Constantine didn't have his usual flippant attitude of nonchalance. Smoke was curled between his eyebrows. When they sharply arched down, he seed rather indifferent, revealing a sort of distant British character that made him exude a uniquely British form of elegance and desirability.
Constantine squatted down, tilting his head to look at Morpheus. No one knew exactly how beautiful he perceived the dream god to be.
However, there was no doubt that when he looked at Morpheus's face, his intoxicated expressions did not lie. Perhaps what he saw was not an individual, but a beautiful dream that he had longed for but had never obtained.
"Morpheus, when I ca to look for you last ti, I did not get the answer that I wanted. Additionally, you no longer allowed to enter the Kingdom of Dreams. Hence, I have no choice but to use this thod to personally say goodnight to you."
Constantine looked into Morpheus's eyes and said, "I knew from a young age, when I was yearning for an answer, who I should turn to. I'd also know, if he wasn't willing to tell , I could use another way to ask him..."
When he shed his flippant nonchalance, the sharpness, obsession, and indifference in Constantine's eyes were no different from the lunatics in Gotham.
Shiller, dressed in a suit, stood next to Morpheus. He straightened his body and tucked his hands into his pants pockets. He turned his head to look at the glowing horizon of the Dreamland and at this mont, his shadow overlapped with that of Constantine's - they both exuded an inexplicably similar disposition.
In this matter, their attitudes were alike. No god, by virtue of their divine status, had the right to refuse to answer their questions.
If they could not get the answer by extending a civil invitation for them, then pointing a gun at humans, demons, or gods was all the sa to them.
Morpheus laid on the floor, his eyes looking at the sky. He was not actually hurt. The ntal hurt was much worse than the physical. Glancing at the desolate surroundings of the Kingdom of Dreams and thinking about the upcoming reconstruction, Morpheus could tell that his long career was coming to an end.
"You all will not have beautiful dreams." Morpheus's eyes appeared sowhat sluggish as he looked at the Dreamland's sky, filled with iridescent clouds and hazy fog. He said, "You... you... and the person standing on the bow of the boat, none of you will have beautiful dreams."
He was referring to Constantine, squatting in front of him, Shiller standing by his side, and Batman distantly overlooking from the ship.
"This is not a curse, just a fact I'm telling you. Only individuals who are unaware of the existence of the Dreamland can have truly aningful beautiful dreams."
"Once you know that your dreams were created by , and that there is a dedicated place to store all your dreams, you will never have a beautiful dream again."
"This is the rule of the Kingdom of Dreams, only those who are willing to give up the truth, not ponder upon the source and destination of their dreams, and sleep peacefully with hope, can have truly beautiful dreams."
"Whereas you, you bloody truth-supremacists, you broke into here, learned the truth of dreams, and dreams will no longer visit you."
Morpheus moved his eyeballs slightly, looking towards Constantine, "When you ca here seeking for a beautiful dream, instead of lying in bed, relaxing and closing your eyes full of hope, you've already lost your qualifications to dream. All those who know of the existence of the dream god in this world will no longer have dreams."
Morpheus looked at Constantine, "You totally brought it on yourself. The reason why you've signed deals with so many demons, who would continuously harass you in your dreams, is because you owe them. The appearance of them in your dreams was not a nightmare, they were simply harassing your soul, and I am not responsible for that."
"The reason why I agreed to your other request is because, in this world, there are people who are naturally born with powers - or should I say, a curse - unlike others. They are surrounded by disasters and soaked in blood, yet they have no other choice."
"Are you sympathising with ?" Constantine asked him.
Morpheus took a deep breath and gritted his teeth, "You, along with this guy, stord into the Kingdom of Dreams, and threw a bomb in here, blowing my ho beyond recognition. And you are asking if I'm sympathising with you?!!"
Constantine got up, looking at the sky of the Kingdom of Dreams. From this angle, nobody could see whether he felt any sadness from learning this truth.
Maybe chasing a beautiful dream seed very childish, not sothing an adult, or Hell Detective Constantine, should do. Yet he was still stubbornly seeking the truth.
Constantine stayed silent for a while, then turned to look at Batman, speaking in a volu that Batman could just about hear, "...that's the thing about magic, the mont you start earnestly pursuing the truth, you've already lost everything."
He took a few more drags from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke. That debauched smile once again spread across his face. He said to Shiller in a lively tone, "Okay, I guess that's the end of this. The favour I owed you from helping you against those guys with green light coming out of them, you've repaid."
He tossed the nearly extinguished cigarette butt onto the ground, crushing it with his foot. Bending over, he stretched out his hand to help Morpheus up, saying, "I'm sorry, I just wanted the truth."
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