Trigon studied the human before him, uncertain of his purpose. The man's reputation preceded him, and it left little room for trust. Should he crush him immediately, or listen?
While he considered it, Constantine stepped forward without hesitation. He leaned in, bringing the cigarette between his lips close to the hellfire burning across Trigon's body, and lit it directly from the flames. He inhaled deeply, as if savoring the moment.
"What do you want?" Trigon lowered himself slightly, his voice carrying immense authority.
"I have information about Rachel," Constantine replied, direct and unbothered.
Trigon straightened, a trace of amusement crossing his face. "And why would you tell me that?"
"Because I know you've been making deals," Constantine said casually. "Deals with entities in Hell. Somewhere along the way, you acquired a fragment of my soul."
He took another drag before continuing. "I do not know how you got involved with those creatures, but I will say this, they are not trustworthy. You should be careful."
"You are correct," Trigon answered evenly. "That fragment belongs to me. And from what I can tell, you are hardly more trustworthy than they are."
Constantine shrugged. "Fair enough. Still, I am curious. Can you actually trade a soul that is still inside someone else? These contracts, honestly, they are not worth the blood used to sign them. Yet you demons treat them like treasures."
Ignoring the darkening expression on Trigon's face, he went on, "So what is the mechanism? Do you claim it all at once, or is it collected in installments? Weekly, perhaps?"
"Enough." Trigon's voice cut through the air.
He lowered his head, his presence pressing down like a storm. "All you need to understand is this, Constantine. I will enjoy tormenting you for a thousand years."
Constantine showed no fear. He exhaled smoke and spoke as if discussing the weather. "You might want to reconsider your priorities. There is something out there, something powerful, and it is targeting those connected to magic. Rachel is one of them. She assists Adrian."
That caught Trigon's full attention.
He leaned closer, all six eyes fixed on Constantine. "What is it?"
Despite his resentment toward Adrian, the memory of their clash still burned in his mind. Years ago, in San Francisco, even a mere projection of himself had been utterly defeated. The humiliation lingered.
Adrian had been an unknown then, an anomaly that defied understanding. That uncertainty had been intolerable.
Yet after witnessing Adrian's battle with Hal Jordan, possessed by Parallax, Trigon's perception had shifted. Adrian was no longer an unknown quantity. His power carried a strange weight, something even Trigon found unsettling.
There was a reluctant acknowledgment now. Rachel's presence at Adrian's side might not be entirely unfavorable. Adrian would protect her. And one day, Trigon would reclaim what was his.
But not by allowing another force to interfere.
His patience snapped. He seized Constantine by the collar and lifted him effortlessly into the air.
"Tell me," he demanded.
"I do not know yet," Constantine managed, his voice strained as the fabric tightened around his neck. "But when I find out, you will act, right?"
"I do not trust you, magician."
Constantine sighed. "Demons and trust issues, how predictable."
Trigon's grip tightened. "Have you finished mocking me?"
Constantine remained composed. "You and I both know you cannot harm me. Not physically. You signed that contract."
"For now," Trigon replied coldly.
He held him for a moment longer before asking again, "Why tell me this?"
Constantine smirked faintly. "You said you would torment me for a thousand years. Maybe I am trying to earn a lighter sentence."
Trigon released him without warning. "Find the entity threatening my daughter. Do not return until you have answers."
His massive form began to fade, dissolving into the surrounding flames.
In the next instant, Constantine was back on Earth.
He stood within Beppo's cluttered room, the magic circle still glowing faintly beneath his feet, candles flickering around its edges.
He checked himself briefly, then let out a quiet scoff. "Idiot."
"Watch your step," Beppo warned immediately. "If you knock over a candle, this place goes up in flames."
Far away, at the Kent Farm in Smallville, Adrian stood in his room, holding a glass of milk. He preferred it over coffee when he was home. The quiet of the farm offered a rare sense of normalcy.
His thoughts lingered on the dream he had just experienced.
The sky in that dream had been choked with swirling yellow dust. The air felt dry and suffocating, the horizon swallowed by dark clouds. It was a wasteland, vast and lifeless.
A figure stood atop the dunes.
Batman.
The resemblance to Bruce Wayne was unmistakable, from his build to the design of the suit. As he moved across the sand, the full scope of the devastation came into view.
A city lay buried beneath layers of dust and ruin, its structures eroded and broken, like something abandoned for centuries.
Batman descended the slope and approached an open area surrounded by rusted shipping containers.
Moments later, a plume of dust rose in the distance.
Military trucks emerged through the haze, covered in sand and fitted with tarpaulins. They came to a halt before him.
Several figures disembarked, their bodies wrapped tightly against the relentless storm, faces concealed. More followed from the other vehicles, spreading out with practiced precision, securing the perimeter.
Batman advanced toward one of them.
"Did you get it?" he asked.
The masked man nodded. "We did. It was not easy."
He signaled, and the rear container was opened.
Inside, a metal box sat secured in place.
Batman leaped onto the truck bed as the group opened it. A faint, unusual glow spilled out, casting distorted reflections into the air.
From his detached perspective within the dream, Adrian felt a flicker of curiosity.
Could it be kryptonite? Something meant to counter him?
He dismissed the thought. He was not Clark Kent, and such a weakness did not define him.
Still, the object drew his attention.
Batman stood still, completely focused on the contents. The metal inside emitted an eerie light, almost as if it disturbed the space around it.
He took a measured step back.
Beside him, the masked leader removed his covering, revealing a weathered face marked by years of hardship. He joined Batman in studying the object in silence.
Just as Adrian tried to focus more clearly on it, the dream collapsed.
His awareness snapped back to reality.
He stood in his room once more.
Rachel walked in, rubbing her eyes, her voice heavy with fatigue. "I did not sleep well."
She looked at Adrian. "I had a dream too, brother."
===
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