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HELL – DESTROYED TOWER OF DIS
The Tower now looked like the aftermath of a war between gods. Great pillars had collapsed. The ceiling had been torn open in several places, revealing the burning sky above. Rivers of molten stone trickled through cracks in the floor where violent forces had torn the structure apart.
The throne room itself barely resembled a throne room anymore.
Half the walls were gone.
The throne that once sat at the center had been shattered, its remains scattered across the chamber.
A faint wind whistled through the destruction.
Two figures stepped over the rubble.
John Constantine flicked ash from the end of his cigarette, boots crunching lightly over broken stone. His coat looked worse for wear, burn marks, torn sleeves, soot clinging to the fabric but the casual slouch in his posture hadn't changed.
Behind him walked a towering shape of muscle, flame, and demon hide.
Etrigan the Demon moved with heavy steps, eyes scanning the ruin.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Constantine let out a low whistle.
"Well," he muttered, looking around the demolished chamber. "Bloody hell."
He nudged a cracked piece of the throne with his boot.
"Arthur didn't exactly tidy up, did he?"
Etrigan's gaze drifted across the destruction.
His gravelly voice rolled through the room.
"The Shadow Lord came here with wrath untold
And broke this palace, crown and gold."
His burning eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the collapsed throne platform.
"The lord of Dis once ruled this hall,
Yet now lies dust beneath the fall."
Constantine scratched his chin.
"Yeah… yeah, that sounds about right."
He glanced around again.
What struck him most wasn't the damage.
It was the utter silence.
Even in its quietest corners there were always screams, distant roars, the endless grinding noise of torment and punishment in Hell.
But here
Nothing.
Not a single demon.
Not a whisper of life.
Constantine frowned slightly.
"That's odd."
He walked deeper into the throne room, boots echoing faintly.
"Not a soul around, I expected whatever was working in the shadows behind Neron to remain here... I guess that's why Arthur isn't here as well."
Etrigan didn't answer.
The demon was scanning the chamber with growing intensity, eyes moving across the rubble as if searching for something.
Constantine took another drag of his cigarette.
Then suddenly
He stopped.
His brow furrowed.
"…Huh."
He blinked.
Then his hand slowly moved to his chest.
"…That's… strange."
Etrigan glanced toward him.
"What troubles thee, mortal mage?
Speak thy thought upon this stage."
Constantine looked down at himself, confused.
"I…"
He hesitated.
Then said it slowly.
"…I got my soul back... I didn't bloody notice..."
Etrigan blinked once.
The demon tilted his head slightly.
"Why marvel at this fated role?
Neron is slain. He held thy soul."
Constantine stared at him.
"Yes, I gathered that much, mate."
He exhaled smoke slowly, but the confusion on his face didn't fade.
"Thing is… I didn't feel it at all till I checked."
Etrigan's eyes narrowed slightly.
Constantine continued,
"Deals like that don't just end quietly."
"You feel it when something like that breaks. A contract with a demon lord snapping apart isn't exactly subtle."
His gaze drifted toward the ruined throne.
"Killing Neron should've done the trick, sure."
He frowned.
"But this… this feels different."
Constantine pressed a hand against his chest again, as if confirming the sensation.
"It's like…"
He searched for the right words.
"…like my soul wasn't taken back."
He looked up.
"…It was returned willingly."
Etrigan's flames flickered faintly.
"That is a path Neron would not tread.
He'd sooner leave thee cold and dead."
The demon turned away, scanning the room again, stepping through the rubble as he continued searching.
"The Lord of Lies would never yield
His grip upon a soul unsealed."
Constantine shrugged lightly.
"Well… whether he let it go or not, I'm not complaining, but someone else clearly did this.."
He flicked the cigarette aside.
A small smirk tugged at his lips.
"Got what I wanted in the end."
His eyes then shifted.
He noticed Etrigan digging through a collapsed portion of the throne platform.
Stone scraped aside under the demon's claws.
Constantine folded his arms.
"Looking for something?"
Etrigan didn't answer immediately.
He shoved aside another slab of the shattered throne.
"The crown once worn by Hell's own king,
A relic bound to power's sting."
He stood up slightly, frustration flickering across his demonic features.
"The Horned Crown should rest nearby…
Yet now it's vanished from my eye."
Constantine's smile slowly widened.
"Oh."
His hand slipped casually into his coat pocket.
"Well… that explains it."
Etrigan turned toward him.
Constantine pulled something out as if that fit inside his coat.
A dark, crown of twisted horns gleamed faintly in the hellish light.
The Crown of Horns.
Constantine held it up.
"Looking for this?"
Etrigan froze.
For a moment, the demon didn't move at all.
Then he turned fully toward Constantine, eyes blazing brighter.
"That crown!"
He stepped closer, disbelief.
"Why rests it in thy mortal hand?!"
Constantine chuckled softly.
"Oh, this?"
He spun the crown lazily on one finger.
"Just a little souvenir."
Etrigan stared.
"That relic binds the throne of flame!
How came it to thy grasping claim?!"
Constantine's grin widened.
"Well… It's a funny story."
He slipped the crown back into his coat pocket like it was nothing more than a bar trinket.
"This was part of my deal with Neron."
Etrigan's eyes widened.
"…What?"
Constantine lit another cigarette.
"A loophole."
He inhaled slowly before continuing.
"One even Neron didn't see coming."
The demon's jaw slowly tightened.
"You dare to claim such cunning art
Explain thy trick, thy devil's part."
Constantine blew smoke toward the broken ceiling.
His grin became sharper.
"Oh, it's simple really."
He tapped the side of his head.
"Never make a deal with a demon unless you've already three steps ahead."
Etrigan stared at him.
Then said, almost incredulously
"You… outwitted Neron?"
Constantine shrugged.
"How?"
Constantine's smile turned downright wicked.
"Well…"
He adjusted his coat.
"…you see, mate."
"I never actually sold him my soul for free."
Smoke curled lazily from the end of the cigarette between John Constantine's fingers.
The demon had been staring at Constantine for a long moment now.
Finally, Etrigan's voice rumbled.
"Thou claim'st the devil knew thee not
Explain thy trick, reveal the plot."
Constantine took a long drag.
Then he exhaled slowly.
"Alright, mate. But you're gonna hate it."
He flicked ash onto the cracked floor of Hell's former throne room.
"You remember Neron, right? I mean his big ego which happens to be the size of bloody London."
Etrigan's lip curled.
"The devil lord who dealt in flame
Whose greed outpaced his cunning brain."
Constantine smirked faintly.
"Yeah, that's about right."
He leaned against a broken column.
"So here's how it went. Neron wanted my soul. Not unusual, plenty of devils do. I'm practically a collector's item at this point."
Etrigan folded his arms.
"And thou didst yield thy spirit free?"
"Oh, I absolutely did," Constantine said casually.
The demon's eyes narrowed.
Constantine continued like he was explaining pub gossip.
"See, Neron thought he was getting a bargain. I told him I'd give him my soul willingly. No tricks. No escape clauses. The real thing."
Constantine smiled crookedly.
"I asked for a look at the Crown of Horns."
Etrigan froze slightly.
The demon's eyes sharpened.
"No mortal hand may claim such a relic."
"Exactly," Constantine said, pointing the cigarette at him.
"That's what Neron thought too."
He shrugged.
"So when I asked to hold it not take it, not wear it, not rule Hell with it, just hold the bloody thing for a minute…"
Constantine chuckled.
"He figured it was harmless, since mortals can't do shit with it, even demons."
Etrigan's gaze darkened.
"Yet devils fall where mortals scheme."
"Too right."
Constantine crushed the cigarette under his boot.
"Before I went down there, I prepared a little ritual. Nothing flashy. Just a quiet bit of binding magic. The kind that copies metaphysical authority. Which I've been preparing for a long time."
Etrigan leaned forward slightly.
"And when the crown touched thy hand?"
Constantine snapped his fingers.
"Swap."
He grinned.
"One minute I'm holding the real crown. Next minute Neron's got a perfect magical duplicate sitting on his throne."
The demon's eyes flared with hellfire.
"A counterfeit of devil's throne
A hollow crown of borrowed bone."
"Looks the same," Constantine said.
"Feels the same. Even smells the same to their bloody senses."
He shrugged.
"But it's got no authority. No sovereignty. No command over Hell."
Etrigan slowly realized the implication.
"Neron believed the crown his prize…"
"Exactly," Constantine said.
"I assume he thought it just wasn't responding to him because he wasn't the rightful ruler of Hell."
Constantine gave a thin, crooked smile.
"Which, technically, is true."
The demon laughed darkly.
"Thou fooled the lord of Hell's domain."
"Wouldn't be the first time I've fooled a devil, and this time it was for a great purpose. It bought us time, Hell was becoming too unstable, I didn't mention the deal part to Arthur, part of the contract was not to talk about contract after all."
Etrigan tilted his head slightly. Then the demon's laughter echoed across the shattered throne room.
"A mortal trickster, sly and grim
Who dares to cheat the lords of brim."
Constantine pulled out another cigarette and lit it.
"Yeah, well."
He exhaled a slow cloud of smoke into the air.
"Never play cards with a magician, mate."
/-\
If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Shadow Monarch in One Piece / The Witcher: Heir of Fire!
&
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 7 More Chapters if you want !