Even in slumber, Liam found no peace.
His mind was a battlefield, consumed by a vision of fire and fury. A black-horned demon
stood amidst an endless sea of writhing monstrosities, its towering frame unshaken as
countless demons threw themselves at it. Their screeches tore through the infernal air,
their claws raking at its armor, but it did not falter.
The demon—the warrior—moved like a tempest, carving through the horde with raw,
unrelenting power. A massive sword, ancient and cruel, cleaved through flesh and bone
with every swing. The ground trembled under its might, and the very flames of Hell
seemed to part before it.
And then, for the briefest moment, the demon turned.
Its gaze pierced through the chaos, through the dream itself—directly at Liam.
The world twisted.
Then
Liam woke up screaming.
His body lurched forward, drenched in cold sweat, his breath ragged as his heart
pounded like a war drum. The dim glow of the nightlight barely illuminated the small,
dusty room.
And then
"Man, did you get molested in that dream, or what?"
Liam groaned, running a shaky hand through his damp hair. "Sparda… what the hell
was that?"
"You tell me, kid. Looked like a fun time to me. Oh, and by the way—what the fuck took
you so long? You've been sleeping for two days."
Liam froze. "Wait… what?"
He snatched his phone from the nightstand, fingers fumbling to turn it on. The screen lit
up.
May 10 th .
"Two days…" His voice was barely above a whisper.
His eyes flicked to his notifications—nothing. No missed calls. No messages. It was as if
he had disappeared, and no one even noticed.
Sparda chuckled, voice laced with its usual smugness.
"Wow. Two days, and no one gave a shit. You have the social presence of a mosquito,
kid. Why are you surprised?"
Liam clenched his jaw but said nothing. He threw off the covers and pushed himself off
the bed, stretching out his stiff limbs. His body felt... different. Stronger. More solid.
Stumbling into the bathroom, he flicked on the light and stared into the mirror.
His breath hitched.
He had always been fit—lean, athletic. But now? His muscles looked denser, his frame
more defined. Not overly bulky, but sharper, like a blade honed to perfection.
And then there was his hair. He leaned in closer. Among the usual dark strands, streaks
of pale white had begun to emerge.
"What the hell…?"
Sparda's voice hummed lazily.
"That's just the demonic energy flowing into you. Relax, you're not turning into some
kind of abomination. If anything, you should be thanking me."
Liam ran a hand through his hair, still processing. "So, what? You're saying you made
me a better man?"
"Exactly. And now that you're done admiring yourself—get the fuck out. That
Constantine guy's been pacing in and out for hours. You should go down before he
starts doing something stupid."
Liam exhaled sharply, gripping the sink as the weight of everything settled onto his
shoulders. The dream, the changes, the reality of his situation.
No turning back now.
First Impressions and Unanswered Questions
Liam took a deep breath, adjusted his clothes, and stepped out of his room. His
muscles still felt tense from the dream—or vision—he'd had, but there was no time to
dwell on it now. He made his way downstairs, where the ever-familiar sight of John
Constantine greeted him.
But it wasn't just John this time.
Standing beside him was a woman whose presence was impossible to mistake—long,
raven-black hair cascading down her shoulders, piercing blue eyes that carried both
wisdom and danger. Her very aura was intoxicating, a blend of mystery and power.
Zatanna Zatara.
Liam smirked as he approached.
John was the first to speak, smirking in his signature way. "The sleeping beauty finally
graces us with his presence. I asked Etrigan to give you a kiss in hopes of waking you
up—looks like it worked."
Liam rolled his eyes. "Good one, John. But you still haven't gotten me back for roasting
you much worse the other day."
John opened his mouth to respond, but Liam didn't give him the chance.
He turned toward Zatanna with a dramatic bow. "This level of elegance and beauty is
unmistakable. It is an honor to meet you in person, Lady Zatanna."
Silence.
John's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, while Sparda's voice rang through Liam's mind
like a blaring alarm.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOMINATION YOU JUST CONDUCTED USING
YOUR FILTHY MOUTH?!"
Liam ignored the sword's outburst.
Zatanna, to his relief, smiled. "And you must be Liam. John told me a few things about
you, but he failed to mention you were such a gentleman."
Liam smirked. "Don't believe anything that fool tells you. Any man who doesn't
appreciate beauty like yours is clearly a madman."
John, still recovering from the sheer absurdity of what just happened, blinked before
shaking his head. Then, in his usual tone, he muttered, "I apologize, mate. I was not
familiar with your game."
Then his expression turned serious. "Now, let's get to business. You never did explain
how you know so much about us."
Liam tensed. He had to think fast—he couldn't exactly tell them the truth.
"I'm a journalism student," he said, keeping his tone casual. "My entire focus was on
superheroes and watching them. It was basically my life's work."
John narrowed his eyes slightly. He wasn't fully convinced, but he let it slide.
"Right then," John continued. "I told you about the demon problem we have here. You'll
be assisting Zatanna in clearing out a construction site where some arsehole decided to
open a gate to Hell. Meanwhile, I'll be checking around the city for any other demonic
activity."
Zatanna nodded. "Happy to work with you. But tell me—what kind of abilities should I
expect from my partner?"
Liam stiffened.
John froze as well.
"Right… mate," John muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "We never really
discussed that, did we?"
Liam's mind went blank.
He had no idea what to say. He'd been so caught up in everything that he never actually
stopped to question the full extent of his abilities.
Sparda's voice rang in his mind, oozing sarcasm.
"Ah, so you finally realized how much of a fucking idiot you are. Tell them you're new to
this power and don't know your limits yet."
Liam swallowed his pride and followed the sword's advice. "To be honest… I don't really
know yet. I only recently got this power, and I haven't had the chance to fully test it."
Zatanna and John exchanged glances, a mix of curiosity and disbelief on their faces.
John sighed. "Well, at least now you've got a chance to find out. No better way to learn
than jumping straight into the fire, eh?"
Zatanna crossed her arms. "Show me what we're working with."
Liam hesitated, then pulled the necklace from around his neck and placed it on the
table. In an instant, the chain morphed into the Demon Sword Sparda, its presence
filling the room with a suffocating aura.
The moment Zatann" laid eyes on it, her entire demeanor shifted.
Her fingers twitched, magic crackling at her fingertips as she instinctively prepared to
attack.
Liam barely had time to react before John stepped in, holding up a hand. "Easy, Z. He's
not a demon."
Zatanna exhaled sharply but didn't lower her guard completely.
Liam could still feel the tension radiating from her. Even with John's reassurance, she
clearly didn't trust the sword—or him, for that matter.
John clapped his hands together. "Right then, we head out at midnight. Until then, you
lot have time to rest and get to know each other."
Zatanna smirked before turning on her heel and walking away.
John chuckled. "See, mate? She's not easy to satisfy."
Liam let out a sigh as John left, leaving him alone with his thoughts—and, of course,
Sparda.
He sat back down, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, grumpy sword. You need to
explain my powers in more detail. What exactly can I do?"
But Sparda simply scoffed.
"Not a damn clue. You're too weak for me to get a proper read on. We'll find out tonight."
Liam exhaled through his nose, feeling the weight of the night ahead settling onto his
shoulders.
No turning back now.
Time flew by, and before Liam knew it, midnight had arrived.
Zatanna returned, but the look she gave him was one of pure disgust.
Liam sighed and followed her without a word. He tried to make small talk along the
way—anything to break the icy silence—but nothing worked.
Zatanna kept her pace brisk and her demeanor cold.
Finally, she spoke. "You're lucky you're still breathing."
Sparda burst into hysterical laughter in Liam's mind.
"Ooooh, she hates you, kid. I like her."
Liam gritted his teeth. "Why the hell are you so against me? I'm not a demon, and I sure
as hell didn't ask for these powers."
Zatanna didn't respond.
The tension between them was suffocating, but there was no time to dwell on it. They
arrived at the construction site, and Zatanna wasted no time getting into a fighting
stance.
Liam pulled out the chain, which morphed into the Sparda in his hands.
What greeted them was a gruesome sight—demons had already torn through several
workers, their bodies strewn across the ground in bloody heaps.
Zatanna sprang into action, her magic tearing through the lesser demons with brutal
efficiency. Liam did his best, swinging the sword at anything that moved.
They fought their way deeper into the site, reaching the supposed location of the Hell
Gate.
Nothing.
Zatanna frowned. "Something's off."
As soon as she said it, the ground trembled. Shadows slithered out of the darkness, and
before they could react, a horde of demons surrounded them.
The battle resumed.
Liam swung wildly, slashing at anything within reach. His movements were unrefined,
uncoordinated—he was fighting, not winning.
With every swing, his muscles ached. His breathing grew heavier. He wasn't used to
this.
After just a few swings, his knees buckled.
"This… this is bad…" Liam gasped, barely holding himself up.
Sparda's voice rang in his head, dripping with disappointment.
"Wow. I thought you'd last longer, but you finished faster than an Asian guy. You're
useless."
Liam gritted his teeth. "Not… helping."
Zatanna turned, eyes widening as she saw him faltering. "Liam!"
Her brief moment of distraction cost her—demons surged toward her, overwhelming her
defenses.
Liam froze. His heart pounded.
What do I do?
Then Sparda spoke again. But this time, his tone was different.
"If you want to save her, you have to trust me."
Liam's hands trembled. "What do you mean?"
"Stab yourself. In the heart."
Liam's breath caught in his throat.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?!"
Sparda's voice was unwavering. "You don't have time to argue. She's going to die. Do
it—NOW."
Liam looked up—Zatanna was still fighting, but she was losing ground fast.
His hands clenched around the sword's hilt.
His mind screamed at him not to do it.
But his heart…
With a deep breath, Liam plunged the Sparda into his chest.
Agony.
The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before. His vision blurred, his ears rang,
his body burned.
Fire erupted from the wound, spreading across his entire being. The flames consumed
him, eating away at his flesh—no, transforming it.
The last thing he saw before everything went black was Zatanna's horrified face.
And then, from the ashes of his burning body…
Something else rose.
A jet-black devil, towering and menacing, its body exuding raw power.
Its sharp horns glowed in the darkness. Its crimson eyes burned with fury.
In its grip, the Demon Sword Sparda pulsed with terrifying energy.
This form—this power—was unmistakable.
For a fleeting moment, the demon from Liam's dreams had come to life.
A glimpse of Sparda.