Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics Chapter 5674 - 4698: Death-Defying Escape (31)

"Batman, I'm about to push the cage now. Can you hold your ground?" Superman's voice carried a hint of trepidation, his posture tense as he adjusted his stance, clearly searching for a method to apply pressure without causing Batman to collide with the cage's reinforcing bars.

Batman, with his legs spread and leaning against the cage's diagonal support, crossed his arms. He met Superman's gaze and declared, "Have faith in my stability."

Superman's confidence seemed shaky. As his hand made contact with the bars, a jolt of electricity coursed through him. His focus had been entirely on Batman's reaction, and the delayed shock made him cry out. Yet, he maintained his grip.

"Clark, Clark!" Batman called out, his voice firm, until Superman finally refocused. "Stop doing that, Clark," Batman stated, a note of weariness entering his tone. "We need to execute a single, powerful push."

"How can you ask me to inflict harm on you in such a manner? It's utterly inhumane!" Superman's frustration was evident, directed not at Batman, but at the devious architect of the checkpoint, harboring what appeared to be a long-standing resentment.

Superman, a figure of unwavering courage, consistently brought villains to justice. However, the specific brand of malevolence required to inflict suffering upon others seemed to demand a talent far beyond that of dispensing justice. Not only did Superman lack this particular aptitude, but he also felt a profound, innate revulsion towards it.

His arms began to tremble, but gritting his teeth, he remained silent. He understood that Batman was depending on him in this moment. As the pillar of support, he could not afford to display any sign of weakness, a quality Batman himself so rarely exhibited.

Silently, within his mind, he repeated a mantra: *This is merely to overcome the challenge, not my intent. Batman will not be truly injured.* Superman appeared to be reluctantly persuading himself, his reluctance manifesting in the agonizingly slow, almost dreamlike pace at which he began to push the cage.

Gripping the lower section of the cage bars with both hands, he commenced a slow, deliberate push in a single direction. The action resembled an arduous lifting more than a forceful shove, though the combined force of the chains did offer some assistance; the immense effort was primarily his own.

The continuous electrical currents coursing through the cage made the endeavor visibly agonizing for him. Each successive shock caused his entire body to convulse, resulting in a constant, uncontrollable shudder. His skin began to develop an unnatural flush.

"That's sufficient, Clark," Batman commanded sharply. "Cease this! Stop immediately. You only need to perform one push!"

Superman seemed oblivious to Batman's urgent pleas, much like in instances where he disregarded Batman's directives. Instead, he resorted to a surge of raw power, pushing forward with all his might. Regrettably, the momentum was far too sluggish, completely undermining the intended 'exhaustion' strategy.

Batman glanced down at the rising water level, which now lapped perilously close to the lower support platform. At this rate, he mused, adhering to the standard procedure might be the only viable recourse. It seemed their options were dwindling.

Widening his stance further, Batman no longer concerned himself if his feet made contact with the bars. He extended his arms, securing his grip on the outermost bars. Combining the power of his stance with a sudden exertion of force, he began to swing, much like one would on a playground swing.

Indeed, this particular mechanism could also be activated by the occupant within the cage. That was the ingenious aspect of its design. Before the water level rose significantly, the individual inside could employ the exhaustion method, swinging rhythmically. This approach would ensure that only one person endured the electrical shocks.

This was precisely the method Thor had employed. He had positioned Loki to one side, entered the cage himself, secured the door, and commenced swinging. Loki found himself utterly speechless.

It wasn't that he refrained from intervening; he simply lacked the means to stop Thor. Every attempt met with Thor's unyielding grip holding him at bay. Within the confines of the cage, his manipulative spells were rendered useless, and any attempt at persuasion proved equally futile, leaving him truly powerless.

Loki grew increasingly frustrated, to the point where he harbored a secret wish to witness Thor shrieking in agony from the electrical shocks. Yet, whether Thor had become desensitized to the pain or was stoically enduring it without a sound, he continued his swinging motion within the cage as if entirely unaffected.

Conversely, this stoicism only amplified Loki's distress. He turned away, facing the wall, unwilling for Thor to witness his burgeoning tears. Then, abruptly, Thor let out a loud yelp. Loki instinctively turned back, only for Thor to yelp once more. Following this, Thor offered him a smile.

"You relish seeing me like this, don't you? Every time your schemes succeed, and I cry out or fall into your traps, you celebrate with glee," Thor remarked, a smile playing on his lips, though a slight tremble was visible in his arm. "Even though this particular predicament wasn't orchestrated by you, you could still find amusement rather than sorrow."

Loki stood frozen, utterly bewildered. He was at a loss for words, unsure how to respond, his tears continuing to fall uncontrollably.

"You're finished, Thor," Loki managed to say, wiping his eyes. "When we return, I shall inform both Frigga and Odin of your actions. You've sealed your fate..."

"Regardless of everything, I can assure you I've brought you more laughter than tears," Thor continued his swinging. "Frigga and Odin are well aware of this fact, so they are unlikely to take any drastic action. You, however, might want to reconsider mentioning this when Frigga learns that you nearly met your end impaled on steel needles..."

"You can’t tell her," Loki declared, his voice rising. "When we went out, Frigga explicitly stated you must obey me. If I say you can’t tell, then you absolutely cannot tell!"

Suddenly, Thor applied more force, sending the cage plummeting into the left wall. With an audible "click," the door swung open directly. Thor tumbled out, momentarily dazed, while Loki stood stunned. Then, the cage’s chains began to constrict, and the entire structure started its ascent.

Thor, after confirming the cage bars were not electrified, waved to Loki. "Come on, we must be on the right track," he urged.

As Thor pulled Loki to the cage’s apex, Loki remained in a state of shock. It wasn’t until the disc overhead retracted, revealing an opening, and the cage ascended like an elevator towards it that realization dawned: Thor's luck was astonishingly good. The disc featured eight locking positions, requiring three specific directional swings to unlock. Thor swung a mere four times, correctly guessing all but the initial attempt. What kind of preposterous fortune was this?

"Do you comprehend the most crucial attribute for a commander on the battlefield?" Thor inquired, shaking the water from his hair. "It is neither wisdom nor valor, but sheer luck. Had my luck been poor, I would surely be deceased by now."

Loki had no retort. Was he not acutely aware of Thor’s exceptional luck? All of Asgard knew the World Tree favored him, invariably transforming misfortune into good fortune and peril into opportunity. Even after his banishment to Earth, he managed to gather a motley crew of companions. Despite facing numerous adversities, he rarely encountered true mortal danger, all thanks to his remarkable luck.

"Our luck is far from stellar," Pamela commented, shaking her head. "We’ve tried every direction, yet haven’t hit upon the correct sequence. The water is nearly upon you. Might you descend for now?"

"What if the mechanism deactivates once I step down?" Harley questioned. "It’s probably best to assume the level designer intended maximum malice and avoid unnecessary risks."

Pamela found herself with no alternative but to continue manipulating the cage. Their luck was truly abysmal. The three required positions were not sequential; they demanded precise activation. Success hinged on hitting those exact three points, with absolutely no room for error.

Typically, an individual within the cage would proceed with extreme caution during each manipulation. Otherwise, they risked a shock for no reason. In this instance, however, they wouldn't be shocked at all, allowing them to push indiscriminately on various points, which unfortunately resulted in a significantly slower progression toward a solution.

Fortunately, Pamela’s approach grew more circumspect, and she began pushing in accordance with the room’s angles. The room's crosshairs and diagonals conveniently delineated eight distinct directions, which she systematically tested. With a definitive "click," the cage door disengaged, and the entire structure commenced a slow, upward journey.

Pamela confirmed the cage was safe, devoid of any electrical current, and then entered, calling out to Harley, "Get up here—"

"No, I won’t be ascending," Harley stated. "From this specific angle, I might be able to observe more." She continued, "Did you forget the figure we glimpsed through that narrow aperture? We didn’t get a clear view last time, so I must catch their error this time around."

As the cage gradually ascended, Harley positioned herself hanging beneath it. Logically, her perspective was not significantly altered from a normal standing position. However, she executed a daring maneuver: looping her legs around the cage’s bars, releasing her hands, and allowing her body to dangle downwards. This unusual posture enabled her to observe the area from below, looking upward.

And indeed, her unique vantage point revealed something significant.

As the cage ascended like an elevator, it traversed the floor of the level above. While the structure of the floor passed by, the surrounding tunnel remained entirely obscured. Consequently, viewing from above offered no insight into the specific architectural details. Only through Harley’s unconventional method, peering from below, did she discern an opening where the disc's stationary mount obstructed the tunnel, aligning with the floor level's side structure, thus providing a downward-facing glimpse into the interior.

Coincidentally, a faint flicker emanated from within that gap. Harley remained silent this time, holding her breath. As the cage continued its slow ascent, she intently focused through the opening.

One, two, three, four, five, six...

Harley gently placed a hand over her mouth. Once the cage reached its destination, she dropped from above and whispered to Pamela, "I just spotted a hidden passage, and individuals were traversing it. Six of them."

Pamela’s hair bristled with alarm. "Are you absolutely certain you weren’t mistaken?"

"Without a doubt. I didn’t just see fleeting shadows; I observed actual people. They were moving along the passage, seemingly heading upwards..."

Harley herself felt a tremor of apprehension. That sighting was undeniably unsettling. Despite her often eccentric behavior, she was no stranger to fear, especially when confronting horror scenarios. Unlike individuals more perturbed by sudden jump scares, Harley, with her exceptionally imaginative and active mind, harbored a deeper dread of psychological horror. The scene she had just witnessed certainly qualified as such.

At this moment, Pamela posed a critical inquiry: "Do you believe observing them is integral to the narrative?"

Harley responded with a shake of her head, "That opening doesn't appear to be specially crafted; it seems more like an incomplete border. Its shape is rather peculiar, and it's not distinct. Furthermore, if it were intentionally designed, one wouldn't need to adopt such an unusual stance to see through it, would they? If you were to ask me, apart from myself, perhaps only Dick could have managed it. Batman would find it difficult; his thigh muscles are considerably robust."

Pamela considered this, stating, "If it's not an intentionally designed scene for peeking, then the Dojo Administrator might have missed it during the level's creation. It should be regarded as an unintentional disclosure."

"What do you surmise those five individuals are engaged in?"

"They couldn't possibly be cleaners or repair personnel, firstly, as they aren't equipped with tools, and secondly, what task would require five people for repairs? It's also unlikely they're apprehending a fugitive, wouldn't you agree?"

"That's difficult to determine, but what if the fugitive in question is Batman?"

"Regardless, let's proceed to the subsequent level for now. This vital piece of information will undoubtedly prove beneficial."