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Chapter 40 - #40. Trigon Breach

LOOTING DC #40. Trigon Breach

For a world always teetering between chaos and order, DC felt oddly mundane. At least, the road from Gotham to Jump City did.

Jake had been on it for what felt like forever - just over eleven hours. It was late now, and he was almost sure he wouldn't make it. The thought of hacking a Zeta Tube to Jump City was starting to haunt him. He should've done that instead of taking this solo road trip, armed with a useless radio, stollen gas, and snack tabs he'd never pay for. Long, exhausting, boring.

And the worst part? He was only halfway.

Adrenaline had told him he'd be there and back by nightfall - typical. He should've learned by now: never trust the high. Even Oolong Island hadn't been this much of a slog, and that was a whole continent away. Why was this stretch of land worse?

Right - Artemis. She'd handled the logistics for Oolong.

She could've helped. Just an ask. Why didn't he?

Bzzztt...

Jake's focus snapped forward. Something was up. The road ahead rippled with tension. He gripped the handlebars tighter.

The air stank - like a volcanic blast had just gone off. Despite the falling night, it was getting hotter.

Bzzz...

Yeah. Trouble. Not the usual kind, either. Half of him wanted to turn back. The other half? Morbidly curious.

Then he saw it.

The first crack in the tarmac glowed molten red. Jake slammed both brakes. The bike screeched and spun, nearly tossing him, but his spider reflexes kept him grounded. It skidded to a stop ten meters from-

Jake looked up. Blinked. Once. Twice.

"…What in the-"

He couldn't finish the sentence.

Ahead - just before a blazing column of flame and a burning town - stood what looked like an army of… variety.

None of them looked human. Jake had to blink several times to be sure.

They came in every shape and size - some crawling, some slithering, others on two feet. Limbs bent at impossible angles. One held a fiery chain, another leaned on a scythe the size of a lamp post. Blades. Fangs. Horns. The only thing they shared was their stillness - like statues waiting to be provoked - and their glowing red eyes... for those that had eyes at all.

It felt like he'd rolled straight into hell's front line.

Jake glanced behind him. Empty road. Silent woods. Somehow, he felt like the demons had pulled him here - not the other way around.

He swallowed hard. His body screamed retreat.

Instead-

"So, uhhh… you guys waiting for someone?" Jake said, hands still on the handlebars. "'Cause I think they're late to the party."

No response.

"Cool, cool," he muttered, heat and stench starting to mess with his nerves. "Not that it's my business or anything, but - whoever you're here for? Man… they're marching into a death sentence."

Still no reaction.

Jake slowly started turning the bike. His gut told him to back off. His ego said: what's the harm in trying to go through peacefully?

"Anyway," he said, revving the engine, "I got somewhere to be. No offense."

The bike rolled forward. Jake eased it onto a path that curved wide around the mob.

"Hope you don't mind-"

Trrr… trr… torrrr…

The engine died.

Jake didn't even make it past the first demon. The bike coughed, sputtered, and choked to a stop inches from a massive horned brute.

He tried revving it again. Nothing.

Hot air hit his back. Sulfuric. Heavy. Jake slowly looked up.

The demon towered over him, silent and smoking.

"…Got a portal I can borrow?" Jake asked, voice muffled behind his mask. Steam clouded the inside.

"A wrench might help too," he added, trying to stay casual.

BZZZT!

Jake's senses flared. He felt the swing coming and threw himself backward, flipping off the bike. He landed in a crouch, eyes locked on the horde.

"Really?" he snapped. "I asked nicely."

"THEN MAYBE I SHOULD ASK NICELY TOO."

The voice shook the earth. It didn't come from a mouth - it came from everywhere. From below. From flame. From hell.

Jake turned, trying to find the speaker. Nothing. Just still demons.

"SURRENDER YOUR POWER TO ME."

"AND PERHAPS... I SHALL LET YOU LIVE."

🕸️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕸️

The glares - he could handle. Even the silence wasn't new. Constantine had been in rooms like this more times than he cared to count.

But what really got him… was his gut.

It was screaming at him. And he didn't want to hear it. That always meant something worse - something creeping in just out of sight. And after last night's case?

Yeah. Probably a full-blown catastrophe.

He swallowed hard and ignored it. If only he could reach his coat pocket for a fag. That'd make this bloody chair - and this bloody meeting - slightly more bearable.

He dared to shift.

Just a twitch.

It was enough.

"What the hell?" Wonder Woman snapped. Her voice - sharper than usual. Then again, lately…

She was furious. Fair enough. Her Lasso had just been nicked by some spider-powered upstart with a god-complex.

Still, why take it out on him?

Right. She had just dug up some things he'd hoped she'd never find.

"Just trying to lighten the mood, luv," Constantine muttered, flashing half a smirk. Humor had always been his armor in rooms like this.

"Not the time, John," Zatanna snapped. Her voice cut through the air, all sharp edges and disappointment.

Truth was, he'd only ever signed up as a consultant. But somewhere along the way, they'd started listening to him - believing him.

That was their first mistake.

Since Oolong, the cracks in his confidence - and his deals - were starting to show.

Calling Lian a magical nuclear event? Just the surface.

Underneath?

Secrets. Bargains. Sins no decent soul would forgive.

So much for fighting fire with fire.

Things had been going well. Until that Spider brat pulled... whatever the hell that was. Redirected a crisis. Saved the girl. Maybe saved the world.

Should've been a win. For everyone.

Yet here they were. The Justice League Dark, practically drawing straws on who got to throw him into the Pit first.

Even the devil was probably jealous he hadn't been invited.

"Look," Constantine said, shrugging, "we were all trying to save the bloody day. Under different circumstances, maybe you'd even appreciate a bit of my mischief."

"Mischief?" Zatanna cut in, arms folded. "Is that what you call it when you graft a soul and trap it in a pocket dimension?"

Constantine raised a brow. "Can't hurt to have a backup now and then."

"And the deal with Neron?" she shot back. "You put the whole team under a blood pact!"

'Without consent' felt heavily implied in Zatanna's tone.

"Ah, Neron. That old bastard. We beat him once - we can beat him again. Save our souls in the process."

Zatanna's mouth opened. Constantine kept rolling.

"Let's not forget - that's how we got The Magdalene Grimoire to temper Lian's chaos. Didn't work, but worth the shot at the time."

Zatanna fumed.

"And before you pull out more skeletons - that we all know are too long to bloody count," Constantine said, more serious now, "everything I did - I did to keep us in the fight. Without me, this world would've burned five times over."

Wonder Woman spoke next. Calm. Cold.

"It still doesn't make any of it right."

She stepped forward.

"This isn't what this division was built for. Magic isn't a toy. You treat it like one."

"Magic is a toy," Constantine said. "A broken one. A rule that bends other rules. Anyone claiming it has hard lines is either lying or trying to sell you a leash."

"No," Diana said flatly. "Your entire approach is madness dressed as strategy. I should've seen it sooner."

Silence followed.

Then: "As the leader of Justice League Dark, I'm removing you from the team."

Constantine didn't flinch. If anything, he was surprised it had taken this long.

Still… that feeling in his gut hadn't gone away. It was louder now.

"Fair enough," he said, rising to his feet, happy to leave the grilling with all his parts intact. "I'll drop my key card at the door."

He turned, calm on the outside, walking with the kind of resignation that only years of magical regret could provide.

But his gut wouldn't settle.

And then-

A mystical wall lit up right in his path, icons glowing and flipping one after another. Threat markers. He recognized them instantly - he'd helped design the system. Which made this all the worse.

He froze, one boot mid-step.

Each icon blinked red in sequence until a massive, horned silhouette erupted in flame at the center. The avatar's burning eyes swept the room - then a jagged, grinding alarm blared overhead as six letters scorched into the air above it:

B-R-E-A-C-H.

"Not now," Wonder Woman whispered through gritted teeth - louder than she meant to.

Zatanna was already in motion, floating to the central table as the living map unfurled - its carved channels surging with pulsing blood, racing across the continent like veins under skin.

Her fingers traced the flow with practiced speed.

Then-

"Missouri," she said, voice hard. "It's a full breach."

She looked up, pale.

"Trigon is here."

Constantine adjusted his coat, exhaling through his teeth.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. "The bastard couldn't wait five minutes for me to leave."

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