Approximately a few minutes later, Constantine appeared outside of Wayne Manor. Greeting him was the butler, Alfred, who ca bearing protective gear and a disinfectant spray. Alfred sprayed Constantine for a few minutes, and by the ti Constantine erged from the dense white mist, he was completely drenched in the scent of disinfectant.
Coughing twice, he waved his arm in front of him to clear the mist and then entered the manor's main hall. He stopped about two ters from Aisha and Dick, not because he wanted to, but because Alfred, having set aside the disinfectant spray, began polishing his double-barreled shotgun.
Just as Constantine was about to protest Alfred's treatnt, he heard Aisha singing a tune – eerie and ethereal. In that mont, Constantine looked up, his arms radiating a magical glow as he cast a solemn gaze towards the ceiling.
Bruce also looked up but saw nothing. He squinted, observing Constantine. A faint glow shimred in Constantine's eyes, mirroring the magical light emanating from his hands.
However, just as Constantine was seriously preparing to cast a spell, his gaze shifted from the ceiling to Aisha's face. When Aisha opened her mouth, Constantine was left frozen in place.
Throughout this, the pair seed to be performing a silent play, acting towards the empty air, with neither Bruce, Dick, nor Alfred witnessing anything.
Suddenly, Constantine straightened up and dropped his hands. "Has your daughter... ever displayed any peculiarities?" he asked Bruce.
Bruce wanted to describe them, but Aisha's entire life had been anything but normal. Words failed him.
"She might have a natural affinity for magic like ," Constantine mused, his hands no longer glowing. "Or perhaps, she too is cursed, destined to deal with these bizarre entities." Looking up at the manor's ceiling, he continued, "A long ti ago, I unknowingly cast a spell summoning a demon. And then…"
He shook his head, not going into details, but Bruce could imagine the rest. "Are you saying Aisha just summoned a demon?"
"No, it might be worse than that," Constantine replied, glancing at Aisha. "A kind of dark creature I've never seen before. But... she devoured them. She bit them in the head and swallowed them."
Aisha began squealing about being "so full" and how "delicious" it was. Bruce lifted her up to inspect her for any injuries, finding none and no change in her deanor. "Can I see this monster?" he asked Constantine.
"You can't use magic, so you can't see it," Constantine initially declined. But under the steady gaze of both Bruce and Alfred, he finally relented, "Alright, given that you've lent money in the past."
With a snap of his fingers, flas appeared before him. With a wave, the flas lined up and ford a circle in mid-air.
The flas touched the ground, soaring up and connecting, forming a complex magical circle. As its lines illuminated, Bruce felt his surroundings shift.
All the furniture and walls warped, emanating various colors, reminiscent of hallucinogenic drug-induced visions.
Bruce shook his head, trying to dispel the illusion. He then heard Aisha's voice, singing not just a simple nursery rhy but accompanied by eerie, ghostly laughter.
Suddenly, a chilling scream echoed. Bruce looked up to see winged, black creatures flying in, trying to land on Aisha's head and shoulders. But she swiftly caught and ate them.
Their screeches were so piercing that Bruce's vision shattered, leaving him facing the innocent-looking Aisha.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he turned to Constantine, "Is this what the world looks like through your eyes?"
"Not entirely," Constantine answered. "I only occasionally use this vision. What you saw isn't an illusion but another, very real dinsion. We call it the spirit realm."
"You have to expertly wield magic in this realm, without any distraction, or else it may consu you forever."
"So, what exactly was she singing? And what are those black creatures?" Constantine inquired, equally perplexed. Just as he was about to approach, the sound of a shotgun being cocked halted him. He stepped back, raising his hands, "No, don't point that at , I won't go near her."
"It's a nursery rhy," Bruce realized the situation might be too much for him alone. Gratefully, he wasn't the lone wolf Riddler of the future. A few phone calls later, Constantine, Hal, and Schiller gathered in Wayne Manor's hall.
These individuals, to Bruce's knowledge, were users of special energies, experienced in wielding magic-like powers and understood mysticism.
Schiller picked up Aisha, using his Grey Mist vision to inspect her, finding nothing amiss. Hal's Green Lantern ring, which couldn't scan Parallax, still dutifully checked Dick, revealing no harm either.
“Let think…” Schiller, holding Aisha, settled on the sofa. Gently setting her to one side and stroking her hair, he remarked, “I understand that the chaos and darkness in Gotham isn’t entirely due to its governance.”
“After all, Brooklyn, which is quite close and has the sa governance, doesn’t face these issues. This indicates that there’s a hidden mystical power within Gotham.”
“I've always pondered about what they use to control the city. re rainfall isn't sufficient.”
“It seems they might have introduced a nursery rhy. This rhy isn’t just a simple song – it embodies mystical powers. So even if the lyrics are tough and the lody intricate, it still spreads among children.”
“Children singing this rhy might attract these dark monsters. But since not everyone can see the spiritual realm that Constantine talks about, they might be influenced without even realizing it.”
“Without investigation, one can assu these monsters aren’t teaching the children good habits. The dark energy might make Gotham’s children more aggressive and wicked.”
“It’s hard to imagine,” Hal concluded. “Don’t they have any morality or conscience? How can they target children?”
Hal has a soft spot for children. During his travels between Gotham and the Green Lantern Corps headquarters, he’d occasionally visit the Living Hell educational institute, teaching about aviation.
Initially, he was vexed by the unruly children who didn’t listen. But when he shared stories of legendary pilots, he saw a genuine eagerness in their eyes.
“I always believe that every child has the potential to improve,” Hal, patting Dick's head, shared. “Though their backgrounds might be rotten, education can make a difference. They can’t possibly get worse than they already are.”
“Yet, generations have passed in Gotham, and it never improved,” Bruce opined, resting his chin on his palm. “Over these generations, many went to Gotham University or prestigious institutions in other cities.”
“Many of them returned to Gotham. But invariably, they never brought positive change to the city. They just blended in, becoming indistinguishable from the masses.”
“So, if we genuinely wish to reduce cri, we must tackle this issue first,” Bruce remarked, his nostrils flaring in a cold deanor. Whenever he showcased this deanor, Schiller saw a glimpse of the future mature Batman.
“Aisha could probably devour those monsters,” mused Constantine. “But relying on her to sing and eat simultaneously might not be effective against all of Gotham’s dark forces.”
“Eat! Yummy! Aisha eat!” Aisha cried out. Young children always seem to get hungry quickly. It hadn't been an hour, and she was hungry again.
Watching Aisha prepare to sing again, Constantine stretched out his hand and summoned fire. Hal dodged the flas, exclaiming, “Wow, cool!”
Just as Constantine was about to reply, Aisha's singing began. Through spiritual vision, Schiller perceived a grinding noise within Aisha’s song, reminiscent of Parallax grinding its teeth.
No wonder Aisha could eat a monster whole. Her form had shrunk. If she was still the gargantuan source of fear, Parallax, she’d consu more than just one.
As the magic circle activated, Schiller’s vision montarily shifted but quickly steadied, covered by a bluish-grey filter. Grey Mist inford him, “Detected a change in visual nerve signals. Adjusted to the normal view.”
Schiller could now clearly see the monsters. Where others saw winged black mist, Schiller saw the skeletal Owls, with feathers clinging to their bones, green flas in their eye sockets, and a dark energy trail as they soared, their calls echoing like sinister laughter.
As they circled closer to Aisha, Schiller snorted and stared them down. Slowly, he lifted his umbrella. Energy from Knull, collected in the Marvel universe, was channeled from Grey Mist through the umbrella.
Others, drawn to his motion, watched as Schiller swung the umbrella towards the Owls and chanted:
“Summon divine guardians!”
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