"Are you alright?" Diana asked with genuine concern.
If anyone uninformed saw Dane at that moment, they might mistake him for a deranged lunatic. He was holding a bloody heart in his hand, his face and body smeared with blood.
Diana suddenly remembered that Dane had only become a "god" a little over a year ago. He likely hadn't faced anything this bloody before.
Her gentle voice startled him from his thoughts. He blinked, then turned to her with a smile. "Don't worry, I'm fine."
"Really? If you feel uncomfortable, you can talk to me," Diana replied, studying his expression.
"It's fine… But actually, there is something I need to ask of you," Dane admitted, his smile softening.
Diana chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Alright, let me know if you need anything."
Reassured by her support, Dane turned his attention back to the demon's heart. He began casting a spell, something that would have been a challenge for him before gaining the power of death. But now, it was second nature.
He thrust his fingers into the heart as if reaching into another dimension. With a subtle twist, he pulled out a translucent, weeping spirit—the soul of a little girl.
Using his divine power, Dane soothed her trembling heart. After some thought, he realized her memories of being held captive by the demon would only cause her pain.
He cast an amnesia spell, washing away all traces of her harrowing experience.
"Go back," he said gently, "go back to your parents."
The girl's soul floated upward and vanished.
------
In London, Tracey's body trembled on her hospital bed. Beside her, a triangular necklace around her neck began to glow with a soft blue light, which soon brightened intensely.
Chas and Renee, who had been keeping vigil by her side, leapt to their feet in shock and called for the Nightmare Nurse.
The nurse inspecting Tracey. "Don't worry. There's no trace of black magic here," she assured them.
As soon as she spoke, the glowing necklace flashed brightly once more before fading completely and the necklace itself vanished.
But then Tracey's eyelids fluttered open. She looked around weakly and murmured, "Dad? Mom?"
Chas and Renee rushed to her bedside, tears streaming down their faces. They held their daughter tightly, their emotions overwhelming them.
"Thank God, she's finally awake!" Renee sobbed.
"My Tracy…" Chas whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
In the background, the Nightmare Nurse watched with a soft smile on her lips. Quietly, she slipped away, leaving the family to their joyous reunion.
"You've done well, Johnny," the Nightmare Nurse muttered under her breath, a hint of admiration in her voice. With a soft sigh, she stepped through a shimmering portal and returned to Hell, her task complete.
Outside the haunted manor, Batman stood vigilant, his sharp eyes scanning the now-silent manor. The eerie movements and unholy screams that had echoed earlier had ceased.
"It's over?" Batman asked as he saw the house fall quiet, his gravelly voice tinged with skepticism.
Constantine, standing nearby with his trademark smirk, took a long drag from his cigarette. He exhaled slowly, savoring the moment before replying, "Ah, yeah, it's over. No demons, no devils. Just a job well done."
Batman turned to him, with a glimmer of respect. "You impressed me today, Constantine."
Constantine raised his chin, snorting with mock arrogance. "'Course I did. I'm John Constantine, mate."
The Trojan Horse plan - It hadn't been an easy task. The five demons that had conspired to challenge Nilgai couldn't enter its territory directly—they needed a way inside. That's when Constantine had come up with the plan.
"I'll be the Trojan horse," he had proposed, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
The idea was as bold as it was dangerous: he would allow the demons to possess his body and smuggle them into Nilgai's domain. The plan wasn't without its risks. The greatest danger wasn't discovery—it was the corrosive power of the demonic entities within him.
Like the Seven Deadly Sins of legend, the demons had tempted and tormented Constantine relentlessly, trying to corrupt him. To everyone's surprise, Constantine, the man known for his vices and questionable morality, had kept his resolve.
Batman had initially opposed the plan, offering to take on the role himself. But Constantine had countered with a grim smirk and a solid argument: "Beroul would kill you on sight. Me? I've got the stink of hell all over me. I can play their game."
Maybe Dane was right, Batman thought. he might just deserve a spot on the JL.
--------
Moments later, Dane and Diana emerged from the burning manor, their silhouetted against the roaring flames. The haunted house, now engulfed in fire, would serve as its own purification.
Constantine grinned as he saw them approach. "Boss, I'm in your organization now, yeah? But we haven't talked about the salary yet!"
Dane glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Salary? We're a non-profit organization, John. No income, completely voluntary labor."
Constantine's grin faltered. His last cigarette fell from his fingers, and he scrambled to pick it up, brushing off the ash. "Wait, wait, you mean—"
"Relax," Dane interrupted, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "All reasonable expenses can be reimbursed."
Constantine perked up slightly. "Reasonable, eh? What counts as reasonable?"
"No porn, no gambling, no drugs," Dane clarified bluntly. "Smoking and drinking? Limited. But any damage caused during a mission? Fully covered."
Constantine stared at the cigarette in his hand, suddenly uncertain. "So… you're saying I'll have to pay for my own smokes and booze from now on?"
Dane patted him on the shoulder with mock solemnity. "Smoking and excessive drinking are bad for your health, mate."
With that, Dane pulled a contract from his coat and handed it to Constantine. "Sign here. Once you do, you're officially one of us."
Constantine glanced at the contract, then back at Dane. His gut told him there was something oddly binding about this agreement, but he shrugged it off. With a flourish, he scrawled his signature across the bottom.
"Welcome aboard," Dane said with a grin.
As the haunted manor crumbled behind them, Constantine muttered to himself, "What the hell did I just get myself into?"
After the incident, Constantine still believed in the Justice League's mission and ideals. Despite their flaws, they stood for something greater, something he could get behind without hesitation.
At least, that's what he told himself. As he shuffled out of the manor, head bowed in thought, Constantine feel a bit deflated. He'd expected to hit the jackpot, thinking Dane was some rich benefactor who'd bankroll his vices. Instead, he found himself still responsible for paying for his cigarettes and whiskey.
But there was a silver lining. Dane had promised that any magic materials Constantine needed for spells or mystical practices would be fully reimbursed.
It was an enticing offer, though Constantine hesitated. His dark magic had always come with a cost—a heavy, often painful one. He had long avoided using it recklessly, knowing the misfortune it brought.
Dane, however, seemed oddly encouraging, almost as if he didn't see the dangers.
What Constantine didn't realize was that Dane not only understood the risks but had already taken measures to shield him from them. Using the divine authority of his death god, Dane had placed a "blessing" on Constantine.
Of course, in the world of Aztec gods, this "blessing" was closer to a curse.
Within the Americas, Constantine would no longer suffer the usual consequences of using dark magic. The misfortune that typically followed would be nullified, and no dark force could claim his life. His soul was now bound—locked, in fact—to the power of Death itself.
Even beyond this world, Constantine's soul was off-limits to any other mysterious forces.
What Constantine didn't know—and likely never would—was just how "insidious" Dane's plan truly was.
The contract Constantine had signed wasn't just a legal agreement; it was also a magical pact with rock of eternity. Hidden in the fine print, etched subtly along the edges of the document, was an ancient and binding spell.
Unbeknownst to him, Constantine had effectively "sold" his soul to Dane.
In the future, if any demon dared to claim Constantine's soul, they'd find themselves up against Dane's wrath. And Dane wouldn't hesitate to unleash cruelty that even demons couldn't fathom.
After all, Dane's connection to the Aztec pantheon wasn't just ceremonial. It was absolute. If anyone tried to claim Constantine, Dane would "cut them along the network cable," so to speak.
For now, though, Constantine remained blissfully unaware of his predicament, simply grumbling about the need to fund his own vices.
"50 power stones for a bonus chapter."
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