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Across town, John Constantine and Etrigan walked toward a recently opened nightclub
that had been drawing some very demonic attention.
John took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled with a smirk. "Tell me, mate—do
you think this is Lucifer's work?"
Etrigan's glowing eyes flickered as he scanned the area. Then, in his signature rhyme,
he rumbled:
"Flashing lights and tempting sights,
Ladies luring in the night,
All the signs of hell's delight—
Lucifer's touch? You may be right."
As they neared the entrance, John suddenly bumped into a sharply dressed man
leaving the club, two gorgeous women on his arms.
Lucifer Morningstar.
Dressed in a tailored suit, he looked as effortlessly charming as ever, his signature
devilish grin plastered on his face.
John didn't miss a beat. "Well, well, Lucy—didn't know you were bloody blind."
Lucifer smirked, voice as smooth as silk. "John Constantine…" He let the name roll off
his tongue with theatrical amusement. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?
Have you come to congratulate me on my new establishment?"
He gestured grandly toward the nightclub's entrance. "Why don't you come inside?
Drinks are on me."
His eyes flicked toward Etrigan, lips curling with amusement. "And don't worry, friend,
there are ladies inside who wouldn't mind your… rugged appearance."
Etrigan growled, fists tightening, but he kept his temper in check.
John waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, Lucy, but I might take that offer on another
occasion." His expression turned sharp. "Let's cut the crap. You show up in my city, and
suddenly demons are running amok. Got anything to say for yourself?"
Lucifer sighed, looking genuinely offended. "Now, now, John, you wound me." He
straightened his cufflinks. "I opened this place to stop exactly that kind of trouble, not
cause it."
John narrowed his eyes. "Then start talking."
Lucifer's playful demeanor dropped slightly. "Two demons I absolutely despise are trying
to stake a claim in this world, and I cannot allow it."
John raised an eyebrow. "And they would be?"
Lucifer's expression darkened. "Blaze and Satanus."
Even Etrigan stiffened at the names.
Lucifer continued, "I'm expecting them tonight—I was just on my way to welcome them
properly."
John and Etrigan exchanged a look. A very concerned look.
A terrible thought struck them at the same time.
John took a sharp breath. "Wait… you said they're arriving tonight?"
Before Lucifer could respond, a massive pulse of dark energy erupted across the city.
The sky turned black as a horrifying aura radiated from the direction of the construction
site.
Every demon, every supernatural entity in the city felt it.
Lucifer's usually calm expression faltered. "This… this can't be them…"
John's heart dropped.
He knew where that was coming from.
He knew who was there.
He turned and screamed at the top of his lungs
"ZATANNA! LIAM!"
Back at the construction site, a suffocating heat radiated through the air.
The jet-black demon that stood amidst the carnage burned with raw, unfiltered power.
Zatanna, still reeling from the horror, whispered in shock, "Liam…? Is that you?"
The demon didn't respond.
He merely walked forward—Sparda in hand—his every step leaving trails of black fire in
its wake.
Demons foolish enough to stand against him were erased from existence, their bodies
disintegrating the moment they entered his aura.
Others, paralyzed by sheer terror, knelt before him in submission.
It didn't matter.
Whether they fought, whether they begged
They all fell.
One by one, Sparda carved through them with inhuman precision, and in mere
moments, only two remained.
Two figures emerged from the portal.
Unlike the others, they weren't trembling.
They weren't afraid—not yet.
They were powerful.
And they were pissed.
The first, a sharp-dressed blue-skinned demon with an air of casual arrogance,
Satanus, let out an exasperated sigh.
"Told you this was a bad idea, sis… I told you to keep our affairs in our own damn
realm."
The second, a fiery-haired queen of Hell with eyes burning with rage, Blaze, scanned
the battlefield.
She took in the carnage. The corpses. The kneeling survivors.
And then, she locked eyes with the black demon holding Sparda.
"Was this your doing?" she snarled.
The jet-black devil said nothing.
He simply raised his sword, pointing it directly at them.
A challenge.
Satanus let out a low whistle and took a step back.
"Yeahhh… you're on your own with this one, sis."
Blaze's fury ignited into a full inferno.
With a snarl, she took her stance.
The battle had begun.
The Battle of Fire and Shadow
Blaze narrowed her eyes as she stared at the jet-black demon before her. The
battlefield was littered with the charred remains of her underlings, their bodies reduced
to smoldering ash. The air reeked of sulfur and death, but what unsettled her the most
wasn't the carnage—it was the sheer presence of the being standing before her.
"You're not normal," she spat, tightening her grip on her twin blades of molten fire. "You
reek of something ancient… something dangerous."
Sparda tilted his head slightly but said nothing. His glowing red eyes bore into her,
unblinking, cold, detached. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he raised his sword and
pointed it at her—a silent invitation.
Blaze wasted no time. She lunged forward, her swords igniting with demonic fury. She
slashed at him with blinding speed, each strike a blur of fire and steel. But Sparda was
faster. He dodged with inhuman precision, weaving through her attacks as if he had
foreseen them before she even moved.
With one powerful swing, he parried both of her blades, sending her skidding backward.
The force alone cracked the concrete beneath her feet. Snarling, she thrust her hand
toward him, sending a wave of hellfire roaring in his direction. The flames surged
forward, consuming everything in their path.
But Sparda walked through them unscathed.
Blaze's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's not possible!"
Before she could react, he was upon her. His sword came down like a guillotine. She
barely managed to block, but the impact sent a violent shockwave rippling through her
body. Her arms trembled under the sheer force.
"That sword… it's absorbing my flames?!" she realized, panic setting in.
Sparda twisted his blade, knocking her off balance, and drove his knee into her
stomach. Blaze coughed out black blood, but he didn't let up. With one fluid motion, he
spun behind her and slashed across her back. A deep, searing wound tore through her
armor, and she screamed in pain.
Falling to her knees, Blaze panted heavily, her flames flickering weakly. But still, she
refused to accept defeat.
"You… you think this is enough to kill me?" she rasped. Her wounds began closing
almost instantly as hellfire surged through her veins. "I am immortal, you fool! You can't
kill what can't die!"
Sparda finally spoke, his voice dark and distorted. "Then I won't kill you."
Blaze barely had time to react before Sparda's sword plunged into her chest. Her
scream of agony echoed through the ruined site as her body convulsed. The demonic
blade pulsed violently, drinking in her very essence.
"No… NO! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!"
Blaze's form began to disintegrate, her body being pulled into the sword like a wraith
consumed by darkness. She reached out, clawing at the air, but it was futile. Her soul
was being devoured.
Satanus, still watching from the sidelines, chuckled darkly. "Well… that's unfortunate."
With a final, bloodcurdling shriek, Blaze was gone.
Silence fell over the battlefield.
Sparda stood still, Then, slowly, he turned his gaze toward Satanus.
The battle wasn't over yet.
The Fall of Satanus
Satanus exhaled sharply, running a hand through his slicked-back hair as he took a step
away from the battlefield. His sister's final screams still echoed in the air, her essence
now locked within the cursed blade. He had expected chaos, but this… this was
madness.
"Right, mate," he said smoothly, lifting both hands in a disarming gesture. "Let's not be
hasty. I had no part in her mess, just a spectator, really. No need to lump me in with her
poor decisions."
Sparda didn't respond. His crimson eyes burned with something beyond
rage—something primal. His grip tightened on the sword, and the air around him grew
heavy, suffocating. Without warning, he lunged.
Satanus barely dodged in time, twisting his body as the blade cleaved through the air
where his head had been. "Tch—so that's how it's gonna be?" He sighed, rolling his
shoulders. "Fine. Let's dance."
Summoning his own hell-forged blade, Satanus moved with the grace of a seasoned
warrior, countering Sparda's relentless strikes. Their swords clashed, sending
shockwaves through the ruined construction site. Sparks flew, the force of their battle
cracking the very earth beneath them.
But it wasn't enough.
Sparda was relentless. Each attack came faster, heavier, as if the sword itself was
guiding him, demanding more blood. Satanus found himself being pushed back, his
defenses crumbling.
"Wait—" He gritted his teeth as Sparda's blade found its mark, piercing through his
chest. His power drained instantly, his body burning as the cursed weapon pulled him
in. "You… damn monster…"
His body dissolved Into energy, consumed by the sword just as Blaze had been.
Sparda stood amidst the silence. The battle was over.
The battlefield was eerily quiet, the air thick with the scent of ash and scorched flesh.
Where once stood two powerful demons, now there was nothing—only the lingering
remnants of their defeat. In the center of the destruction, Liam lay unconscious, his
body returned to normal, but faint wisps of red energy still flickered around him.
Zatanna knelt beside him, hands trembling as she pressed her fingers against his neck.
A shaky breath of relief left her lips. "He's breathing…" she whispered, her voice
unsteady. The tension in her chest finally gave way, and to her own surprise, tears
began to well in her eyes.
Heavy footsteps approached. She turned to see John Constantine and Etrigan stepping
into the ruined construction site, with Lucifer following behind them. The three of them
stopped, taking in the scene—the absolute carnage, the corpses of demons reduced to
smoldering remains, and in the center of it all, Liam, the supposed amateur,
unconscious in Zatanna's arms.
John exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Bloody hell… Looks like you
two did a bang-up job. Might even deserve an overpayment for this one," he said in his
usual dry, sarcastic tone, though there was a hint of unease beneath it.
Lucifer, however, remained fixated on the battlefield. His golden eyes surveyed the
aftermath with something close to disbelief. "She couldn't have possibly done this… Let
alone kill them both," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Zatanna didn't respond at first. She just looked down at Liam, gripping his torn shirt as if
trying to ground herself. Finally, she spoke. "He saved me," she said softly but with
absolute certainty.
Lucifer's expression flickered—curiosity, intrigue, maybe even the slightest trace of
concern. This human had just erased two demons of significant power, something even
he had not anticipated.
John sighed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a practiced motion. "Right,
enough standing around. Let's get the poor sod outta here before more nasties show
up."
Etrigan stepped forward, scooping Liam's unconscious body over his shoulder like he
weighed nothing. No one argued. They turned, leaving the battlefield behind.
—
Meanwhile, in the Batcave…
The Batcomputer's massive screen glowed in the dim cave, displaying the aftermath of
the battle through a satellite feed. Every detail had been recorded—the transformation,
the raw power Liam had unleashed, the way he had absorbed both demons into his
sword.
Batman sat in his chair, one hand resting on his chin as he analyzed the footage in
silence. His free hand clutched a chain identical to the one Liam wore around his neck,
his thumb running over it thoughtfully.
A voice broke through the cave's silence.
"New player in town?" Nightwing's voice carried a casual tone as he stepped closer,
arms crossed. "Looks like Constantine's up to something again."
Batman didn't look away from the screen. "No," he said, his voice low and measured.
"This isn't just Constantine.
He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing as he replayed the moment Liam
transformed.
… is something else entirely.