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/-\
Heroes clustered into quiet conversations, strategy was already forming, whatever countermeasures they could come up with.
Kara drifted closer to Arthur without drawing attention. She leaned in just enough, her voice barely a breath against his ear.
"Hey…" she murmured. "Arthur, you really think this was a good idea? All I see is panic in their faces."
Her blue eyes flicked briefly across the room, Barry pacing, Shazam whispering to Cyborg, Starfire holding Beast Boy's hand a little too tightly.
Arthur didn't turn his head.
'They would have learned the truth regardless,' his voice echoed directly in her mind, calm and steady.
'Better this way than through fire and screaming.'
Kara stiffened slightly, then sighed.
"They already look like they forgot about Darkseid altogether now," she whispered again. "Like this just… erased him... so many enemies to look out for."
Arthur's gaze darkened, violet light faint beneath his pupils.
"That's another problem," he replied quietly. "His influence stretches far beyond Apokolips. Darkseid doesn't rule a world, he infects existence itself."
Kara frowned. "Then why isn't he your priority?"
"He isn't, but he is part of the list." Arthur said. "My Lanterns will weaken his reach first. Strip him of footholds. When the time comes… I will end him. And his world once and for all."
She searched his face.
"That's too much for one person to handle."
Arthur finally looked at her.
"It has to be," he said softly. "If I don't bear it, our home will not survive."
That stopped her.
Kara said nothing and she stepped closer to him without realizing it.
Arthur turned back to the room, his voice carrying effortlessly.
"Once minor gates appear," he announced, "teams will be assigned immediately. These enemies test worlds before committing. We will show them this planet is not defenseless."
His eyes swept over the League.
"With your strength," he continued, "and my shadows, we will repel them, unless a Monarch-level gate manifests. In that case…"
A pause.
"I will intervene alone."
Batman stepped forward, already activating a holo-display on his gauntlet.
"That will be all," he said. "I'll distribute threat assessments and response protocols to each league member shortly."
He turned to Arthur.
"Thank you."
Arthur inclined his head.
"It was my responsibility to inform you."
He stepped back, turning slightly as if preparing to leave.
"Now, if you'll excuse me.."
"Oi."
The voice cut through the room.
Arthur turned.
John Constantine leaned against a wall, smirk crooked, eyes far sharper than his lazy posture suggested.
"Hold up a second, mate."
Arthur regarded him calmly. "John."
Constantine grinned.
"Yeah… listen, Lord of Shadows, or whatever title you're collecting these days, I don't know what you've done exactly, but standing next to you gives me the same feeling I got standing near a certain angel who fell real hard."
His expression darkened just a little.
"Can we have a chat?"
Kara folded her arms. "Trenchcoat, nothing good ever comes out of you opening your mouth. Can't this wait?"
"Easy there, sunshine," Constantine said, holding up his hands. "You can come too. Wouldn't dream of separating the happy couple."
Arthur exhaled slowly.
"I'm in the middle of.."
"Yeah, yeah," Constantine interrupted. "That's why we should go somewhere else. Somewhere without pointy-eared gods and solar-powered eavesdroppers. Trust me Arthur, you won't regret it."
Superman glanced over, brow furrowed.
Constantine flashed him a grin. "No offense, big blue."
Arthur studied Constantine for a long moment.
Then sighed.
"Fine," he said. "Let's go."
Constantine's smile widened.
"Atta boy."
He flicked ash from his cigarette, muttered something in a language that scraped the ears, and snapped his fingers.
Reality folded.
The Watchtower vanished in a flash of sigils, smoke, and shadow, Arthur didn't feel the displacement so much.
Gravity returned first. Then sound. Then smell.
Old wood. Stale beer. Cigarette smoke soaked so deep into the walls it had become part of the place's soul. A jukebox hummed in the corner, playing something bluesy and half-forgotten. Low murmurs, clinking glasses, and aughter that came from people who didn't ask too many questions.
They stood in a pub tucked somewhere between London and nowhere important.
Kara blinked once.
"…A bar?" she asked, looking around. "This is your big secret meeting place?"
Constantine spread his arms wide, coat flaring dramatically.
"Oi, watch your tone. This is classy. Neutral ground. No angels, no demons, no capes asking for favors every five seconds."
Arthur glanced around, violet eyes dim but alert. He could feel the place, wards layered beneath wards, sigils burned into the foundations, protective old magic.
"…This better be worthwhile John," Arthur said calmly.
Constantine smirked, already heading toward the stool.
"Oh, trust me," he replied. "It will be."
Kara followed, hands clasped behind her back, curiosity flickering across her face. "I don't mind a drink," she added lightly. "I've been meaning to try one of these anyways."
Arthur gave her a sidelong look. "Last time I had to carry you on my back."
"In my defense," Kara said, "The red sun affected me."
In one of the bar stools there she was.
Zatanna sat with one leg crossed over the other, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, a glass of something glowing faintly blue in her hand. She was already mid-sip, perfectly at ease.
She didn't even look surprised.
"Took you long enough," she said casually, eyes lifting to meet theirs. "I was starting to think John ditched me again."
Kara's eyebrows shot up. "You were already here?!"
Zatanna smiled. "Teleportation. It's a skill. Some of us practice."
Constantine groaned. "I'm not sure I invited you as well."
"And you always forget I do whatever I want," Zatanna replied sweetly, then finally turned her full attention to Arthur.
Her expression shifted.
"So," she said, lifting her glass slightly. "The Shadow Monarch finally walks into my favorite pub."
Arthur inclined his head politely. "Zatanna."
"Relax," Constantine said, sliding onto a stool. "First rule, no ominous prophecies before the first drink."
He slapped a hand on the bar. "Oi. Three."
The bartender an old man with too many rings and eyes that had seen worse than demons, nodded without comment.
Kara leaned on the counter, smiling. "Two for me."
Arthur paused… "Are you sure.."
The drinks arrived.
Kara sniffed hers suspiciously. "This won't knock me out, right?"
Constantine smirked. "If it does, I'll call it a success."
Arthur didn't drink immediately. He held the glass, watching the liquid ripple faintly.
"This place," he said slowly, "is heavily warded with magic isn't it."
Zatanna took another sip. "You noticed."
"It's still… comfortable," Arthur admitted. "In a dangerous sort of way."
Constantine raised his glass. "That's the vibe."
He took a long drink, then finally looked serious.
"Alright," he said. "Now that we're somewhere quiet, somewhere safe, we can talk."
Arthur's violet eyes lifted, sharpening.
"I'm listening."
Kara straightened, the playful edge fading from her expression.
Zatanna set her glass down gently.
Constantine stared into his drink for a long moment, swirling the liquid.
Then he sighed.
"Well," he said at last, voice dropping, losing its usual bite, "considering what you just told the entire Justice League, about those bloody Monarchs and whatnot, gates, worlds cracking open like bad eggs, what I'm about to say is… equally serious."
He took a sip. Didn't enjoy it.
"Maybe more," he added. "Hard to tell. I don't exactly have the full bloody chart on this Monarch business of yours."
Arthur didn't interrupt. He waited. Patient. Still as a shadow cast against the wall.
Constantine finally looked up.
"There's a place," John continued, "a very important place, mind you, that's… well. Monarchless, if I'm being polite."
Zatanna's fingers tightened around her glass.
Kara frowned. "Monarchless… as in.."
"As in no one's sitting the throne," Constantine cut in. "No ruler. No balance. No one keeping the bastards in line."
"…You're speaking of Hell," Arthur said calmly.
The word landed softly.
But Constantine froze.
His eyes widened, just a fraction, but on a man like John Constantine, that was a shout.
"…How did you.."
He stopped himself, dragging a hand down his face, cigarette cravings practically radiating off him.
"Damn it, Arthur," he muttered. "Something definitely changed about you."
Arthur finally lifted his glass and took a slow sip. "Lucifer abandoned his throne. The power vacuum didn't disappear with him. It festered."
Zatanna turned fully toward Arthur now, studying him with open intensity. "That knowledge isn't… common."
Constantine let out a humorless laugh. "That's one way to put it."
He leaned forward, elbows on the bar, voice low enough that even Superman's hearing wouldn't have caught it from orbit.
"You know," John said, "last time we met, you were dangerous, strong and mysterious in that broody way of yours."
He glanced at Arthur sidelong.
Arthur met his gaze evenly.
"…Something happened since the last time we met," Constantine said quietly. "Didn't it?"
Arthur set his glass down.
"Does it matter."
That was all he said.
Silence followed.
Zatanna exhaled slowly. "John," she said, carefully, "explain, stop messing around."
Constantine nodded once, gathering himself.
"Hells.. plural, run on hierarchy," he said. "Always have. You pull Lucifer out, you don't get peace. You get infighting. Dukes, lords, pretenders, crawling over each other for scraps of authority."
He grimaced.
"And lately? The noise has gotten louder. Rifts forming where they shouldn't. Demons slipping through without summoning circles. Possessions happening too easily."
"So yeah," Constantine said. "That's why Earth's starting to feel it."
Arthur's fingers curled slightly against the bar.
"A realm without a ruler," he said softly, "will either collapse… or invade."
Constantine pointed at him. "Exactly. And guess which one Hell prefers?"
Zatanna shook her head. "This isn't coincidence," she said. "Not with what Arthur just revealed to the League."
Arthur's gaze sharpened. "That's a possibility, The Monarchs could sense instability. They can exploit it."
Constantine studied him for a long moment, then snorted.
"Bloody hell," he muttered. "I was hoping you'd say something reassuring. Maybe crack a joke."
Arthur looked at him.
"I won't," he said. "Because you're not."
Kara swallowed. "So what does this mean?"
Constantine leaned back, rubbing his temples.
"It means," he said, "that Hell's looking for a king."
"And it means," he added slowly, "that standing next to you feels a lot like standing next to someone who's already worn that crown."
/-\
If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Solo leveling in Westeros.
&
If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want