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The silence that followed Nergal's ominous pronouncement stretched like a taut wire, broken only by the distant hum of Hell's Kitchen's nighttime symphony. Constantine stared at the demon who had haunted his nightmares for decades, trying to process the impossibility of the situation. Nergal shouldn't be here couldn't be here, if what the stranger had said about this being the wrong universe was true.
"What do you mean, they're not pleased?" Constantine asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
Nergal's golden eyes darted toward the alley's mouth, then back to Constantine. "The local infernal hierarchy operates under... different management. Your little summoning just rang every supernatural alarm bell from here to whatever passes for Hell in this reality." The demon's voice dropped to a rumble like distant thunder. "They're coming, Johnny. And they're not coming to chat."
As if summoned by his words, the air in the alley began to thicken, taking on the consistency of soup. The temperature dropped twenty degrees in as many seconds, and Constantine's breath came out in visible puffs. But this wasn't the familiar chill of European supernatural manifestations this felt alien, wrong in ways that made his skin crawl.
"Right," Constantine muttered, reaching into his coat for the tools of his trade. "Standard banishment should "
"Standard won't work here," Nergal interrupted. "Can't you feel it? The very fabric of this place operates on different principles. Your usual tricks..." The demon gestured dismissively. "They'll either fail completely or do something you didn't intend."
Constantine ignored him, pulling out a piece of chalk and beginning to sketch a protective circle around himself. The symbols came automatically years of muscle memory guiding his hand through the familiar patterns of binding and warding. But as soon as the chalk touched the concrete, he felt the wrongness Nergal had mentioned.
The circle should have drawn power from the ambient mystical energies that permeated all reality. Instead, it felt like he was trying to plug a European appliance into an American outlet the connection was there, but the voltage was all wrong.
"Bollocks," he hissed as the circle flared to life with sickly purple light instead of the clean white glow he expected. The protective barrier formed, but it flickered erratically, like a fluorescent bulb on its last legs.
"Told you," Nergal said with something approaching sympathy. "The rules here are "
His words were cut off as something burst through the wall of the alley. Not through a doorway or window, but literally through the brick and mortar as if it were made of paper. The creature that emerged defied easy description part shadow, part substance, with too many angles and a geometry that hurt to look at directly.
"Dimensional breach detected," it spoke in a voice like grinding metal. "Unauthorized entity present. Initiating containment protocol."
Constantine had faced down demons, angels, and things that defied classification, but this entity felt fundamentally different from anything in his experience. It radiated an authority that spoke of cosmic bureaucracy rather than infernal malice.
"Sod this," Constantine growled, abandoning the failing protective circle and falling back on instinct. He began weaving a binding spell, one of the first he'd ever learned, drawing on what he now realized must be his own life force what Marvel's system would classify as Personal Energy.
The spell took hold, but wrong. Instead of binding the shadow-creature in place, it seemed to multiply it, creating three identical entities that advanced on Constantine and Nergal with mechanical precision.
"Personal energies," Constantine breathed, understanding flooding through him. "It's drawing from my life force, but the framework is different. More... scientific."
Nergal snarled and lashed out with claws that could rend steel, but the shadow-creatures flowed around his attacks like smoke. "The local enforcement is more efficient than I expected," the demon admitted grudgingly.
Constantine tried again, this time reaching outward, trying to tap into what his instincts told him were Universal Energies the ambient magical field that should surround any reality. But Marvel's version felt structured differently, more organized, as if someone had taken the chaotic forces of magic and imposed order on them.
The binding spell he cast this time actually worked, freezing two of the shadow-creatures in place. But the effort left him gasping, sweat beading on his forehead despite the supernatural chill.
"The third tier," he muttered, pieces of understanding clicking into place. "Dimensional energies. That's how I accidentally summoned you I tapped into power from our reality and pulled you through."
"Fascinating lecture," Nergal said dryly as the remaining shadow-creature advanced on them. "Perhaps you could apply your newfound knowledge to not getting us both dissolved into component atoms?"
Constantine was about to attempt another spell when the sound of footsteps echoed from the alley's mouth. But these weren't the heavy boots of police or the casual shuffle of late-night wanderers. These footsteps moved with a predator's grace, silent except when their owner chose otherwise.
"Police!" a voice called out, though something in the tone suggested the speaker was anything but. "I heard reports of a disturbance."
The figure that stepped into the alley wore what looked like a red and black costume that hugged his athletic frame like a second skin. A stylized devil's horn design adorned his chest, and his head was covered by a mask that left only his mouth and jawline visible.
Constantine had seen enough costumed vigilantes in his time to recognize the type, though this one moved with a fluidity that suggested extensive training. But what caught his attention was the way the man's head tilted, as if he were listening to sounds no one else could hear.
"Three entities," the costumed figure said quietly. "Two human, one... something else. And something else beyond that something that shouldn't exist in this reality."
"How the bloody hell can you " Constantine began, but his words were cut off as the remaining shadow-creature suddenly whirled toward the newcomer with mechanical efficiency.
"Behind you!" Constantine shouted, but the warning was unnecessary.
The man in red moved like liquid mercury, ducking under the creature's grasping appendages and producing what looked like a billy club from his belt. But as the weapon struck the shadow-creature, it flared with an energy Constantine recognized as technological rather than mystical.
"Interesting," the costumed figure said as the creature dissolved into wisps of darkness. "Dimensional enforcement drones. Someone's been playing with forces they don't understand."
He turned toward Constantine and Nergal, and Constantine caught a glimpse of the man's face beneath the mask. Square-jawed, determined, with the kind of stubble that suggested he'd been working through the night. But it was his eyes that made Constantine's breath catch clouded white, obviously blind, yet somehow focused directly on him with unsettling accuracy.
"You're not from around here," the man said. It wasn't a question.
"That's putting it mildly," Constantine replied, studying this unexpected ally. "And you are?"
"People call me Daredevil. I protect this neighborhood." The man's head tilted again, and Constantine got the distinct impression he was being evaluated in ways he couldn't understand. "Your friend there he's a demon, but not one of the local varieties. Different dimensional signature entirely."
"You can tell all that just by looking?" Constantine asked, though he was beginning to suspect sight had nothing to do with it.
"I don't see the way you do," Daredevil admitted. "Enhanced senses. I can hear your heartbeat, smell the sulfur and brimstone clinging to your companion, feel the electromagnetic disturbances that follow supernatural entities." He paused, head tilting further. "But you... you're something else entirely."
Constantine felt a chill that had nothing to do with the supernatural cold still lingering in the alley. "What do you mean?"
Daredevil took a step closer, and Constantine could see the concentration on his face, as if he were trying to parse information that didn't quite make sense. "Your heartbeat is human, but there's something else. Something overlaid on top of it, like an echo or a harmonic frequency." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "It's as if you have two souls occupying the same space."
The words hit Constantine like a physical blow. He'd suspected something was wrong since waking up in this reality, but having it confirmed by someone with supernatural senses brought the full implications crashing down on him.
"That's impossible," Nergal said, but his voice carried a note of uncertainty. "Souls don't work that way. Even across dimensional barriers, there can only be one "
"Unless," Daredevil interrupted, his blind eyes somehow boring into Constantine's, "one of those souls doesn't belong to this reality at all."
The alley fell silent except for the distant sounds of the city. Constantine could feel both Nergal and Daredevil watching him, waiting for an explanation he wasn't sure he could give. Because if what Daredevil was saying was true if he really did have two souls somehow occupying the same space then his presence in this reality wasn't just an accident.
It was an impossibility that could unravel the very fabric of existence.
Daredevil's head snapped up suddenly, his enhanced hearing obviously picking up something beyond normal human perception. "More enforcement coming," he said grimly. "Whatever you did to bring your friend here, it's attracted serious attention. The kind that won't stop with dimensional drones."
Constantine could feel it too now a pressure building in the air around them, like the moment before lightning strikes. The local supernatural authorities were mobilizing, and they were bringing serious firepower.
"We need to move," Constantine said, but even as the words left his mouth, he realized they might already be too late.
Daredevil's enhanced senses had detected something that should have been impossible evidence that Constantine wasn't just displaced, but was somehow carrying pieces of two different realities within himself.
And if that was true, then his very existence in this universe was an ongoing crisis that could destroy everything he'd come to care about.
/-\
If you wish to read more and I hope that you can support me because I really get exhausted of this work than check out my Patreon at
" https://www.patreon.com/Its_Zack/ "
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want!