Constantine, cigarette dangling from his lips, walked over to Strange, hands on his hips, staring at him without saying a word. After a while, nodding sowhat vaguely, he began, "I told you, you don’t look like Constantine."
"You don’t look like one either, do you? You answered Batman’s call to join this war just to find a way out, didn’t you? Maybe I can help you."
Constantine didn’t deny it; he rely tilted his head slightly upward and said, "To be precise, I sensed Satan’s arrival. As long as I can avoid him, it doesn’t matter where he goes. Running into you, though, is a pleasant surprise, Honorable Supre Mage."
Then he suddenly laughed, lowered his head, and shook it, saying, "’Supre Magician’? That sounds really... interesting."
"Not more interesting than your lungs." Strange picked up the film again, pointing at it, "Have you ever regretted turning your body into this? ... What am I asking? If you regretted it, you wouldn’t still be smoking."
"Are you going to be the anti-smoking ambassador too?" Constantine looked at him and asked.
He then plopped back onto the bed, took a deep drag on his cigarette, and said, "What can I do? I’ve been able to see strange things since I was a kid. When I talked about it, people thought I was a madman. But those things linger in my mind, constantly appear in my dreams, and haunt every second, making it impossible for to concentrate on anything. Nicotine and alcohol give temporary numbness, but it’s all I have."
"So the demons over there take this approach." Strange sighed and said.
"Don’t yours?" Constantine raised an eyebrow and asked.
"How to say? The devils here take a gentler approach; they usually won’t choose to scare you. Instead, they very politely ask what you need, coaxing you into willingly signing an unequal contract by digging out every bit of greed in your heart to use as a bargaining chip."
Constantine was a bit stiff, exhaling a puff of smoke after a while, "If you keep talking like that, I might just fall in love with Satan."
"How is he treating you?"
"Especially fond of ." Constantine laughed a bit self-deprecatingly, "On the day I die, he’ll co to collect my soul personally."
Strange asked in his mind again, "If I rember correctly, isn’t Satan another na for Lucifer? Do they have sothing going on?"
"It’s not the sa Lucifer." Shiller’s voice rang out again, "Although the Heaven and Hell of the neighboring worlds are shared in the Multiverse, it’s limited to certain universes. The one Constantine is in is an outside universe, where Hell does not communicate with other universes and has an independent Heaven and Hell, and the God and Satan are not from other universes either."
In the DC World, the Comic Universe shares the sa Heaven and Hell, but Movie Universes and the like are not included. Adaptation universes like Beihan, Ben, and Arkham Batman have independent systems. Although Lucifer can manage these universes due to copyright origination in the comics, their Heaven and Hell are not shared with the Comic Universe.
Another typical example is the TV show "Lucifer." The Lucifer of this universe is not the comic Lucifer or even his avatar, but an independent character, and the Heaven and Hell within the show are likewise.
The Movie Universe where Constantine is located has its own set of operating rules, simply put: there is a wager between God and Satan, where neither can directly interfere in worldly matters. So if they want to compete, they can only rely on human choice—choosing good ans going to Heaven, choosing evil ans going to Hell. Humans wager their lives to let the two decide victory.
Sounding fair, but it’s really not. Both Heaven and Hell are always playing little tricks. The demons influence humans at the critical junctures of their choices to let them fall into the Abyss, and angels continuously persuade humans so they can go to Heaven.
Constantine is rather unfortunate in this sense; he’s naturally very perceptive and can see those demons and angels that co to Earth to play tricks. These things have a huge impact on his ntal state, making him an outstanding exorcist.
Similarly, his natural high perception makes his soul very tempting to demons. Satan has long declared that Constantine’s soul is his alone. God seemingly disagrees, and the two have always been at odds.
"After I was diagnosed with lung cancer, aware that I didn’t have much ti left, I didn’t want to hand my soul over to Satan, so I responded to Batman’s call and ca here. Although Satan can’t follow, my life is already on a countdown; it’s just a matter of where I die."
Strange fell silent for a mont and said, "You should fight a bit harder; cancer isn’t completely incurable."
"Yes, but that’s only for early-stage cancer. In my case, it’s long beyond any hope." Constantine looked at the ceiling and said.
Strange didn’t know how to argue. Lung cancer is among the most despairing cancers, especially the small cell lung cancer Constantine suffers from, which is very aggressive and spreads quickly; by the ti symptoms appear, it’s usually widespread, and there’s no saving it.
With the lungs in such a state, you’d expect the patient to be very weak, but Constantine isn’t just anyone. He’s an exorcist who occasionally gets to feast on a few demons, though this is at best a strong painkiller and stimulant, treating the symptoms but not the root cause. Once the ’dication’ stops, Constantine would quickly succumb to the pain and die.
"You seem to have taken his last ’dication.’" Strange thought to himself, "Now you have to resort to treatnt."
"It’s all right, at worst, just let the gray mist co," Shiller’s voice remained calm. "I only chose conservative treatnt out of respect for his personal beliefs; otherwise, what’s cancer compared to that?"
Strange thought so too. In front of the gray mist, no cancer could really cause any trouble. However, Constantine’s ntal state was indeed worrying. If you quietly treated him and then told him he couldn’t go to Heaven, what if he had a ntal breakdown?
So Strange decided to test the waters. He said, "I told you, I can help you. I know you might not like magical thods, but the technology in our universe is highly advanced; there’s already a country in Africa that has mastered the complete treatnt of cancer. Even if surgery is needed, you can trust my skills."
Sure enough, Constantine turned his head to look over.
"I didn’t expect that even at this point, you still wouldn’t want to use magic for treatnt." Strange understood his choice and said, "Why are you so resistant to magic? Do you have a strong religious faith?"
"Religion? It’s not just religion," Constantine shook his head and said. "I know many ordinary people just see the Bible as a story, but I know they truly exist. Angels or demons, they’ve always been there. You can’t just categorize those who can see them as madn because most people can’t."
"Okay, I get it. To you, these are all real and reliable. Then why are you unwilling to cooperate with them to cure yourself?"
"Cooperate with whom?"
"Anyone, won’t demons do?"
"I want to go to Heaven," Constantine said.
"What I’m asking is why you want to go to Heaven," Strange said, sowhat perplexed. "What’s so good about Heaven?"
"When your other option is Satan, wouldn’t anyone want to go to Heaven?" Constantine countered.
Strange hesitated for a mont. This kind of choice didn’t make sense to him. To him, it was like choosing between Emperor Mount Wey and phisto. But in reality, there’s no difference between them. Don’t be fooled into thinking Emperor Mount Wey isn’t as evil, and phisto is full of deceit; when it cos to needing them, you really can’t tell which one might be more reliable.
"You’re mistaken about one thing," Constantine said. "You think I have a choice, but I don’t. From the mont I was born, Satan set his eyes on , and every mont of my life is about trying to get rid of him.
"It’s kind of ridiculous," Constantine smiled self-deprecatingly. "Actually, no matter what I do, I won’t go to Heaven. People who commit suicide can’t go to Heaven."
"Catholic doctrine?" Strange said after a brief pause. "Then just don’t commit suicide, right?"
"Smoking counts as chronic suicide because lung cancer caused by smoking is also a form of suicide."
Strange slapped his forehead and said, "The person who made this rule must be dically ignorant. According to current scientific research, smoking indeed increases the risk of lung cancer, but it’s not necessarily the main cause. With that logic, breathing is also a chronic suicide because everyone who breathes eventually dies."
Constantine sat there in silence, although it wasn’t apparent on the outside, a heavy sense of lancholy emanated from him.
Suddenly, Strange realized that all of this was actually a trap set by Satan. Constantine had been able to see those demons since childhood. He must have been frightened and deeply troubled, suffering greatly. To calm himself, he would seek the help of addictive substances. Whether it was tobacco, alcohol, or drugs, all could offer him temporary relief from his nightmares.
But once he used those things, the gates of Heaven would forever close to him, and his soul would fall into Satan’s hands. Doesn’t it seem like Satan’s conspiracy?
The so-called deeds of evil leading to Hell and acts of kindness bringing entry to Heaven are outright lies for the human race. Because humans are too fragile in the face of these beings, they don’t even need to do anything. All they have to do is frequently show themselves, and they can scare you out of your wits, even turning you into a madman. In such a situation, who has the energy to do a good deed every day?
Perhaps Constantine saw through this point. His persistence in wanting to go to Heaven wasn’t because it was so great, but simply not wanting Satan to succeed. It could be considered the most powerful form of revenge he could manage.
Strange sighed deeply, then said, "Since it has co to this, you might as well take a gamble. Working with might bring a turning point, how about it?"
"First, tell what you want to do," Constantine lit another cigarette, then suddenly coughed violently. He covered his mouth with his hand, and blood seeped through his fingers.
Strange imdiately pressed on Constantine’s shoulder, using magic energy to repair so of the damage to his bronchial tubes and help clear the phlegm from his airway.
Constantine took a deep breath and then began to breathe heavily, like a drowning person suddenly coming ashore. After a long while, he looked up at Strange and said, "Thank you, this might be the first breath of air I’ve taken this year. I’ve blocked Batman’s surveillance; he might co looking soon. Hurry up and say what you have to."
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