Unlike Marvel's editorial team, which has long been shut down in this universe, DC Comics still thrives in full glory.
In universe 19999-FL, where Aron resides, DC Comics remains incredibly popular.
Superman, Batman, Flash, and the other classic heroes have remained icons, almost mythical figures of modern culture.
"This is DC's editorial office," he said as he and the Ancient One entered an old office building in Manhattan, New York.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The first thing that caught their attention was a huge statue of Superman.
The walls were covered with illustrations of Superman and Batman, as well as numerous recognitions and awards: "Best Comic of the Year," "Most Beloved Hero," "Best Film Based on a Comic," and many others.
"Hello, do you have an appointment?" asked a young receptionist, rising from her seat.
"Of course," Aron replied calmly. "I've already informed your chief editor."
The receptionist looked at him, and for a brief moment, her eyes gleamed with a red light.
"Oh, alright," she said with a smile. "Take the elevator straight to the third floor; the editor-in-chief is waiting for you there."
There was no doubt, this woman was not what she appeared to be.
Aron had used demonic power to charm her, making her trust him unconditionally.
The Ancient One looked at him with mild disdain and said quietly, "Boy, don't tell anyone you're from Kamar-Taj."
"I don't use this very often," Aron replied indifferently and stepped into the elevator.
In truth, he rarely used this demonic power, as it served only to intimidate and influence ordinary people.
The elevator slowly ascended to the top.
When they reached the third floor, the doors opened, and before them unfolded a true kingdom of comics.
On the tables were scattered unfinished sketches, pencils, colors, and papers.
Some drawings were crumpled and thrown next to the trash bin, while others were already bound into books and stacked neatly in piles.
"The infinite multiverse, everything is possible," Aron murmured.
"That's true," agreed the Ancient One, picking up a comic and flipping through a few pages.
This centuries-old, bald woman quickly adapted to the idea that comic book characters could become real.
She even gave herself an explanation that sounded perfectly logical to her.
"I don't think these comics became reality," she said calmly. "This is just a group of ordinary people drawing what appears in their minds."
She paused, looking at the cover of an issue of Justice League.
"In other words," she continued, "these artists aren't the creators of the DC universe. They have no superpowers, nor are they beings of higher dimensions. They only transfer images they receive… perhaps from other worlds."
She lifted her gaze toward Aron.
"That's why I think these comics are the result of something else. Maybe some being from a higher dimension projects the stories of the DC universe directly into the minds of these artists, in the form of imagination. That's why they can draw characters and stories that perfectly match those from the real DC universe."
Aron looked at her, then laughed and gave her a thumbs-up.
"Ancient One, what you said… is too good! So… is there a chance that our universe works the same way?"
"Of course there is," she answered immediately. "In infinite parallel universes, everything is possible. Maybe even this conversation we're having right now is just a projection, maybe some being from a higher level of consciousness is using us as inspiration for a novel or comic."
"In other words," she added more quietly, "maybe someone is drawing us right now."
Aron pondered, gazing through the office window.
"But if we're part of someone else's story… does that mean we're not real?"
The Ancient One approached him and suddenly pinched his arm.
"What are you doing?!" he shouted.
"Look," she said with a faint smile. "That's proof we exist."
Aron rubbed the red mark on his skin and muttered with a grin, "Yeah, you're really too brutal."
...
"Hello, I'm the editor-in-chief here, Jimmy Javins."
"May I ask, you two…?"
The moment Aron and the Ancient One stepped into DC's editorial office, chief editor Jimmy Javins immediately noticed them. He came out of his office and approached them with a smile.
"OH!!!"
"That's a superhero!"
"Alive! Real!"
"Come, quickly, into our office!"
But before Aron and the Ancient One could say anything, the editor had already started shouting in excitement.
The noise drew the attention of the entire editorial floor. In an instant, every office door opened, and dozens of comic artists and editors peeked out, staring in confusion toward the commotion.
When they saw Aron, everyone froze, then went completely wild.
"That's the demon hunter!"
"What? Him personally!? Then we should call him Lord Satan now!"
"Move! I want to see him up close!"
"I can't believe it! I've drawn Superman all my life, but today I've seen a real superhero!"
"Superman? Oh, come on, forget it! Superman's fiction! This is a real flesh-and-blood hero!"
Editors threw their pencils, scripts, and piles of papers onto the floor. Chaos erupted throughout the office.
"Satan…"
Aron sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Just call me Aron."
The Ancient One laughed, pulled out a chair, and sat aside, clearly enjoying the scene.
"Mr. Aron," said the chief editor Jimmy, still excited, "we've recently been planning to create a new hero inspired by you. His name will be… Constantine!"
"The story revolves around his battles and love with demons. What do you think of the name and the plot?"
Jimmy waved his hands, and an assistant was already running over with a draft of the cover art.
"Stop! Just stop!"
Aron raised his hand and halted them.
"Please… don't associate me with Constantine!" he said seriously. "That's very important for my reputation."
Of course, many of Constantine's traits were familiar to Aron: sarcastic, cunning, deceitful, manipulative, sometimes cowardly, an addict, with lung cancer, and a foul mouth, he could still tolerate all that.
But there was one thing he couldn't accept, Constantine's incredibly… debauched private life.
"He doesn't refrain from anything," Aron thought with disgust. "From angels to demons… from humans to beings that shouldn't even be named."
"No, absolutely not," he said firmly. "I don't want anyone associating me with that character."
Jimmy, though confused, simply nodded. He had no idea why Aron reacted so strongly, but when Lord Satan tells you something, you just obey.
"I understand, sir. So, tell me… did you come here, to our editorial office, for some special reason?"
Jimmy nervously rubbed his hands, trying to hide his trembling.
On the screens in the background, news about the Avengers' battle with aliens was still playing. The situation in the world was tense—and now, one of the most famous heroes was standing in their office.
"Is there a mission? Do you need our help to save the world?" Jimmy asked, shaking with excitement.
His question caused an even greater commotion. Editors stood up, ready to grab their pencils and notebooks and rush after Aron if needed.
"If we need to save the world, count us in!"
"Our generation must take part!"
"Finally, we can be part of true heroism!"
Everyone was hoping to hear the famous line: The world needs you.
But Aron just looked at them, puzzled.
"Actually," he said calmly, "this time I just came to see your comics."
The editors froze instantly.
"I wanted to take a look at your upcoming plans," he continued. "Are you thinking about some big crossover? For example… connecting real-life figures with the heroes of DC Comics?"