive, Wilson quickly brought his arm up, creating an audible CLANG as the saber clashed against his forearm. Sparks flew through the air as the steel blade met Slade’s promethium armor, but it would soon end as Deathstroke leapt to the right and brought his Beretta up. His finger rested on the trigger, just a nanosecond away from pulling it, but then-
SHING!
[Stop music]
Bradley, having noticed the sudden change in motion, responded with a horizontal slash, splitting the firearm in two. With his opponent now disarmed, he took the opportunity to thrust both arms forward, intent on stabbing through the less protected areas in Deathstroke’s armor. During the several milliseconds it had taken for his arm to move an inch, Bradley had taken the time to look the armor over, calculating the best options to aim at. Then he found it, and it took everything in his power to not smirk at the realization.
With his arms hurtling toward Slade, Bradley adjusted his grip, aiming one slightly below the ribs and the other over his left pec. Both of them flew through the air, mere inches away from piercing the armor, but then something odd happened. Slade had reached out, grabbing hold of both arms and holding them at bay. Of the two, the first sword’s tip was only a centimeter away from stabbing through Deathstroke’s side, and Wrath was ready to finish the job! Unfortunately, his efforts seemed to be in vain. No matter how hard he pushed, the damned sword wouldn’t move! Of course, Deathstroke’s own fight for survival wasn’t doing Bradley any favors, either.
Keeping a firm grip on his opponent’s arms, Deathstroke began to slowly apply pressure, forcing them to bend at an uncomfortable angle. With each centimeter that passed, another flare of pain shot through Bradley’s mind, and the grip on his weapons continued to loosen. In fact, he had already dropped one of his swords. But if Slade expected that this would stop Bradley at all, he was dead wrong!
In a desperate attempt to free himself, Bradley slipped his left arm free and threw out a hook, attempting to aim at Deathstroke’s blind spot. The fist flew forward, but just before it could land, Slade flicked his own hand through the air. The next thing Bradley knew, something gray and metallic had smacked against his face, causing his attack to whiff as he stumbled back. His other sword fell to the ground and, while he was in the midst of recovering, the Führer took a brief moment to look down at what had hit him. Upon seeing what it was, his eye widened in surprise. Laying on the ground was Slade’s Beretta, the same weapon he had reduced to scrap only seconds prior!
‘Hm. Seems he’s more cunning than I gave him credit for.’ Bradley admitted to himself. As he returned his focus to Deathstroke, the Homunculus instinctively put his arm up, blocking a right hook. Pushing the arm aside, he responded by planting a left hook into Slade’s jaw. The blow staggered the mercenary, and before he could recover, Bradley lunged forward! Three jabs and crosses planted themselves into Deathstroke’s stomach, each one aimed at the less-armored portions of his clothing. For a brief millisecond, Bradley had reeled back his fist, preparing to deliver a strike that would finish the combo. Unfortunately for him, it would be this same moment that allowed Slade to recover his bearings.
As he watched the Führer‘s fist slowly approach him, Deathstroke responded by tilting his head to the side, allowing the uppercut to lightly brush past his left cheek. Once it had, the mercenary lunged forward, slamming into his adversary with three punches. The first was a left cross to the stomach, the second was a hook aimed at his chest, and the third was a jab that embedded itself into Bradley’s right pec. Then, as the Homunculus staggered back from the pain, Slade smashed into his face with a wicked headbutt!
Upon contact, an audible CRUNCH could be heard as Wrath’s nose was broken, followed by a cry of pain. In his pain, Bradley stumbled back, and it was at this same moment that Deathstroke decided to end it!
Ducking down, Slade threw out a sweeping kick, knocking him off his feet and onto the ground. Before he could get back up, Wilson lunged forward and wrapped both of his hands around the Homunculus’ neck.
”I’m… quite impressed!” The Führer choked out as the pressure around his neck began to grow. “I heard the rumors… but I never thought… you’d be this skilled in combat!” As he said this, he grabbed hold of Slade’s arms. Then, with as much fading strength as he could muster, he began pulling at them, intent on freeing himself from this cruel fate.
Unfortunately, it seemed that his efforts were in vain. No matter how hard he pulled, Deathstroke’s arms refused to budge, much like the swords from earlier. Not helping matters were his fading sight and slowing breath, both of which were starting to affect his struggles. He could feel himself growing weaker, and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it! But in this sense of hopelessness, this feeling of loss, Wrath could feel something building up from within. It was quickly spreading throughout his entire system- a surge of adrenaline, brought on solely by his desire to survive, and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste!
With this newfound energy replacing his fading strength, Bradley began to pull against the arms that held him down, and he was slowly succeeding in his goal! With each second, Slade’s arms were moved further out of reach, and as he stared the mercenary in the eye, Bradley couldn’t help but flash him a smirk. Then, before the mercenary could think up a new strategy, Bradley kneed him in the stomach, eliciting a grunt of pain as his former target suddenly threw him over!
As Deathstroke’s body flipped through the air, already halfway into landing on his back, King scanned the area using his uncovered eye. With the skill Slade had showcased, he’d need a weapon if he wanted to even the odds. While he could’ve just used one of his spare swords, its ineffectiveness against Deathstroke’s armor proved quick to rule that out. But what else could he…
’Aha!’ His eyes widened as he noticed two familiar weapons laying near him. One of his swords lay nearby, currently several feet away from his grasp, but he was more interested in the second item: Deathstroke’s promethium sword, currently laying against the grassy terrain. Admittedly, it was farther from his reach compared to the saber, but he quickly put it aside as he pushed himself back to his feet. Then, after his legs tensed up for a brief second, he shot forward!
While this was occurring, Slade had also begun to rise back up, and the sound of rapid footsteps caused him to turn toward its direction. Upon doing so, he noticed King Bradley, currently holding both the promethium sword and one of his sabers from earlier. Realizing the trouble this would bring, as well as the vulnerable spot his opponent was in, Deathstroke proved quick to grab hold of the Heckler & Koch MP5K’s strapped to his side. With blinding speed, he swiped them across his ammunition belt, filling them to the brim immediately, and aimed at Bradley. The leader of Amestris was just beginning to stand upright, and Slade was more than willing to exploit this!
BRADADADADADADA!
With a pull of both triggers, the submachine guns let loose a hailstorm of bullets, all of them quickly spreading out across the area. For an ordinary person, this sight would’ve no doubt left them in a state of shock, and their only recourse would’ve been to close their eyes and wait for the inevitable. But it went without saying that Führer-President King Bradley was not most men! As he stared down the onslaught of ammunition flying toward him, the Homunculus’ expression lifted, going from a look of stoicism to a cocky smirk.
“Back to gunplay, are we?” He taunted as he lowered himself into a fighting stance. “You should know by now that those pathetic shells mean nothing to me!”
As these words escaped his lips, the leader of Amestris suddenly boosted forward, swinging his swords like a madman. He moved so quickly that, to the untrained eye, it would’ve seemed that his arms had completely disappeared! Every time a bullet approached his vicinity, he would immediately split it in two with a swing of his blades, causing it to fall to the ground. With each second that passed, Wrath continued to close the distance between them, and he would commemorate each step by picking up the pace.
”Feel free to bring out whatever you’d like, Terminator! Guns, swords, it doesn’t matter! If it stands in my way, I’ll cut it down without a moment’s hesitation!” He boasted as his arms continued to dart around his body. By now, the swords couldn’t even qualify as blurs. They were moving so quickly that a vacuum of air was starting to blow away some of the bullets before they could even approach! The few rounds that would bypass this “shield” would only meet the same fate as their predecessors, with Bradley nonchalantly rending them in two.
[Stop music]
“Is that so?” Deathstroke responded, now sounding somewhat smug as he returned his SMGs to their straps. Gripping the staff-like object behind him, he quickly unsheathed it to reveal its true form. It resembled a metal bo staff, though both of its ends possessed a hollowed-out, cylindrical extension. Pointing one of its ends at Bradley, a blast of cobalt energy began to build up within the extension, growing brighter with each millisecond that passed.
”Then let’s see how you plan to cut through this!” As these words escaped his lips, Slade thrust his staff forward, firing off an enormous laser from its shaft. The beam approached Bradley at blinding speeds, piercing his stomach faster than he could’ve hoped to react. The moment it made contact, King felt himself get blown back, causing him to let out a cry of pain. Despite the beam burning his abs, Bradley proved quick to recover as he planted both feet against the ground, skidding to a halt. At the same time, he noticed a familiar shadow suspended above him. Looking up, the Homunculus proved quick to bring both swords up, placing them in a defensive position. He was just in time, too, as Deathstroke had leapt through the air, already in the midst of bringing his staff down!
Upon colliding, the simultaneous sounds of a metallic CLANG and a sound like shattering glass rang throughout the forest. The shards of metal that had once been Bradley’s saber fell to the ground, while its wielder held his ground. Despite just losing one of his weapons, the Homunculus proved quick to adapt as he used the stolen promethium sword to parry the strike.
With the staff’s path diverted, Wrath decided to take a page out of his opponent’s book and chucked his broken weapon at Slade. The saber-turned-dagger nailed Deathstroke in the shoulder, stabbing through a chink in his armor and eliciting a grunt from the former soldier. Blood began to seep from the wound, he proved quick to rip it free and tossed it aside. As this was occurring, Bradley, seeing an opening in his opponent’s defenses, rushed forward, ready to rend Slade in two with his own sword. The promethium blade flew forward at blinding speeds-
SHINK!
-only for Deathstroke to suddenly recover and raise his staff, blocking the oncoming strike with ease!
”Don’t think you can take me out that easily. All you did was get in a lucky shot.” Slade said as they struggled against each other’s weapons.
”Is that so?” Bradley responded as he spun around, swinging the sword at enough of an angle that he could’ve easily decapitated the mercenary. Unfortunately, it seemed Deathstroke had seen this coming, as he quickly spun the staff around and smacked it against the right side of Bradley’s head. The Führer stumbled back, briefly overwhelmed by the pain, and Slade proved quick to capitalize on this!
With blinding speeds, the Terminator swung his staff at multiple angles, aiming each strike to target the vital sections and pressure points in Wrath’s body. Every time these hits landed, the blue-clad leader felt a numbing pain shoot through his body, and it would only grow in intensity with each blow that passed. In fact, he was moving so quickly that Bradley couldn’t even keep track of his movements. He couldn’t even make out Wilson’s actions during the brief intervals between hits!
’That speed… it might even rival my Ultimate Eye!’ He thought in astonishment as he was continuously bludgeoned. Before he could think on this matter any further, however, Deathstroke ended the combo by thrusting his staff into Bradley’s abs, causing the Führer to cough up spittle as he lurched over. As he stared down at the staff, Bradley noticed its end flash blue for a brief moment, causing his eyes to widen in horror.
FWOOOOOOOOM!
[Stop music]
”HRAAAAAAAGGHHH!” The Homunculus’ scream of agony echoed throughout the forest as the energy violently launched him away. The burning pain in his stomach had now increased tenfold, as what had once been confined to the outside of his body had now spread into several of his organs. Not helping was his landing, as he slammed into the ground back-first. Upon impact, Wrath involuntarily opened his mouth, allowing several flecks of blood to emerge from his throat.
As these drops hit the ground, he found himself rolling across the grassy terrain, each cycle producing another sensation of pain as he landed on his stomach. This would continue for several more feet until Bradley planted his stolen sword in the ground, allowing him to rapidly skid to a halt. As he attempted to get back to his feet, King doubled over, collapsing onto one knee as he felt pain sear throughout his stomach. Looking down, he found himself staring at the source. It was a hole, currently between his abs and roughly the size of a medal. Although it had been cauterized by the laser’s heat, it didn’t change the fact that if left unchecked, this newfound injury would only serve to hinder him! As this realization came to him, Wrath couldn’t help but sigh in annoyance.
‘It’s times like this that make me wish I had the same healing ability as my siblings.’ He thought as he forced himself back up. While doing so, a familiar set of footsteps began to echo throughout his ears, and he quickly looked toward their direction. Upon doing so, he found Deathstroke striding toward him, and though his mask obscured most of his face, Bradley still noticed the look in his eye. He could sense two emotions stirring within Slade: annoyance at his inability to die, as well as a shred of respect for his tenacity.
“I’ll give you credit where it’s due, Bradley. You’re one persistent bastard.” He admitted.
”I could say the same about you, Slade. Even with all of that armor, you’ve still managed to keep up with me!” Bradley responded, sounding heavily impressed as he grinned at the mercenary. This expression soon fell, morphing into a more serious look as he continued speaking. “But I’m afraid this is going to be as far as you go.”
Placing his hand against his eye patch, Bradley then proceeded to tear it off, revealing what lay beneath. A scar ran across his eyelid, with his sclera rolling forward to reveal a surprising sight. Its pupil consisted of a red symbol, one depicting the alchemic symbol for transmutation, while the iris was that of the ouroboros, depicting a snake biting its own tail. Though Deathstroke had no way of knowing this, what he was looking at was a sign of King Bradley’s transformation, the power that had turned him into a Homunculus: the Ultimate Eye!
”That armor may grant you protection, but with my Ultimate Eye,” Bradley cut himself off as he shot forward, moving so quickly that Deathstroke didn’t even have time to notice he’d vanished! He proved quick to regain his bearings, however, as he picked up a vague blue blur rushing toward him. In an attempt to intercept what would no doubt be an oncoming attack, Slade swung the staff with all of his might, aiming specifically at the Führer’s collar. There was no doubt that if it had struck, the bone would’ve snapped in two from the pressure alone. The keyword here being “if.”
Despite the oncoming staff threatening to crush his collarbone, Wrath stared straight at the approaching weapon with a smirk. Thanks to the Ultimate Eye, he had predicted that Slade would use this exact method, and now he had spotted a small section on the staff. It was a minuscule line running across the middle of the weapon’s base, almost as if connecting one end to the other, and there was no doubt that this link was one of the staff’s weaker sections.
With this thought in mind, King swung his stolen sword upward, slicing clean through the staff as he turned to the side. Grabbing hold of the bifurcated weapon, Bradley quickly flipped it over so that its shaft was pointed directly at Slade. He briefly looked the mercenary over, scanning the armor for any exploitable weak points. Within a millisecond, he had found it- or rather, he had found them! Located just above the shoulder pads was a small gap, though it would be hard to exploit in his current position. Unless…
”All it does is leave you wide open!” The Homunculus finished, using all of his might to jam the impromptu eskrima stick into Slade’s right shoulder! Deathstroke screamed in a mix of pain and fury as his former weapon ripped through the gap in his shoulder pad, impaling itself through his right deltoid. He could feel a pain like trillions of needles running through his mind, and it would only get worse as Bradley wrenched it in even further! Blood began to drip out of the wound, only growing further as King twisted once again. This time, though, the Führer had managed to activate another one of its features!
BBZZZZTTT!
As the eskrima stick was wrenched further into Slade’s shoulder, an arc of electricity emerged from the shaft, burning through the mercenary’s muscles. His already agonizing pain multiplied tenfold, which caused his scream to intensify even further. No longer was this pain like trillions of needles. Now, in addition to the piercing sensation in his shoulder, his muscles felt like they’d been set ablaze! The burning pain had nearly caused his arm to go numb, and while he refused to black out from it, the shock had still been enough to make him drop the other eskrima stick. Noticing this, Wrath immediately swiped the falling weapon and switched it out for the promethium sword, which he proceeded to plant into Slade’s leg. The blade, now stained in its former owner’s blood, exited out of his calf. Pain flared through his mind as he fell onto one knee, though he quickly pushed it aside as he noticed Bradley grip the handle on his promethium sword. Then, with a swift yank-
SCHLICK!
-the sword was ripped free from his calf, causing Slade to fight back the urge to scream in pain. As he did so, he took note of Bradley’s body language. From the way his muscles were tensing up, it was clear he intended to attack with the promethium sword, but just before he could-
WHAM!
An uppercut nailed Bradley in the chin, causing him to stumble back. With his opponent now open, Deathstroke followed up by grabbing hold of the stick in his shoulder and ripped it out, barely acknowledging the pain as he continued his assault. With the eskrima stick now in hand, Slade wasted no time in using it to backhand Bradley across the face. The Homunculus continued to stagger, and Wilson was more than willing to exploit this as he thrust the eskrima stick into Bradley’s chest. Then, with a flick of his wrist-
BBBBZZZZZTTTT!
[Stop music]
“GRAAAH!” Bradley screamed in pain as dozens of volts coursed through him. The shock ran through his entire body, causing all of his muscles to go numb, and with it, his grip on his weapons faltered. The promethium sword fell out of his hand, clattering to the ground, and Deathstroke gave a smirk from underneath his mask. Then, as Bradley’s knees buckled, Slade gave a sudden kick to the stomach, forcing the Führer to collapse onto his back. While he was doing so, Wilson had taken the opportunity to recover his stolen weapons, forcing his eskrima sticks back into their staff form before retrieving his promethium sword.
Now wielding it in his left hand, the Terminator turned his attention back to Bradley, who was still writhing in pain. Seeing an opportunity to end it, Slade immediately brought his blade down, intent on stabbing Amestris’ leader straight through the neck. Unfortunately, it seemed Bradley had recovered quicker than he’d expected, as the old man quickly rolled to the side and threw out a sweep kick, knocking Deathstroke onto his back. The two got back up almost instantly, Slade gripping his promethium sword as he unsheathed the second one from his back, allowing Bradley to see it in full.
From what he could tell, it appeared to be a broadsword, with two yellow extensions protruding downward from the crossguard. The blade itself was roughly 40 inches long, with a slimmer section roughly three inches away from its hilt. Long ago, this sword had been called Scrymgeour, but ever since coming into Slade’s possession, it had taken on a new name: the Deathstroke.
Now armed with dual swords, Deathstroke rushed toward Bradley and immediately swung his self-named broadsword at the Amestrian ruler. For a brief moment it appeared his target was done for, but this notion was soon proven false as an audible CLANG echoed throughout the area. Despite there being only a scant few milliseconds where he could’ve acted, King had somehow managed to unsheathe two of his swords, raising his left to block what should’ve been a decisive blow.
“You’re a fast one, aren’t you?” He commented in a surprisingly casual tone. “If I had been even a second late, that swing might’ve actually killed me.”
Slade swung his left arm upward, attempting to catch the Homunculus off guard by stabbing him through the chest. To his surprise, Bradley reacted almost instantly, using his right sword to catch the thrust and stop it mid-swing. Then, in an attempt to exploit the hole in Wilson’s defenses, King pushed the mercenary’s broadsword aside and drove his left arm forward. Slade’s reacted just as quickly, parrying the oncoming slash with a diagonal swing of the broadsword. He then spun around, swinging his saber through the air with the intent of slicing through Bradley’s neck, but it seemed that the Führer had other plans. Ducking under, the leader of Amestris had managed to narrowly avoid a decapitation, instead only losing a few strands of hair. At the same time, he lunged forward, intent on driving both swords into Deathstroke’s sides. They flew forward-
WHAM!
-only for his supposed target to slam into him with a knee strike, shattering his nose even further and making him stagger. Not content with this, Deathstroke then proceeded to plant his foot against Bradley’s chest, using it as a springboard while forcing his opponent to the ground. The Homunculus hit the ground back-first, immediately noticing a shadow suspended above him and approaching fast!
Despite having little time to react, Wrath rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding impalement through the chest. An audible THUNK could be heard as his swords hit the ground, leaving both blades planted into the dirt. Seeing a chance to exploit this, Bradley threw out a sweep kick, but it would only hit thin air as Wilson backflipped out of range, taking his swords with him. As he spun through the air, Slade swung the Deathstroke at Bradley’s neck, intent on regaining the advantage he’d just had. His hopes were soon dashed, however, as his target leaned back, with the broadsword missing his nose by only an inch. Cartwheeling back to his feet, Bradley noticed the look of anger in Slade’s eye and chuckled.
[Stop music]
”No need to get so worked up, son. You should feel proud of yourself. After all, you’re the first person to give me a challenge in such a long time. Even with my Ultimate Eye, you’ve still given me a few close calls.” He admitted, only for his expression to turn serious as he continued speaking. “But make no mistake. You’re bound to slip up eventually, and when you do-“
He suddenly lunged forward, intent on exploiting an opening he had just noticed.
”I WILL NOTICE IT!” The Homunculus declared, emphasizing his words by driving both of his sabers into Deathstroke’s body! Slade gnashed his teeth, fighting back the urge to vocalize his pain. Noticing this, Bradley responded with a sneer before pushing his blades even further. As he felt the sabers dig through his chest, now deep enough that their tips were emerging from his back, Slade looked Bradley straight in the eye, and it was then that he started to piece things together.
’Ever since he’s brought out that eye, it’s gotten harder for me to hit him. Not to mention,’ Slade paused, recalling what Bradley had done while it was active.
There was the way he’d sliced through the staff, having aimed for a weak spot that most wouldn’t have noticed…
How he had exploited a minuscule gap in the promethium armor, one that he couldn’t have noticed beforehand…
The way he seemed to be dodging all of Slade’s attacks, almost as if he could see them coming…
But most damning of all was what he’d said just now: “You’re bound to slip up eventually, and when you do, I will notice it!”
Given the way he’d emphasized “will,” coupled with the other evidence, Deathstroke had come to a realization, one that caused his mouth to raise in a slight smirk.
“You seem pretty confident about that eye of yours.” He pointed out as he swung the Deathstroke through the air, creating an audible CLANG as it split the Führer’s swords clean in half. Bradley’s eyes widened in shock, which would only grow as the Terminator lunged forward, his sword’s tip rapidly approaching King’s face.
”Let’s see how you do without it.” Deathstroke said coldly as he thrust the saber into Bradley’s eye!
SCHLICK!
A scream of agony erupted from Bradley’s throat as he felt the sword stab through his eye. As Deathstroke ripped the sword from his eye socket, Bradley felt blood seep down his face, and with it his pain started to fade. In its place was another emotion, one that continued to grow as he stared at Slade: pure, unadulterated rage!
[Skip to 0:49 if you haven’t already passed it]
With a furious scream, Bradley lunged forward, swinging his left sword as hard as he could! Slade responded by raising the Deathstroke, swinging it at enough of an angle that he was able to catch its blade in his hilt! Then, with a flick of his wrist, Wilson ripped the weapon from Bradley’s grip, sending it flying across the clearing! Undeterred, the Führer attempted to land a diagonal swing with his right arm, but Deathstroke countered with a swing of his own blade. Upon colliding, history repeated itself as the promethium sword divided its opposition even further, while its longer blade ran across Bradley’s forearm.
A muffled grunt of pain emerged from Wrath’s throat as blood oozed out of his wound, but he proved quick to push it aside. Instead, he chose to capitalize on the millisecond long opportunity Slade had given him by swinging his leg through the air and slamming it into the merc’s blind spot! Although the promethium armor had nullified most of its damage, the Homunculus’ roundhouse kick had still sent the Terminator into the air, and this was exactly what Bradley was hoping for!
Before Deathstroke could fully recover, Wrath leapt through the air and slammed into his chest with a dropkick, sending him hurtling back toward the ground. The Vietnam veteran hit the dirt with a loud THUNK, something Bradley proved quick to capitalize on as he reached behind himself and chucked an item at Slade. Noticing what it was, the Terminator responded with a smug “hmph” before plucking it from the air. Then, with an almost casual air, he lobbed the stick grenade back at its owner. The sight of this caused Bradley’s remaining eye to widen in shock, but before he could attempt to divert its path-
BOOM!
[Stop music]
The grenade exploded just inches away from Bradley’s face, causing him to cry out in pain as he was thrown several feet across the clearing. This pain would only grow further as he slammed into the ground, but he quickly pushed it aside. As he got back to his feet, the Führer looked up, only for his eye to narrow in frustration at what he saw- or rather, at what he didn’t see. He had expected Slade to be rushing toward him, weapon in hand and ready to strike him down at any second. This same expectation had caused Bradley to steel himself, fully prepared to defend against the inevitable clash, but it was all for naught.
Rather than Deathstroke running toward him at top speed, Bradley found himself staring at the clearing, with foliage as far as the eye can see. The only signs of Slade’s existence were the split blades on the ground, both of which lay coated in blood. Other than that, it was as if Slade had vanished into thin air!
‘No, not vanished. He escaped!’ Bradley realized as his eye narrowed. ‘Seems he’s falling back on his old tactics once again, but where could he be hiding this time?’
His right eye scanned the area, keeping a lookout for any signs of movement. His left hand gripped his remaining sword as he listened out for any sign of Deathstroke. For a few tense seconds, no sound could be heard throughout the forest, but then-
BANG!
The sound of a shot firing echoed throughout the clearing, coming from Bradley’s left. He responded by immediately turning toward it, having already drawn his sword. It flew through the air in an arc, splitting the oncoming bullet before it could even approach Bradley. Three more BANGs rang out, each one fired from a different position, but this only caused Wrath to smirk. With nothing more than a flick of his wrist, he split each of the bullets in two, causing their shells to harmlessly fly past him.
”There you are!” He muttered, a smirk on his face as he began running parallel to his attacker. Four shots emerged from his opponent’s firearm, only to meet the same fate as their predecessors. Ammunition was starting to trail the ground Bradley was walking on, but he chose to ignore it as he changed position, making a b-line straight for Deathstroke! With each second that passed, he seemed to get closer to the mercenary, but then-
KA-CHUNK!
A grenade shot out of the foliage, eliciting a smirk from Bradley as he swung his sword through the air. The flat of its blade met the grenade’s casing, batting it to the side as he continued forward. His leg muscles tensed up for a brief second before he leapt through the air, letting out a war cry as he brought his sword down. The Terminator responded by leaping back, causing the sword to hit thin air as its diagonal slash narrowly brushed past his chestplate.
As Bradley’s sword brushed against the ground, Slade raised his AR-15 through the air, immediately pulling its trigger. A BANG echoed through Bradley’s ears, followed by a scream of pain as a bullet tore through his shoulder, forcing him to drop his sword. Before he could recover it, Deathstroke had landed on his feet, having already aimed its barrel at Bradley’s head. He pulled the trigger, but just as the bullet emerged, Bradley shifted his body to the right. The bullet just barely missed the side of his head, and as he turned, the Homunculus threw his leg through the air, kicking the rifle out of Slade’s grip!
With his opponent now defenseless, Bradley swung his sword through the air, aiming its edge at Deathstroke’s neck. It sailed toward the mercenary at breakneck speeds, and for a moment it seemed that King’s tenacity had paid off. Much like earlier in their fight, his sword was only a few centimeters from cleaving through Slade’s neck, but now there was a crucial difference. Last time, he had been careless enough to leave Deathstroke armed, and he had certainly paid the price. Needless to say, he wasn’t going to let history repeat! It didn’t matter how fast Slade was. Even with his speed, there was no way he’d be able to escape this!
These were the thoughts that ran through Bradley’s head as he watched his weapon approach Slade’s jugular. Unfortunately, it seemed that in his haste for victory, he had made a crucial error in judgment: he had underestimated Deathstroke’s capabilities!
Just when it seemed that the sword was about to cut through his neck, Deathstroke brought his left arm up, using it to grab hold of the golden hilt that was strapped to his back. Then, in a swift and fluid motion, he unsheathed it and swung as hard as he could! For a brief millisecond, the start of a loud CLANG rang out through the forest, but it was simultaneously eclipsed by another, far louder noise.
FWOOOOOOSH!
An enormous explosion of energy erupted from Deathstroke’s weapon, eliciting a scream from Bradley as he was sent hurtling across the forest. He slammed into several rows of trees, breaking through them each time as his pain continued to grow. It would only end once he slammed into the ground back-first, eliciting a grunt of pain as he rolled across the ground. Upon coming to a stop, Bradley wasted no time in pushing himself back up, and as he rose to his feet, he immediately noticed his surroundings. He was back where he started, with the corpses of his men surrounding his field of view. Not helping was the current state of his saber, which had clearly seen better days.
What laid several feet in front of him wasn’t the polished, 3-feet long blade he had wielded just moments prior. Its hilt was mostly burnt, the explosion’s heat had reduced its crossguard to slag, and the guard itself was now missing. It didn’t help that the only remaining part of its blade was the ricasso. Needless to say, Bradley knew that even with his skill, he couldn’t make this work. And with his last sword now destroyed, he knew there was no way he could make it out of this alive.
Or was there?
As he looked around, Wrath noticed something pinned to all of his comrades’ limp corpses. They were twin pairs of knives, all of them roughly six inches in length and currently sheathed to their belts.
’Not exactly my first choice of weapon, but I guess I can’t complain.’ He admitted as he picked up the knives from the nearest corpse. Getting back to his feet, he placed one in his holster before staring back at where Wilson had launched him. The smoke was starting to clear up, but Deathstroke had vanished once again! Bradley swore under his breath, which was only rendered further inaudible as his opponent spoke up.
”After all of this, you think you can take me on with a knife?” Upon hearing Slade’s voice, Bradley’s remaining eye narrowed in anger. He looked around the area, searching for his current location as the man continued to speak. “Either you’ve taken the line about ‘desperate times’ to the extreme, or the blood loss from your wounds is starting to affect your judgment. Not that it matters to me.”
KK-TCH-CHAAASSH!
As this bizarre sound reached his ears, Bradley turned toward its direction, his knife already at the ready. Upon seeing what it was, however, he quickly backflipped, just barely avoiding what appeared to be some sort of golden tendril. Before he could even question what had attacked him, the Führer grit his teeth as he felt something wrap around his right ankle. It dug into his skin, and he could feel blood oozing out of the wound. Gritting his teeth, Bradley knelt down and attempted to slice through his binding, but the sound of something flying through the air caused him to stop.
Looking back up, he found that dozens of tendrils were now heading toward him. A grimace appeared on Bradley’s face as he watched through his remaining eye. If he still had the Ultimate Eye on him, this barrage wouldn’t have troubled him in the slightest, but since he didn’t-
“I guess we’ll just have to do this the hard way!” He announced before charging forward. The moment the tendrils entered his line of sight, Bradley didn’t hesitate to act!
Using his enhanced speed, the Homunculus began swinging like a madman, his knife becoming a blur as he ran through the area. The moment he noticed a tendril about to approach him, Wrath would tilt his body to the side, allowing it to brush past before diverting its path. At first, it seemed that this strategy was proving effective, but as it dragged on several cracks were starting to show.
While it wasn’t obvious at first, Bradley’s aging body- when combined with his already grievous injuries- was starting to slow him down. During the first few tendrils, he had been able to divert them with no issue. Around the 20th, he had just barely reacted to the nearest one, and this mistake would soon prove to be his downfall.
From the shadows, Slade had watched as Bradley’s stamina continued to drain. Each tendril he shoved aside or cut down seemed to take a piece of him with them, and it was this latest screw-up that had elicited a smirk from beneath the merc’s mask. With a sharp tug, Deathstroke used the one tendril connecting itself to Bradley to knock his legs out from under him. With this new lack of balance, the Führer was sent tumbling to the ground, and the tendrils soon followed suit!
CHKCHKCHKCHKCHK!
Bradley suppressed a scream as the remaining tendrils wrapped themselves around him, their pointed edges digging into his skin. Deathstroke tightened his grip further and, almost as if sensing its master’s commands, the Godkiller contracted even further. Blood gushed out of the wounds, causing Bradley to cry out in pain as he dropped to his knees. He could feel himself growing more lightheaded as blood seeped from his body, and the ever-tightening grip on his restraints didn’t help. Fortunately, it seemed fate was on his side
”What’s your… plan here?” Bradley choked out as he looked toward Slade’s direction. “Are you trying… to split me to pieces?”
Deathstroke didn’t respond, instead allowing the tightened restraints to answer for him.
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint,” King began as his muscles strained against his bindings, “but I don’t die so easily!”
As these words left his mouth, Bradley- in what could only be described as an adrenaline-boosted state of determination- flexed both of his arms, effortlessly snapping the bindings in two. Rather than falling to the ground, however, they instead began flying back, all heading northwest. Though this briefly left him confused, Bradley proved quick to save face as he realized what this meant.
‘So that’s where you’re hiding!’ He realized, chucking the knife as hard as he could. The SPLONG of something bouncing off of metal filled his ears, followed by the sound of air currents rushing toward him.
[Stop music]
While his draining stamina had left him with little time to react, Bradley still managed to roll to the side, just barely avoiding the new weapon. At the same time, he felt the object- a golden shield- slice across his right cheek, producing a noticeable cut. He quickly brushed it aside, however, and turned his attention back to Slade.
”That’s quite the weapon you’ve got there. Turning it from a sword, to rope, and even a shield! It’s too bad you threw it away. Otherwise-“
CLANG! WHUMP!
Before he could even finish his taunt, the shield suddenly flew back, slamming into his ankles and knocking him off his feet. As the Führer fell flat on his ass, his eyes widened in surprise as he noticed a familiar shadow descending upon him. It was Deathstroke, currently holding the Godkiller- which was now back to its original state- above his head. For a brief moment it seemed that Bradley’s life was about to come to an end, but the Homunculus proved quick to respond as he rolled to the side. The golden sword clashed against the ground, creating a massive explosion of energy that kicked up another smokescreen. Unlike before, however, Bradley was the first to act!
Unsheathing his remaining knife, the leader of Amestris lunged forward, bursting through the smoke with his knife already in mid-swing. The blade was aimed to pierce straight through Slade’s neck, and it was quickly approaching its target. Just another nanosecond, and then-
SCHLICK!
Bradley’s triumphant grin contorted, his remaining eye shrinking in shock as he watched his remaining arm sail through the air, still gripping the knife in its hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Deathstroke’s arm already in mid-swing, and his leg muscles began to tense up in response. Then, in a sudden burst of strength, Bradley leapt through the air, causing the Godkiller to hit thin air. As he drew closer to the severed arm, Bradley twisted his body in midair, allowing him to backflip over the appendage. The moment his knife entered his line of sight, the Homunculus craned his neck down, grabbing its handle with his teeth and ripping it from the arm’s grip.
Landing on his feet, Bradley immediately turned toward Slade and lunged forward, tilting his head to the right as he drew closer. Deathstroke responded by leaping out of range, narrowly avoiding what would’ve been a mortal wound. Despite missing his first shot, Bradley began improvising as he threw himself at Slade and twisted his head to the left. The blade sailed toward the mercenary’s chin, but he responded by jumping back once again. A third attempt- this one a diagonal slash- quickly followed, which Slade answered by bringing his own sword down! A resounding CLANG echoed throughout the area, followed by a shower of sparks.
Both men stared at each other, unblinking as they gazed into their opponent’s hate-filled eyes for what felt like an eternity. This timeframe would soon end as Slade threw out a knee strike to the stomach, forcing Bradley to lurch over. Seeing a chance to end this, Wilson brought the Godkiller into the air, but just before he could bring it down, his adversary stared back up at him. Displayed in the Führer’s remaining eye was a burning fury, one that only grew as he watched the Godkiller slowly approach him.
In a desperate attempt to defy his fate, Bradley sprung up through the air, twisting his body to ensure the attack would miss. As the golden sword flew past him, King shifted his head to the right, forcing the knife’s tip to drag across Slade’s left arm. A grunt of pain began to emerge from Wilson’s throat, but it was quickly silenced as Wrath flipped through the air, following with a downward slash. The knife raked itself across Deathstroke’s chest, producing a sizable cut and forcing blood to erupt out of the wound. Another slash followed immediately after, leaving a bloody X across Slade’s chest. But even with the progress he was making, Bradley could feel the battle start to take its toll on him.
Although it was only a minor nuisance at first, the blood loss he’d suffered was starting to take its toll on him. His vision was starting to blur, and he could feel himself growing more lightheaded. His muscles ached from how much he was exerting himself, and it felt like his legs were about to give out at any second.
‘Don’t have much time left…’ he noted before looking back up at Deathstroke. ‘But even if it kills me, I will drag him down with me!’
With a roar of determination, Bradley lunged toward Slade, swinging his knife in every direction he could. Unfortunately, it seemed that this desperate berserker strategy wouldn’t meet his expectations. Every time Wrath swung his knife, Deathstroke would counter it with a parry, moving so swiftly and fluidly that it was almost as if he could see them coming! The repeated CLANG of their blades colliding echoed through King’s ears, only fueling his fury even further.
Deathstroke, meanwhile, smirked beneath his mask. It was clear from Bradley’s body language that his anger was growing, no doubt at his inability to land a hit. The moment this clash had started, Slade immediately realized what this was: a final attempt at making a last stand. The evidence was all on the table: the blood loss of his injuries was impairing his vision, not helped by his already missing eye. The relentlessness with how he swung the knife suggested that his mindset was becoming more frantic, almost like a cornered animal. It didn’t help that Bradley’s remaining eye seemed to be scanning him in-between attacks, as if searching for somewhere he could strike.
In most cases, the person on the receiving end of this assault would’ve been frightened. What stood before them was a man fueled purely by his adrenaline and rage, hellbent on making sure they were dead. Deathstroke, however, saw the Homunculus as something else: a pitiful, frail old man trying so desperately to fight for his life, not knowing that his opponent was playing him like a harp.
Every time Bradley moved his neck, Deathstroke would take a nanosecond to calculate where he was most likely to strike. Then, in conjunction with its wielder’s thoughts, the Godkiller would swing itself in the perfect position to counter, but not disarm. Not yet, anyway.
Five more CLANGs rang out through Bradley’s ears, causing his anger to rise even further. Then, as Deathstroke parried his latest slash, the Führer noticed something that caused his rage to hit its boiling point. It was brief, but in his remaining eye, he had caught of glimpse of Deathstroke smirking. That was why he wasn’t fighting back! He was playing Bradley for a fool!
’How dare you! HOW DARE YOU MAKE A MOCKERY OF ME!’ The Homunculus thought furiously. Then, with a roar that practically embodied his namesake, Wrath lunged toward Deathstroke, bringing his head down with as much force as he could muster!
SHING- SCHLUCK!
A scream of pain emerged from Deathstroke’s throat as he felt a sharp pain enter through his collarbone. Looking to the left, the mercenary saw what had caused it: Bradley had jammed the knife into a small, unarmored portion of his armor, and he didn’t plan on ending it there! Instead, the Homunculus began applying more pressure to his grip, forcing his weapon to tear through his adversary’s skin and muscles! It then plunged even further, sawing its way into the collarbone. The pain in Slade’s head began to grow even further, and with it so too did his scream. It was almost unbearable, but Deathstroke forced himself to push through, keeping a firm grip on the Godkiller. He looked Bradley straight in the eye and then, despite the pain that currently flared through his mind, he spoke.
”You…” Slade began to smirk before continuing. “You don’t even know how badly you’ve screwed up, do you?”
SHINK!
[Stop music]
Before Bradley could ask what he meant by that, a splitting pain shot through his stomach, forcing him to drop the knife as he coughed up blood. Looking down, he found the Godkiller embedded in his stomach, half of its blade drenched a deep crimson. Then, as if to further his adversary’s pain, Deathstroke swung his sword even higher, further splitting apart the front of Bradley’s torso. It was only once he approached the ribcage that Slade ended the assault, casually ripping the sword from Bradley’s body. For a brief moment the Führer stood in place, too paralyzed by the pain to move, but then he felt his knees start to buckle. And without the strength to keep himself upright, Bradley collapsed onto his back with an audible THUMP!
Several ragged breaths escaped his lips, but in-between each one he could make out the audible CLUNK of Slade’s armored boot hitting the ground. Looking up, he found himself staring up at Deathstroke, who returned the stare with a blank expression.
“So you’ve come to finish the job, then?” Bradley asked as he watched Slade crouch down, bringing the Godkiller up to the Homunculus’ throat. Bradley prepared to close his eyes, but he stopped when Slade asked him a sudden question.
“Do you have anything left to say before I go through with this?”
“There isn’t much I could say that you’d understand, I’m afraid.” Bradley admitted. “But I will say this: for most of my life, everything I went through had already been decided for me by the man who made me what I am today. Because of that, I enjoyed the few choices I was allowed to make. When I fought you, I could feel a sense of freedom, something I haven’t felt since the day I married my wife.”
As the old man continued speaking, Slade noticed that his appearance was starting to change. In-between each word he spoke, Bradley’s hair seemed to be slowly fading, its deep shade of black slowly fading to an almost silver shade of gray. Each word, meanwhile, would result in another wrinkle, though the Homunculus seemed to pay it no mind.
“I guess I should thank you, Slade.” Wrath admitted as he allowed a grateful smile to appear on his aging face. “Even without alchemy, you still managed to push me to my limits. You showed skill that I never thought I’d see on the battlefield. To meet my end at the hands of such an esteemed warrior… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
With these words spoken, the Führer closed his eyes one last time, and Deathstroke pushed his sword into the old man’s neck. An audible SCHLICK could be heard as it cut clean through Bradley, his head toppling to the ground with a soft THUNK!
[Stop music]
With his mission completed, Slade rose back to his feet and reached into his pocket, pulling out a flip phone. Quickly dialing a number, he brought the phone up to his ear, waiting for the ringtone to pass. Upon hearing the CLICK of someone picking up, the mercenary got straight to business.
“This is Slade. It’s done.” His contact asked him a question, and he proved quick to respond. “He was a harder target than I thought.” He admitted, looking over to the Führer’s corpse. “I’d hate to have fought him in his prime.”
The contact asked him a second question, and he responded by dismissively waving his hand through the air.
”No need for a medic. I’ve already got it covered. Just send someone out here to pick me up. We’ll discuss my pay when I get back.”
And with that one action, Deathstroke has just single-handedly flushed over 400 years of planning down the drain! Good luck trying to become God now, Father!
So here’s a spoiler: yes, this is another stomp. I’m honestly starting to get burnt out with how many of my fights are one-sided, but I doubt you guys are here to read my self-loathing criticisms, so let’s just move on.
When it came to strength, Bradley would be around Town Level, as he was able to overwhelm Scar, who could fight on par with Kimblee. When they fought each other, Kimblee possessed a Philosopher’s Stone, which boosted his alchemic power to the point where he could create explosions worth anywhere from 28 – 90 kilotons of TNT. By contrast, Deathstroke would also be Town Level due to taking attacks from Gunfire and being able to beat him with only a few punches. And since Gunfire uses mass-energy conversion, this means his attacks would come out in the kilotons. Additionally, Slade survived being crushed by a submarine and withstood the resulting explosion, which measures out at 32 kilotons. He was later shown to trade blows with Legacy, the guy who pulled off the above feat, so this would also scale to his strength.
Of course, strength doesn’t matter if you don’t have the speed to back it up. For Bradley, he’s been able to outspeed Scar and has avoided an explosion from Mustang’s Flame Alchemy. Assuming these explosions use nitroglycerin, this means that Bradley would need to react at around Mach 20, and keep in mind that he was heavily injured at this time, so he might be faster! Deathstroke, meanwhile, has a multitude of feats that put him above Bradley. He’s been shown to dodge Starfire’s Starbolts, which are made from concentrated solar energy, multiple times; kept up in battle with Batman; and was able to block an attack from Katana at close-range. Keep in mind that Katana has been shown to deflect gunfire multiple times, the results of which are all higher than Bradley dodging Mustang’s explosion. And for a final point, Cassandra Cain, who can react at Mach 501, admits that Deathstroke is faster than her.
In other words, even if we say Bradley’s stronger by scaling him to the higher end of Kimblee’s explosion, Deathstroke’s so much faster that it’s unlikely Bradley could land a killing blow. If this were the case, the match would ultimately come down to their other factors.
For example, experience is a bit hard to decide. While both have spent some time serving in their respective militaries, Bradley has been trained since birth in combat, which you think would give him an edge here. The only problem is that he spends most of his time in the office after becoming Führer, and would only start fighting again after Father’s plans were threatened. It’s true that he still displays some considerable skill, but it’s likely that his time leading the country could’ve led to his skills becoming somewhat dull. By contrast, Deathstroke’s years as a mercenary helped keep his senses sharp and allowed him to polish his strengths against opponents who were either stronger than him or possessed superpowers. Similarly, he would also have the edge in intelligence against Bradley. While King’s knowledge of military tactics and strategy could help him identify some of Deathstroke’s tactics, Slade has shown that he can easily manipulate other, equally tactical opponents and use their own strengths against them.
When comparing their fighting styles, Bradley’s battles with Greedling and Scar both showcased some impressive skill in martial arts, but Deathstroke held the advantage here due to just how many he had. He could use jiu-jitsu to counter Bradley’s blows, cut off his circulation, or snap his limbs. Karate could be used to wear him down, and his skill in ninjutsu gave him a sense of unpredictability that Bradley wouldn’t be able to account for.
When it came to weapons, Bradley’s swords and knives would make it more difficult for Slade in close-quarters, but other than that Slade had him beat here. His promethium sword is strong to cut through other swords with ease, can amputate Cyborg’s arm, and even pierce through Cyborg’s head. The Deathstroke holds similar properties, and it’s even been able to cut Superman. The energy lance could make it harder for Bradley to reach him, shoot beams of energy for long-range attacks, turn into eskrima sticks for better close-quarters, and he could electrify them to leave Bradley paralyzed. His various firearms would allow for better long-range options, and his explosives could allow for an edge in unpredictability. His promethium armor also gave him a number of edges, as it amplifies his strength, has plating to protect from Bradley’s blades, and its ability to absorb energy (which his swords also share) render the stick grenade useless. Granted, this is assuming Deathstroke doesn’t just outrun the grenade, or that the armor could even be damaged by it (which is unlikely, as it remained intact after the exploding submarine).
And keep in mind all of this was without bringing in the Godkiller. With this, Bradley’s chances of victory slip even further. Its shapeshifting gives Slade an edge in unpredictability, he can fire off blasts of energy for long-range combat, and he could control it telepathically in the event that he’s ever disarmed. Not to mention, its ability to control the user’s movements meant that, when combined with Slade’s other advantages, it would be able to end the fight in an instant.
And in case you’re wondering, no, Bradley’s Ultimate Eye wouldn’t be able to change anything. While on paper, its ability to read movements and sense things with precognition sound like they’d give him an advantage, Slade had multiple ways to bypass it:
-His superior speed would let him blitz Bradley before he could use it
-Stealth would make it harder for Bradley to track his movements
-Ninjutsu’s focus on stealth gave him an edge in unpredictability
-His superior intelligence and more strategic mind could let him pick up on the Ultimate Eye’s abilities and how to disable them
-He could use gas grenades or explosives to disorient Bradley
It also didn’t help Bradley’s case that Deathstroke would likely be familiar with these abilities due to fighting Cassandra Cain, who also has the ability to track movements, and he proved to be so unpredictable that she couldn’t keep track of him.
While there’s no doubt that Bradley was a badass in his own right, against Slade, he was just headed for a loss!
The winner is Deathstroke.
Deathstroke (Winner)
+ Stronger if Bradley is scaled to the low end of Kimblee’s explosions
+ Blitzed Bradley when it came to speed
+ More durable if Bradley is scaled to the low end of Kimblee’s explosions
+ More experienced
+ More intelligent
+ More strategic mind, to the point where he could manipulate Bradley in numerous ways
+ Mastery of various martial arts gave him an edge in close-quarters
+ Larger, more versatile arsenal
+ Better long-range options
+ Promethium armor and swords rendered Bradley’s arsenal useless, with the former lessening the possible strength gap
+ Godkiller could further boost his versatility and unpredictability
+ Its ability to damage the likes of Superman and Lapetus rendered the possible strength gap moot
+ Had numerous ways to bypass the Ultimate Eye
+ Has fought an opponent with similar powers to Bradley
– Weaker if Bradley is scaled to the high end of Kimblee’s explosions
+ But the promethium armor and Godkiller render this moot
– Not as durable if Bradley is scaled to the high end of Kimblee’s explosions
+ But his swords render this a non-issue
King Bradley (Loser)
+ Stronger if scaled to the high end of Kimblee’s explosions
– Which is countered by Deathstroke’s promethium armor and the Godkiller
+ More durable if scaled to the high end of Kimblee’s explosions
– Which is rendered moot by Deathstroke’s swords
– Everything else
![King.Bradley.full.1802266[1] by Dynamo1212](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6b232c6b-913f-4340-8f47-1f0f87e50c62/d9zxg3w-e8cfa31e-278d-4950-8b73-094719564eae.jpg/v1/fit/w_300,h_900,q_70,strp/king_bradley_full_1802266_1__by_dynamo1212_d9zxg3w-300w.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9OTAyIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvNmIyMzJjNmItOTEzZi00MzQwLThmNDctMWYwZjg3ZTUwYzYyXC9kOXp4ZzN3LWU4Y2ZhMzFlLTI3OGQtNDk1MC04YjczLTA5NDcxOTU2NGVhZS5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9NzAwIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.IDPB1kQr69t_4XED4zB993_k9J-8Rj4lTcQoIrR_cHg "King.Bradley.full.1802266[1] by Dynamo1212")
![Nlblog[1] by Dynamo1212](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6b232c6b-913f-4340-8f47-1f0f87e50c62/d9zxhpc-53989404-bc58-4f2a-aac0-05a70e8d4942.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzZiMjMyYzZiLTkxM2YtNDM0MC04ZjQ3LTFmMGY4N2U1MGM2MlwvZDl6eGhwYy01Mzk4OTQwNC1iYzU4LTRmMmEtYWFjMC0wNWE3MGU4ZDQ5NDIuZ2lmIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.luzHSqT_vSvzfGfOOCjM3RHotUS4He9xJaZyXBrq6Ys "Nlblog[1] by Dynamo1212")
![Ecd5bda49ab6d8c178e5abf6d666d6db182764a6 Hq[1] by Dynamo1212](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6b232c6b-913f-4340-8f47-1f0f87e50c62/d9zxhon-b6b040e9-90db-41fa-87b2-e723246e6a0d.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzZiMjMyYzZiLTkxM2YtNDM0MC04ZjQ3LTFmMGY4N2U1MGM2MlwvZDl6eGhvbi1iNmIwNDBlOS05MGRiLTQxZmEtODdiMi1lNzIzMjQ2ZTZhMGQuZ2lmIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.AeRpHU-06amNAcHjOgRDn6dfHYm9TPV0Zb3pYYeLGV0 "Ecd5bda49ab6d8c178e5abf6d666d6db182764a6 Hq[1] by Dynamo1212")
![FMA57Bradley-Fu-Buccaneer1-b[1] by Dynamo1212](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6b232c6b-913f-4340-8f47-1f0f87e50c62/d9zxhl3-2eead75e-2f98-496f-8d86-0f587cc5b0d9.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzZiMjMyYzZiLTkxM2YtNDM0MC04ZjQ3LTFmMGY4N2U1MGM2MlwvZDl6eGhsMy0yZWVhZDc1ZS0yZjk4LTQ5NmYtOGQ4Ni0wZjU4N2NjNWIwZDkuanBnIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ec_OWGd03cNQUxI0TyXx3bdqWEm4OZzTJ3pTUOJNxH0 "FMA57Bradley-Fu-Buccaneer1-b[1] by Dynamo1212")
![Inhyuk-lee-[1] by Dynamo1212](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6b232c6b-913f-4340-8f47-1f0f87e50c62/d9zxg9r-7dffa576-97f4-4007-a784-877a67d12d8b.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzZiMjMyYzZiLTkxM2YtNDM0MC04ZjQ3LTFmMGY4N2U1MGM2MlwvZDl6eGc5ci03ZGZmYTU3Ni05N2Y0LTQwMDctYTc4NC04NzdhNjdkMTJkOGIuanBnIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.sMJdRdn-EKAOjnQeOMIY9grgw1Qgot02sBfbYo5VUtk "Inhyuk-lee-[1] by Dynamo1212")
![Model24[1] by Dynamo1212](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6b232c6b-913f-4340-8f47-1f0f87e50c62/dadce8j-870b1024-9d3b-4a40-b465-e35843949cac.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzZiMjMyYzZiLTkxM2YtNDM0MC04ZjQ3LTFmMGY4N2U1MGM2MlwvZGFkY2U4ai04NzBiMTAyNC05ZDNiLTRhNDAtYjQ2NS1lMzU4NDM5NDljYWMucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.HUb2mJADk02AvjOdg4zYvGboMHmuZVl3mz0JKJaTtT4 "Model24[1] by Dynamo1212")
![3994254-3773304-5997267722-35553[1] by Dynamo1212](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6b232c6b-913f-4340-8f47-1f0f87e50c62/daeetvy-3618601d-0670-4638-a5b0-39141dd51375.gif?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzZiMjMyYzZiLTkxM2YtNDM0MC04ZjQ3LTFmMGY4N2U1MGM2MlwvZGFlZXR2eS0zNjE4NjAxZC0wNjcwLTQ2MzgtYTViMC0zOTE0MWRkNTEzNzUuZ2lmIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.oov25wwbDphyP1-pkQTXHQQY2aLZYw3KwVSRoydQeEc "3994254-3773304-5997267722-35553[1] by Dynamo1212")
![Maxresdefault[1] by Dynamo1212](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6b232c6b-913f-4340-8f47-1f0f87e50c62/d9zxgdv-49276c0c-93ec-48cd-989a-71ca357d31bf.jpg/v1/fill/w_1024,h_576,q_75,strp/maxresdefault_1__by_dynamo1212_d9zxgdv-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NTc2IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvNmIyMzJjNmItOTEzZi00MzQwLThmNDctMWYwZjg3ZTUwYzYyXC9kOXp4Z2R2LTQ5Mjc2YzBjLTkzZWMtNDhjZC05ODlhLTcxY2EzNTdkMzFiZi5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTAyNCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19._h4koy9HRX9Z4MXDs57kYsG-jQaUUSDvHDcxhcE5-rA "Maxresdefault[1] by Dynamo1212")
![tumblr lyd8b8LpkL1r3tgtmo1 500[1] by Dynamo1212](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6b232c6b-913f-4340-8f47-1f0f87e50c62/d9zxh6f-c38a3b1b-b5b0-4e82-9b0e-7100eb68b349.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzZiMjMyYzZiLTkxM2YtNDM0MC04ZjQ3LTFmMGY4N2U1MGM2MlwvZDl6eGg2Zi1jMzhhM2IxYi1iNWIwLTRlODItOWIwZS03MTAwZWI2OGIzNDkuanBnIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.539KaVwWsI24_rajuU0XCL30lieJfIidCJDoI1qHs44 "tumblr lyd8b8LpkL1r3tgtmo1 500[1] by Dynamo1212")
![61 Wrath2[1] by Dynamo1212](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6b232c6b-913f-4340-8f47-1f0f87e50c62/d9zxgb6-51435dc2-885a-4b4b-95eb-503f614a7e1d.png/v1/fill/w_1024,h_640,q_80,strp/61_wrath2_1__by_dynamo1212_d9zxgb6-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9NjQwIiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvNmIyMzJjNmItOTEzZi00MzQwLThmNDctMWYwZjg3ZTUwYzYyXC9kOXp4Z2I2LTUxNDM1ZGMyLTg4NWEtNGI0Yi05NWViLTUwM2Y2MTRhN2UxZC5wbmciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTAyNCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.HzNo9yvNtlTHN3GgtLF1A19GR50hPCSFfuW7uSNXqDI "61 Wrath2[1] by Dynamo1212")
Expert Tactician:
Brendan’s Versus Battles 
