Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Disney, Square Enix or Detective Comics. They rightfully belong to their respective owners.
"Speech"
'Thoughts'
Radio/TV
"Headset/Flashback"
-Scene Shift-
Chapter 7: Times of Reprisal
Stories have been gathered throughout the world for countless years.
Ones of folklore, fantasy and myth. Ones of histories, their conflicts and struggles. Ones told by winners and those from the occasional defeats. Ones by poets, playwrights and singers. Of those who inspire and have been inspired. Of ideals and philosophy. So on and so forth.
Stories could be moving and inspiring just as much as they can be terrifying and vice versa. Giving precautionary tales and underlying lessons for people to be their better selves.
These could come to people easily as if breathing air or hard as if performing a one in a trillion miracle. Either through dedication and research and training, having an affinity or what could be argued of having a subconscious connection to another world or realm.
Words can be altered, adapted, perverted as time goes on. But such things will not last. They eventually return to their roots, showing the truth from the fabrication; no matter how hard one tries. For they'll expose greater stories in the end.
And many of these stories can be dangerous. Not because of their content, but of what they could spark and ignite in a people. Reason why many seek to either silence them or have spread like wildfire, in some shape or form for they hold untold power.
For many stories, they come from Dreams. To many tellers of these tales, Morpheus was their patron and they were his people. And these tales, if destroyed or lost in the mortal realms, will forever have a permanent place in Dreams.
At the present time of our tale, one such occurrence was happening.
Across the world, stories were being told. On newspapers, radio stations, televisions, online sites. For at this time, they were generally talking about the same event.
One which was unknowingly -by the majority of the world- enacted by Dr. John Dee, aka Doctor Destiny.
"-Relief efforts have been going across most parts of the world. Yet several governments-"
"-Death tolls so far have been in the thousands -on average- in just-"
"Millions have been affected. No one knows if they'll ever recover from this ordeal-"
"-Many hospitalized, not enough workers to save them all with what-"
"-it was like being in a warzone, for crying out loud!"
"-massive breakouts-"
"-I wouldn't know what would've happened my kids if these young heroes didn't come in-in time-"
"-Massive arrests-"
"End times were upon us-"
"-Why weren't the Justice League here?!"
"-just stopped out of nowhere."
"Fell asleep-"
"-god knows how we survived, but how with a massive knockout and-"
Many news segments and headlines were on full display -even if fragmentary- on hologram projectors with sixteen individuals watching within the same room. Eventually things took more focus on a news segment run by GBS.
"I honestly don't know how many of these I've gone through in a short span of time." Spoke news anchor G. Gordon Godfrey with a narrowed glance as he faced one of the cameras. "So many reports and coverages of what transpired days ago. Feels longer, if you ask me, in preparation for this but I'll be frank for the summary of things."
Behind him, various clips of the chaotic carnage were being played with the occasional photos being posted.
"Out of nowhere, like a timed bomb, chaos suddenly went off with no warning whatsoever nearly all over the globe. No one knew how it happened or the reason why. People theorized left and right, a means of some focus towards the situation. Religious Armageddon, chemical hallucinogens, coordinated attacks, so on and so forth. Then out of nowhere, everyone calmed down and went into a sudden, yet peaceful slumber. There has been no clear answer, despite what investigations have been done thus far." The graphic images and clips ended as Gordon continued on. "But a good load of questions have been raised on a singular detail: where was the Justice League in all of this?"
Images of various heroes were now posted in the background. Most were some well known sidekicks/proteges to some members of the Justice League such as Speedy, Kid Flash, Batgirl and Robin. Soon other pictures showed other individuals who were new to the scene like Icon and his partner Rocket, and a pair of unknown teenage girls; a masked girl in a stage magician's attire to a floating green skinned girl in a blue and white attire with red straps beside her. Those who were considered minor like Blue Devil, Plastic Man, The Atom. There was even a picture of the Green Lantern Guy Gardner and a trenchcoat wearing magic practitioner thrown into the mix. There were even some others who could be seen helping the public in some shape or form, but it was hard to tell who they were in the transitioning collage and the quality of the photos and videos.
"Okay sure, give credit where credit's due." Resumed the news anchor as his face was a mix of relaxed, yet stern. "A great number of these heroes and other individuals have stepped up and worked hard to help maintain a lot of the issues with the absence of the Justice League. Truly risking their lives and pushing themselves to the limits to make up for the lost assistance. Having to go all over the globe, stretching out all they could to save as many as they could in this crisis. For that, you have my thanks, along with so many others. We applaud and salute you for your efforts."
These images were then replaced with those of the Justice League.
"Wish the same could be said with the Justice League." Gordon said with a slight snarl before composing himself. "I had gone through my promise and personally went to the Hall of Justice, requesting answers just like everyone else. Here is what I got out of it."
A camera feed soon played, showing G. Gordon Godfrey standing outside of the Hall of Justice, located over at Washington D.C. From his surroundings, a number of people stood outside, trying to get inside for a number of reasons. Either from the usual tours that would go on each day or wanting to perhaps see where the Justice League were presently at.
"Excuse me." Began the news anchor as he went to the door and tried to speak to the League's public liaison. "Ms. Cobert, I-"
"Mr. Godfrey, I know what you wish to ask, but the League will release a statement when possible." Said the liaison before shutting the door and locking it.
"...Okay then…"
The feed ended, which the news anchor reacted in turn. "Did you see that folks? League public liaison, Catherine Cobert, literally stonewalled me before I could have the chance to speak." He said with a growl. "So I ask you, people of the world? Can many of these heroes be reliant with the truth? What secrets are the Justice League keeping from us? Or are they just too embarrassed and unprepared to not throw us a bone, for goodness sakes?!"
The news feed came to an end with the video pausing on the holographic projector.
Peering out, we see the sixteen individuals watching all of this were the members of the Justice League.
"...I told you we should've gotten at least something out there for some people's satisfaction." Said Green Arrow.
"Cause now we're getting a lot of hate on us." Captain Marvel said, supporting the Emerald Archer.
"It's not our fault."
"I know, but do they know?" Came Aquaman's inquiry. "Many people relied on us. Even if we all can't be there, people seeing some of us would've had some hope in them that we were there for them. Showing we didn't abandon them in their most dire time of need."
"We should've at least had some of our own on Earth at the time." Captain Atom says.
"Yet this came out of nowhere while we were offworld."
"Still think the whole "all hands on deck" protocol would screw us in off-world scenarios." Said the Flash, mildly glaring at Batman.
"We had no choice-"
"We most certainly did and yet it was all or nothing. And look what happened as a result."
"I agree. Yes the off world issue required a good chunk of us, but we should've at least had a few of us stay behind. Yet paranoia made things feel irrational." Was Superman's argument.
Green Lantern Hal Jordan soon spoke. "Hypothetical here, what if an enemy expects everyone to show up and goes with full force? While said party is distracted or ultimately defeated, this planet is defenseless against the enemy forces with no one on reserves."
This got several agreeable nods in response.
"It does help on moral boost whilst attempting to dwindle some enemy spirits," spoke Diana, the Wonder Woman, "yet such a method is often a double edged sword."
Flash looked around the room awkwardly and decided to say something. "I believe we're getting sidetracked with the purpose of our meeting here."
"Agreed." Said Red Tornado. "We should get back to the matter at hand."
Zatara nodded. "We're here to work up a proper statement once figuring out what exactly happened."
"What do we have to begin with?" Asked John Stewart.
"A few things to note." Spoke the Dark Knight.
With several keystrokes, several projections appeared before all League members.
"After things calmed down, I was able to learn that our storage facility over at Mayhew was broken into prior to the global event."
"That is troublesome." Spoke Orin. "No one outside of us knows of its significance, let alone what lies within its walls."
"Especially the fact it's only entrance is guarded by high level spells and tight security measures were swiftly taken out in a matter of moments."
"Do we know who did it?" Asked Captain Atom. "Is there at least a security camera installed in front of the door?"
"Yes, unfortunately…"
Pulling up the connection to the aforementioned security camera, they saw there was a bug severely blocking the lens. Not to mention there were some stains which distorted the viewing.
"...Goes to show you'll really need to clean those." The Flash said dryly.
"Great. So we have no idea who broke in." Snarked Green Arrow.
"On the magical side of things, it had to be someone extremely powerful." Said Zatara as he was the one to create the magical security measure in the first place. "They practically bulldozed through the barrier like a pencil through thin paper."
"That doesn't explain the tech side of things."
"Even if we don't know who broke down the entrance, we have footage of another person coming to the warehouse." Says the Batman.
Coming from another security camera, it showed a car pulling up to the storage facility. Someone came out from the passenger door, went to the driver and soon shot the driver dead all before going into the area. Minutes passed before the person came out of the place as it revealed more of his appearance, courtesy of the glowing object in his possession.
"Whose the walking pile of skin and bones?" Asked Hal Jordan.
"One Doctor John Dee, otherwise known as Doctor Destiny."
Newer projections soon appeared, showing the man in several aspects. The first of his civilian appearances was taken years ago. Another of a photo taken from Batman's cowl, installed into the lenses back when he and other Leaguers fought him as the villian before their group's public reveal.
"Wow, he really let himself go." Came Captain Marvel's comment, clearly disturbed when seeing the comparison of the then and now. "He looks like one of those guys from that Russian Sleep Experiment."
"Clearly." Said Dinah, the Black Canary. "What the hell happened to him?"
It was Superman who regalled a cliffnotes tale to the other League members who weren't there about a decade ago. How they were dealing with a disgraced scientist who began to affect many with his inventions, especially with a glowing ruby which enhanced his equipment. After his first defeat, he fled and continued his work but instead of the waking world he somehow did it while in the realm of sleep. Thus it had the League and several additions to get involved and take care of the growing threat.
With this all was said and done, Batman continued on where the Kryptonian left off. "After we defeated Doctor Dee back then, we needed to cut him off from accessing the realm of sleep so he could continue on with his work. Thus we had to rely on Kent Nelson, Jason Blood and a few other trustworthy and skilled magical practitioners to sever his link. After that, we had him admitted to Arkham Asylum."
"By the sound of it, you guys ended up causing another iteration of the Russian Sleep Experiment that spanned for nearly a decade instead of just a span of weeks." Said the champion of Shazam.
"We never knew it would result in that." Says Superman.
"Seems like you never bothered to check up on him." Green Arrow commented.
"Clearly a mistake which needs to be resolved."
"And where is this guy now?" Asked John Stewart, curious as he had broken out of his cell long before the world went to a chaotic hell.
"Back in Arkham Asylum."
"...How?"
"We don't exactly know." Said Batman. "I investigated-"
"You mean finally seeing him after all these years."
"-and confronted him in his cell." Resumed the Caped Crusader after the Flash's interruption. "Turned out the Scarecrow was in it as well, for some reason. Doctor Dee was not cooperative, but Jonathan Crane was."
"About what? What's that burlap sack of your rogues gallery got?"
"A bit of information as to who brought him back into Arkham. A teenage boy wearing a hooded black leather coat with a tall bone white man wearing black clothing."
"That's rather vague."
"Will you need my assistance in acquiring better descriptions?" Asked the Martian Manhunter.
"Very much appreciative."
"Getting back to things, what's that glowing rock in Dee's hand?" Asked Hawkwoman.
"The Materioptikon, from what John Dee called it." Said Batman. "It's what he used to wreak havoc years ago."
"It's actually called the D'orlar."
People turned over to J'onn J'onzz with questioning looks on their faces.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"That's what the stone of binding is called."
"...And you would know this, why?"
"You never brought this up before, if I recall correctly." Said Diana. "Why now?"
"Forgive me, my friends. But I am honest that I never knew of the ruby's significance back then. How I know of it now pertains to what my niece told me when I finally came home from our off-world mission."
With that said, the Martian probed the other Leaguers' minds in order to show them what he had gained from M'gann's memory she shared with him.
…Except for Red Tornado, cause he doesn't have an organic mind. All he could do was sit there and wait for everyone else to get out of the memory viewing.
There they saw a hooded teenager appearing in the young Martian's residence -rather abruptly- with M'gann confronting him. This soon changed with the arrival of the ancient Martian God, Lord L'zoril, who soon asked where his ruby was located before leaving.
During this memory share, a number of reactions were given.
First off, instead of what J'onn J'onzz saw of a giant flaming black skull, they instead saw a pale white man with raven black hair with bright stars in his eyes. For the Thanagarians, however, there was the factor of the Dream King having the addition to a pair of large raven wings jetting out of his back. Second was the factor of the Martian god's other name who he was referred to, which drew in the attention of Orin, Diana and Zatara.
Red Tornado soon took notice of the others coming out of the brief mind share, making him ask the obvious.
"Were there any successful reveals?"
"Several. We now know who broke into our storage facility, letting Dee waltz right in and take the ruby."
"Though it doesn't explain how he actually acquired it if Morpheus got in first."
"Who?"
Orin, Diana and Zatara shared a look, knowing the particular topic of the Endless will be extensive and sidetracking at this time.
"We'll explain a bit later."
Getting back on track, Green Arrow brought up a particular, yet random detail. "And it seems we know who the kid is -in a manner- on who stopped those terrorists in London before our off-world mission; given his outfit."
"Along with him admitting he and Morpheus broke into the Hall of Justice without raising any alarms." Added in the Flash.
"That's what I thought as well. The former, not the first." Said the Martian leaguer for some bits of clarification. "More so when M'gann told me of his confirmation when he spent time with both her and Zatanna."
Zatara was quick to react when his daughter was mentioned. "He was with them?"
"He was. Didn't you know?"
The Italian spellcaster got a twitch in his eye and eyebrow, which was all the answer the others received.
"Boy, that's gonna be an awkward conversation when he gets home." Flash muttered to Hal Jordan and Green Arrow, earning small snickers from them.
The others saw that in the one news report, M'gann and Zatanna were out on the field helping the chaotic masses as best as possible in Manhattan and other New York areas. Thus they figured the girl's father would've known of further involvement. Apparently that wasn't the entire case.
With this bit of reveal, Batman focused more on their Martian teammate with a singular, shared question.
"What else were they able to learn from this Roxas?"
Clearly by the end of this meeting, the Leaguers will be able to come up with a statement to bring up to the news media outlets. Hopefully it'll be enough with what they had to take out to sait the masses. For the full truth will be problematic.
On another note, they'll be needing to find this Roxas fellow, hoping he'd shed more light with what's going on.
-Greenwich, London-
It was nearing the twilight hours of the day. Even then, the sky was a thick overcast as it was starting to drizzle. Not much to make people have umbrellas out to block out any form of downpour.
The street lights were on and so many from the buildings all around. They somewhat illuminated much of the wreckage done on this part of London after what occurred with the chaotic event some days ago.
A lot of the cleanup has been taken care of. All that's left is the construction to repair much of the damage done all around. Even then, the wounds which have been made on not just this city but countless others around the world will take time to heal over from this travesty.
Questions were still being spun all over with hardly any answers being woven together. Far more for those who weren't connected to the supernatural.
For John Constantine, he had a vague idea on how this all went down.
All he could figure out through guess work was there being a massive influence blanketing the globe to put people through whatever occurred. It was clearly supernatural in nature but the scale to pull that off was ridiculously horrific.
Things got bad. So much so did the magical con-man have to get involved in helping people.
He didn't care what people thought of him when he was saving as many people as he could. He just needed to do the right thing so most people may not be like him or draw in unnecessary problems from the demonic kind.
John wouldn't voice it, but it felt a bit good on his conscience. It wasn't much, but it is there.
Presently, he was walking towards the Old Royal Naval College located here in Greenwich. The reason why, he'll find out soon enough for the exact details.
But as for who had him coming here, well he was just about to meet them.
Walking into the Painted Hall, John smiled at an old friend. "'Ello, Ric."
A woman turned over, who was pacing back and forth with a large book in her hand, and smiled at the blonde spellcaster.
"You're here! Thank God."
This was Erica Neilson, otherwise known as Ric the Vic, a middle aged woman of Pakistani/Indian descent. She's an old friend and associate of his in the Church of England. Does well with her being a vicar instead of being a nun like most people are led to believe.
"Not as a favor though." Said John as he walked up the small flight of stairs. "I'm getting paid, or I'm going to bed."
In the past, his vicar friend would've called him on numerous occasions and gotten paid for his services. They would've been out of favor, but Erica had already used them all up some time ago.
Erica exhaled a sigh, walking beside the occultist. "Of course you're getting paid. This is strictly professional." She soon eyed him with a shaky smile. "Unless you wanna get drinks after."
"Tell me what's going on. Why'd you call me?"
"The usual reason. I have a soul in need."
John turned over, having the surrounding candles from the candelabras and other means of light fixtures highlight more of his stern features. "Who is it?"
"Does it matter… if I double your fee?" Came the vicar's response.
John said nothing as he looked at his friend, who was growing a tad more nervous.
"Triple it."
Once more, no verbal response was given. Only a visual one with it screaming 'cut the crap'.
"Her family has means."
This caused a small huff to come out of Constantine's mouth. "If her family is in any way noble or royal, the answer is no."
At the early parts of his career, John thought helping the royals and nobles of the UK was some sort of honor. Fulfilling some boyhood dream that if he did well enough of a good job, he could obtain a fancy knighthood or some other title for the deed.
Such a naive thought.
In actuality, he's been screwed by them a good number of times, making things difficult for any future jobs for them if hired on again.
"I'm done with that lot. I told the bloody duke and queen-"
"The queen doesn't know she's here."
Things shifted and fitted into place in John's head, letting him form a cheeky smile. "Is it the princess?"
"She showed up about an hour ago."
And that just confirmed it without any form of deniability.
"What for?"
"She demanded that I marry them before the palace found out, and the press."
This quickly shifted John's expression to be quizzical. He thought it was merely a simple exorcism to a degree. But stopping a wedding? Well that's a first.
"Why, who's she marrying?"
"Kevin Brody."
"...Kevin Brody, the footballer? The bloke's rubbish."
"He's fit though."
The Englishman rolled his eyes. "Just because a Goldsmiths-educated princess wants to marry some naff winger, doesn't mean she needs an exorcist to clear up her apparent, spoiled conscience."
"It's not just that. Just chat with her and you'll see-"
"No, it's too risky with the royals. Trying to sweep everything under the rug on the scandals and screw over the clean up crew. You know that as much as I do."
"But-"
"If our chat goes wrong, I've got a dead princess on my hand, a demon on the loose, and no one to pay my fee. Let alone on the fact I'll be hunted and put down like a dog."
It was then did John and Erica hear something. It was faint at first until it came back around again.
"...Is that screaming?"
"Fuck! What are you doing to me?!"
"Jesus fuck." John glanced over to Erica. "Is that her?"
The vicar only confirmed with a comment. "Can you not smell the sulfur?"
John continued to hear the princess shouting, screaming all the while depicting the faint whiff of rotten deviled eggs.
It wasn't long before John made up his mind.
"Where is she?"
Erica smiled, feeling bits of relief. "She's in my office-"
"Fucking like a bitch in heat if the screaming is of any indication."
A book was smacked across his chest, courtesy of a slightly irate vicar.
"You're gonna need the Rituale Romanum."
Taking hold of the item, John shook his head. "I can't barge in spouting Latin at her. Has she been restrained, or is that why she sounds like she's taking a dick up her arse and enjoying it?"
"She sounds like that 'cause she's possessed by a fucking demon."
"I gotta at least ask. Any reason for this shotgun wedding?"
"With what happened earlier this week, I think a lot of people are not thinking straight."
"Can't say I wouldn't blame 'em." John sighed as they got ever closer to Erica's office. "Can we at least drug her first? Get her drunk, tie her up a little bit?"
Erica looked scandalized. "She's British royalty."
"They love that shit."
"Any other ideas?"
Constantine looked at his old friend before glancing down a bit. "You got another one of those in my size?"
Erica looked down, soon realizing what the occultist was gonna do.
Minutes passed as John now stood before the British royal and the footballer. The couple were dressed in their finest clothes as they were pristine done with nothing out of place.
The upcoming bride was smiling as she held a bouquet of flowers in one hand while the other grasped her future husband. Said man was smiling, but rather nervously.
As for John, he presently wore a spare clerical shirt and collar from one of the other clergy members kept lying around for emergencies. He needed this to sell the part of him being a spare member of the cloth being called in and rushed over here.
So far, he sold his part well with the occultist being polite to the upcoming married couple before proceeding with the ceremony.
Though looking at them now, he wondered how the Princess ain't squirming like most people possessed by demons within sanctified grounds.
Either someone made the property unholy, which is unlikely from what he can still sense, or the demon was really powerful to not make such reactions visible.
With the bible opened, John began the ceremony. "Do you, Princess, take this-"
"I do." Quickly said the princess.
Kevin looked over and gave his lover a look. "Wait, babe, are you absolutely sure you wanna do this?"
The princess looked over to him a tad sternly, yet lovingly. "I said "I do" because I do, Kevin."
"No, I mean, you sure you don't want a big royal-wedding-of-the-century type wedding? Like the queen and photographers and stuff like what your cousins had?"
Constantine somewhat wondered the same thing as most royals and nobles really wanted that these days. But it seemed the Princess was one of those people who wanted a small, intimate one… oddly without any witnesses to prove the marriage outside of a marriage license.
"I just want you." The British royal turned over and glanced back at the man officiating the marriage. "Get on with it, please."
John nodded before glancing back at the groom. "Do you, Kevin, take-"
Before the footballer could say a thing, he soon gave out an audible wince.
"Y-Yeah, yeah, I do." He said, squirming a little on his side.
Glancing down, John saw the Princess was squeezing Kevin's hand a bit too hard.
'Seems the bloke wants to back out, but can't.' Thought the occultist before speaking to the couple. "Then repeat after me."
What came out of his mouth was a Latin verse. The couple thought it was odd at first, but went along with it anyway.
This continued on with John speaking another Latin verse or two when he got a reaction.
A cough went out, with the person hunching over slightly.
Kevin gave out a chuckle. "Sorry, I've been fasting." He looked over to the Princess. "Just in case there were photographers. You know what I'm saying?"
The Princess gave a smile of understanding before looking at John.
When she did, she saw him looking at Kevin a little longer than needed with a curious expression.
The Englishman resumed speaking in Latin, in which the couple repeated.
This time, things took more of an effect with Kevin hunching over in pain.
"S-Sorry, can we just-"
Kevin's request was ignored as John started to speak more in Latin and focused more attention on the groom.
The Princess let go of the footballer and gave him a concerned look.
"Are you going to be sick?" She asked, which was ignored. "Kevin? Are you going to be sick during our wedding?"
Latin chants continued as squelching noises were coming out of Kevin's mouth.
It wasn't long after a long arm came out of the footballer's mouth.
It wasn't long after did it fully come out with another following. The princess steps back in horror, quickly letting out a loud scream when her lover was ripped in half and blood went everywhere, painting the Painted Hall in a rather bleak way.
"Ric!"
Erica came running out, halting soon after as she looked at the revealed demon alongside the Princess and the occultist.
The bloodstained demon was human in disposition in body and limbs, but the head was elongated. Its ears, like its teeth, nose and two mouths were pointed. And when the blood was dripping more off of its form, they could see a litany of scars across every bit of the surface.
"You were right about the demon, wrong about the host." He said to the vicar. "Get her outta here, now."
Erica didn't need to be told twice as she quickly grabbed the weeping Princess and booked it.
Before the demon could try to snatch the British Royal, a yellow magical glyph appeared and held it back. The conjurer had his hand up all the while continuing the Latin incantation.
"Ssss… You… talk too much."
"Tell me your name and I'll stop."
If John is able to know their name, it'll be far easier for him to banish it back into the pits of Hell. If not, then things will be far harder.
"Why would I do that?" Hissed the demon. "When there are far more enjoyable ways to make you stop?"
Before Constantine could speak back a retort, someone suddenly spoke within the Painted Hall.
"His name is Choronzon. A Duke of Hell serving as one of Beelzebub's captains."
Both demon and con-man looked over and saw a hooded teenager all in black. Pulling the hood off his head revealed his features to them both.
"Kid?"
Roxas smiled at Constantine. "Hello there, John."
Choronzon snarled and hissed from his two mouths. "Ssss. You… little sssshit! Do you know what your companion did to me!"
"You did it yourself, losing to Morpheus in the oldest game." The Keybearer eyed the demon, analytically. "Can see you were harshly tortured for the humiliation."
"I should've won!"
"You should've willingly given back the helm. But no, your pride got the better of you. And I bet you wanted to marry that princess to regain some credit."
The duke of Hell snarled and lunged at the Keybearer.
At an instant, Oathkeeper and Oblivion flashed into Roxas' leather gloved hands. He coated them with his primary element, Light, and struck the demon hard.
The blow was painful, given how pure the Light in the double sword strike was. And it was rather visible with the burns on his flesh.
Before getting up to attack once more, ethereal chains sprouted from the bloodied floor as a glowing yellow sigil appeared beneath him.
The Latin incantation continued on from John's mouth as the floor beneath the sigil went from yellow to red. Alongside the ethereal chains were smokey ones which further ensnared the demonic duke.
"N-NOOO! I can't go back! Not yet!" Roared Choronzon.
"Run along and fuck off back to Hell."
Once Constantine said this, Choronzon was getting dragged back to the fiery realm of Lucifer Morningstar.
With the doorway slowly closing back up, the duke of the eighth circle sought to pry himself out. It was all for naught as Roxas stepped to the portal and slammed his Keyblades down into the floor. With a twisting motion, a large magical glyph appeared and amplified the portal.
And just like that the doorway into Hell was swiftly closed up with a loud locking sound emanating from within the Painted Hall.
Prying his Keyblades out of the floor, Roxas dismissed them before looking at the Englishman, who was rather quizzical. "Just made sure he won't be coming to the Mortal Plane for a long time."
This had the magical con-man bark out a laugh, closing the book in his hand in the process.
"Thanks kid. Because of you, my fee got tripled tonight." Constantine ignored Roxas' questioning look as he reared his head back and loudly spoke. "Oi, Ric! Whom do I invoice for this, Church of England or Buckingham Palace?"
Sometime later, John walked outside of the Old Royal Naval College with his preferred set of clothing. The drizzling rain was no longer present, only the aftermath of the freshly poured rain along the cobblestone and pavement and surfaces.
"So… how is she?"
"Shaken up." Said Erica. "Badly, mind you, but she'll be fine… after some therapy. Poor thing."
"Anyone comin' by to get her?"
"The duke and duchess are on their way." The vicar scrunched up her face a little. "She didn't seem possessed, now that I think about it."
"She was. Love fucks you up if not careful." Came John's comment before giving his old friend a concerned look. "I recommend she gets cleansed in more ways than one."
"She will."
It was shortly after did Erica see someone walk outside and step past him. "Who's the kid? Didn't see him with you."
"A friend, Ric."
"Hope not a protege or an apprentice like-"
"He's not, I can tell you that." John said quickly.
"Right." Erica soon walked inside and went to close the doors. "I'll be sure your fee is paid by the end of the week."
"See that you do."
Walking away from the building, John eyed the Keybearer, who pried his Organization coat off to reveal an entirely different outfit underneath. The blonde Nobody let go of the leather article, having it disburse into wisps of grainy darkness.
With that bit of display done and over with, Constantine noted more of Roxas' attire and wore a cheeky smirk.
"Like the outfit." He began. "Seems you're paying homage to me."
Roxas' blue eyes blinked in confusion, looking down to his present civilian attire before glancing to John's for comparison's sake.
"I don't think so."
"Sure it is. And don't worry, I take no offense."
Blue eyes rolled in response. "Whatever."
The Englishman chuckled as he stood a foot away from the younger blonde. "Seeing you here tells me your trip to Hell turned out alright."
"Along with getting the rest of Morpheus' belongings, yes… to a degree."
"I bet there's quite the story to tell, given what I heard that Choronzon bloke say in your time down under."
"It is."
"We can walk and talk, if you'd like. There's even a nice place to eat nearby I know for an early dinner."
"And I bet you're paying."
"With your help not long ago, yes. I feel like celebrating."
The Keybearer shook his head a little with a small smile.
Walking as they were, they began talking. John going first with a handful of things, given he could tell Roxas' tale will be lengthier than his.
It went off with some normal stuff that went on his typical day to day life. Nothing special and out of the ordinary with going out, having challenges to deal with. All that and more. And then the whole situation with the world going to shit and surviving through all that.
Eventually John got to a topic he got interested in.
"When you told me Morpheus had his things stolen by the Old Daemon King Burgess, I wouldn't exactly have been surprised." Said John, resuming quickly after for an explanation. "His cult boasts some shite he had Death locked up in his basement or even the Devil. But for it to Morpheus of all people…"
"They were just covering their mistake of snatching the wrong entity." Roxas added in. "Never knowing the ramifications of their actions would have dire consequences for nearly a century."
Constantine snorted, remembering the earlier detail when Roxas briefly filled him in the day they first met. "Clearly. Actually went and checked them out recently over at Wych Cross and do you know what I found?"
"I'm sure you'll tell me."
"Nothing."
"...Uh… what?"
"Nothing, that's what I said."
"I'm clearly not following-"
"I mean, everything within their base of Fawney Rig is gone. The decorations, furniture, artifacts. Everything within its walls, picked clean. And no one I could find as well. All that's left is the manor itself."
Hearing this, Roxas pondered aloud. "So that's what he meant…"
John cocked an eyebrow. "What he- you know something, don't you? C'mon fess up."
"To be honest, I didn't know what Morpheus was referring to when he had some unfinished business with Burgess' cult. Didn't know he'd go back and take care of them for good."
The Con-man could tell the kid didn't know as this was the first he was hearing about it. And some part of John could tell there was more to Morpheus' "unfinished business with Burgess' cult" than just cleaning out Fawney Rig of everything.
Another thing he'll be looking into to see the bigger picture pertaining to Dream's former captors. Learning the full punishment they'd suffer for their crime.
By the time they got to the place John had in mind for them to dine at, Roxas soon began his own tale since they last saw each other whilst seating at a booth near the back of the establishment.
The time in Hell was rather interesting, having Constantine become a tad fascinated with what occurred. Yes he knew of who the Hellish Triumvirate were, but for Roxas to be in the presence of all three at the same time had to be nerve wracking at the very heart of Lucifer's territory. He was soon informed of what Roxas referred to when seeing Choronzon earlier at the Old Royal Naval College with him playing the oldest game against Morpheus.
Seems there'll be some ideas for John to use if he decides to challenge a demon to such a game and what to really expect from it.
It was from there that the Englishman got a rough outline of the kid's time with two upcoming proteges of Justice League members after he and Morpheus separated. He heard how well he enjoyed his time with the two girls… all before everything went to shit all over the planet.
John was able to learn who was the cause of it all and how it was done. Roxas eventually battled Doctor Destiny and for as long as he could before Morpheus had to eventually surrender with how wrecked the Dreaming got throughout the conflict.
In the end, Morpheus appeared to die when he was sucked up into the dreamstone ruby and it was destroyed. All of it for naught as the Endless prevailed and the disgraced scientist defeated.
Who would've known to win in that scenario was to lose.
When eating some of his food, John asked something which now is on his mind. "What'll happen now? I get Morpheus' realm is getting rebuilt, but what of you?"
Swallowing some food, Roxas gave a response. "I'm gonna live at his palace."
"You mean-"
"Yeah."
The Englishman cocked an eyebrow. "I get him repaying the favor for all you did for him, but I doubt you can live there beyond just sleeping."
"Yeah, I was told living there as an Awakened would be tricky. But there's a work around." Roxas took a sip of water before continuing. "I signed a letter of commission."
"...You mean you're working for the Endless now."
"With, John." Roxas corrected him. "And yes, as one of his Agents in the Waking World."
"That's quite the role."
"It will be on top of my normal tasks."
"Normal tasks?"
"I hunt off against… a peculiar set of entities of the darkness."
An eyebrow was cocked upwards once more from the older blonde on the ominous response. He's rather curious on what Roxas meant, but he's bound to find out later at some point.
Seeing as their meals were practically done, John excused himself so he may pay the bill at the front register and use the lou.
Roxas didn't know what to do now with the meal done and over with. The dishes piled and placed on the neighboring table, which was also dirty and used by some customers who left not so long ago.
He could wait here until John comes back so they may leave together and part ways from there. Or he could leave now but he didn't want to be rude as a result.
"Hello, young man."
"May we sit here?"
"Keep you company and all that?"
Roxas looked up from a place from the table and to the side and saw a particular set of women. An old woman, a motherly individual and some young woman some years older than his physical age.
He knew them.
"By all means." He said to them. "Make yourselves comfortable."
The trio of ladies smiled as they soon sat down in the booth. The Crone and the Mother sat in front of him while the Maiden sat beside him once he scooted over.
For now he'll be entertaining the Hecateae.
He had been forewarned by Lucien that if he ever encountered the Three Witches of the Crossroads, he'd have to be careful with what he says around them. Not just out of courtesy, but any questions he may say on accident would be used up and wasted.
"Your guidance has been helpful to Morpheus; Cynthia, Mildred, Mordred."
"As it should, young bearer of the Keyblade."
Roxas shifted in his seat a little. "If I knew you'd be coming, I would've ordered some food and drink for you, Three-who-are-One."
"Mighty kind of you, deary."
"Our time won't be long, we assure you."
"At least you're polite unlike some people we've met in the past."
The young Nobody nodded in understanding. "Hopefully things have been well for you since I've seen you last back in the Dreaming."
"They have… to some capacity."
"Many changes occurring in the vast, expansive reality we all reside in and many more."
"They may've been worse without your assistance to the Prince of Stories."
"I had to do what was needed, ladies. I couldn't just let him do it all on his own." He soon gave them a look. "I bet you three knew what occurred to him when he went to fetch his ruby all by himself."
The varying smiles were telling.
"I have questions, which you may have clear answers for… to some capacity, Witch Queen. I just never expected I could get them already with this kind of opportunity."
"Clearly."
"Depends on the questions."
"And the answers may be hard to comprehend."
"Though I don't know if they'll be actually limited as I never summoned you with you three coming to me directly on your own free will." He pointed out to them.
"Depends on our mood."
"Depends on the topics in question."
"Overall, we have things to tell of you."
"For a quest, I take it. Your original purpose of seeing me." Was his statement.
"In a manner."
"Then why not let me ask my questions first and then you send me on my way to… wherever you need me at? Sound fair?"
The Three-who-are-One were silent for a moment, silently communicating with each other before they finally spoke.
"Reasonable enough."
"And those questions you just asked, consider them freebies."
"You clearly want to state things, among other factors."
"Then you may begin your inquiries, child of Nothingness."
He was quiet for a moment or two. Him having to formulate how to properly ask his questions as best as possible to receive the best answers from them.
"You have an issue with Morpheus, given he didn't help you out with something pertaining to Circe." He said remembering that particular detail when he first saw them days ago. "Mind telling me what all of that was about?"
The Hecateae glanced at each other before focusing on the Keybearer.
"You wish to resolve this, I take it?"
"If I could, I would do the best I can. And I apologize in advance if it may not meet your expectations."
The three ladies nodded before they gave Roxas the answer to his first question.
"Our issue with Circe goes back several thousand years ago when she was once the follower of our truest aspect."
"A pact was made between her and us as she fled her birthplace out of survival. Receiving the keepsake of ours resulted in us splitting from the one entity to the three you seat with now."
"It wouldn't be until our separation and adopting our various aspects did we foresee and realize Circe would never intend to fully honor our pact when the time came. Of returning the keepsake we gave her all that time ago."
"Thus we sought Morpheus to resolve the issue before things got worse."
"And from what I recall, he never bothered to do so all those years ago." Said the Nobody.
"Indeed. Him stating the laws forbade him to interfere in such problems."
"Load of rubbish that was."
"So when Morpheus couldn't resolve our problem, we had to improvise."
"Working with present events -at the time- to have her taken care of. Yet it didn't go as planned."
"We recommend you read the Odyssey for more information with what we mean."
"I will." Roxas said simply before ushering the One-who-are-Three to continue.
"Of course what occurred in the written works of Homer does not contain the full tale of Circe."
"For she still lives on the mortal plane, courtesy of the pact which still stands to this day."
"Being an enemy, eternal, to Princess Diana of Themyscira and her fellow Amazons for various reasons that'll be too long to explain."
"Then perhaps me retrieving this keepsake of yours at some point in the future will mend your issue with Morpheus." Stated the Keybearer.
"It may or may not."
"Right, understandable. Now, next question." He breathed out, not looking at either of them in the eye. "When I met Sora when he was undergoing his Mark of Mastery Exam, we shared memories, knowledge and experiences… I think. There's just some number of them during the exam in the Sleeping Worlds that are foggy for me to know right now. And from those memories rose something which is now starting to bug me. Worrying me, even." His eyes soon met one of them as he finally voiced his inquiry. "Did… Are those of Organization XIII -like Xigbar, Xemnas and Xehanort's young incarnation- merely hallucinations, figmentations placed into the exam to test Sora along the way?"
"They aren't."
"For they weren't dreams at all."
"They were legitimately as real as you and us."
This was worrisome for the Keybearer. If what the Hecatae said was true, the Organization was somehow back.
Another question popped in his mind, one which he wished to voice but withheld speaking it. For he wished to know if Axel and maybe even Xion were back or not. This was due to him seeing that unknown individual claiming to be Xehanort's younger self, which made Roxas believe he may have filled one of the positions of the group.
It was so damn confusing and frustrating at the same time.
"Then should I go back and help Sora and the others?"
"Not at this time, child."
"You are not yet strong enough to face them as you are now."
"But worry not, you'll get an invitation to assist at one point."
Roxas opened his mouth to speak a responding question but soon shut himself up when coming to a realization.
'I just wasted one, my last question.' He thought. 'I was just so surprised that I…'
He already used up his three questions. He can't exactly ask more of those he sought personal answers for.
Shaking his head a bit from the brief flash of frustration, he soon looked towards each woman he was seated with.
"I see. I've asked my questions. Well… Not really. But one question from each of you as per your rules. Now, what is it you wish for me to do with your intended purpose of being here?"
The Maiden pulled out a folded piece of paper and placed it in front of the young man beside her.
"Go here and look."
"There is where you must go this night."
"We recommend going immediately."
Roxas took the piece of paper and placed it in his pocket. "Thank you, ladies, for your time. And I'll do this request of yours as payment for your answers."
"Take care, child."
In a blink of an eye, they were gone.
A moment later, Roxas slumped in his seat; seemingly exhausted from the ordeal.
He didn't know how and why he felt this way but speaking with the Hecateae made him feel utterly drained.
It honestly felt like hours with him talking to them.
Before he knew it, someone came to the booth.
"Alright, we're ready to… you alright, kid?"
Blinking, Roxas looked over and saw John Constantine standing over him.
He didn't know what to exactly say to the Englishman, at first. Spouting that he just spoke with the Hecateae while he was gone. But he didn't know if that may raise some complications.
All the Nobody could do was say the truth, partially that is.
"Just a lot on my mind, is all." Said the teen Nobody.
"You sure about that?"
"I'm sure." Roxas got out of the booth as both he and the older man walked out of the establishment. "It was good seeing you John."
"You too, Roxas. Don't exhaust yourself too much with the new job."
"I won't."
The two parted ways, going to opposite sides of the street.
John looked back and saw Roxas whip out his Organization coat, quickly wearing it before entering a conjured Corridor of Darkness.
He thought back on the bit of state the teen was in when he came back from the lou. A look of disturbance and uneasiness on his features. Like him hearing or getting some really bad news which suddenly weighs greatly on one's shoulders.
As much as he'd like to question the kid, he chose not to pry. He may learn of what occurred later on when they meet up next sometime in the future. He couldn't exactly do so now.
For now, all he could do was go back home and-
*BRRRMMM*
Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, he pulled it out and saw a notification from the bank. Reading the contents, he released a chuckle from his smiling lips.
"They're mighty fast on that one." Muttered Constantine before sending a quick text to "Ric the Vic", notifying her he had just got his payment.
Seems he'll celebrate a little more by going to a good pub and get some nice, cold ale.
-Mayfair, London-
Walking down the street, Roxas had his phone out. Briefly glancing about, he followed the directions of the one address he typed into his device. A location the Hecateae provided for him.
"Now why did they ask me to come here?" He said to no one but himself, arriving at his destination. Putting his phone away, he looked at the residencies, all lined up next to each other and appearing quite similar in practically every way.
To his knowledge, these were townhouse residences with ornate brick dressings with several floors to them. There were street-side railings as well for some bit of divide between each of the homes and leading up to the front doors. And when looking towards the top of the townhouses, they had chimneys.
Walking across the street, he soon stood at the front of the home with a quizzical look. He was told to come here and look for some apparent reason, but he didn't know why.
He would've lingered more at his spot if he didn't catch something with his eye.
On the second floor window, he saw someone peeking through it. He almost missed it, due to how dark it was starting to become. Some of the veiled curtains also contributed to obscuring the view.
At that moment, their eyes briefly locked and Roxas could tell something was wrong. Him seeing the pain, the suffering, and several other emotions within those eyes.
Next thing he knew, he broke into the townhouse.
It wasn't hard, given his Keyblade letting him bypass the simple locks.
Getting inside of the home, he looked around and spotted several things upon first glance. A living room towards his right which had a number of framed images, both of enlarged book covers to a movie poster. They had a similar trait to them, given they had some name Ric or Richard Madoc printed on them. When peering a bit better through the living room, he saw an office near the back on the floor he stood on. Asides from this quick bit of curious glances, he saw the place was well furnished.
Roxas shook his head, no longer wanting to be distracted. He came in here to see who was here.
Taking the stairs, he went to the second floor and found a locked door. What was curious about it were the pair of locks, which could only be done from the outside, not the inside.
Soon enough, he knocked.
"Hello… Is someone in here?"
He could hear someone on the other side, startled.
Whipping out Oathkeeper, he tapped it along the door's surface. A second later, he saw the two locks magically undo themselves. Upon dismissing his weapon, he slowly opened it and stepped inside.
He saw the room was furbished, to a decent degree. There was a long vanity mirror off to the side next to the closet, which didn't seem to bear any clothes if he saw it right. He may have gotten a better view if the lights were on, either the one on the ceiling or the lamp beside the bed. And on the other side of the room was another doorway, leading to a connecting bathroom.
But that wasn't the real focus here.
It was here he came face to face with someone.
She was a beautiful woman with olive skin and richly dark brown hair that matched her eyes. Her face was angular and nicely shaped. Her physical appearance made it seem she was in her late twenties or perhaps her early thirties. The only thing she wore was a creamy white nightgown held up by straps and went all the way near the bottom half of her calves.
When looking past her beauty, he could see some discoloration on what bits of flesh he could see. They looked like-
"Who are you?" He heard her say, snapping him out of his thoughts. His eyes saw her curious, yet cautious look on her face.
"Oh, I'm Roxas." Was his response. "And you?"
"Calliope." She said in an accent, rich and old. "How'd you get in here?"
"Walked through the front door." He saw her give him a bland look. "It's the truth… well… After I broke in when seeing you from outside." He took a cautious step towards her with a concerned look. "Are you okay?"
"...I'm not okay." She said, eyeing him.
He could feel something was off, more so when he glanced back at the door he opened. "Were you kept here against your will?"
"I have."
"Then, I can get you outta here and somewhere safe."
"You can't."
"Why not?"
"I'm bound by ancient laws." She said, "I am forbidden to leave this room."
"...I don't understand."
"I doubt you would. Only my captor can free me."
Blue eyes narrowed. "That's not right." He muttered aloud, all the while confused by all of this. "Look, do you need to call someone, I can help."
"I don't know if you could. Reaching him would be difficult."
"It wouldn't hurt to try." Roxas pulled out his phone and unlocked it with his passcode. "Tell me his name and I can hopefully reach him."
Calliope let out a small snort and shook her head. She decided to humor him a little. "His name is Oneiros."
Roxas blinked in confusion. "Oneiros?"
"One of his names. He went by many. Though he preferred Morpheus the most."
"...You know Morpheus?"
It was this time did Calliope blink in confusion upon hearing a sense of familiarity in the young teen's voice.
Before she could ask him what was going on, she saw him call someone on his cell phone.
And it wasn't long before he spoke to someone on the other end.
"Hey, Morpheus, I got a question for you."
…..
"Do you know someone by the name of Calliope?"
…..
"I came here by chance and found her locked up in this one room and-"
…..
"I'm with her right now." He said, glancing over and eyed her once more. "And she looks rather hurt and wants your help."
…..
Roxas pried the phone away from his ear before glancing at it to see the call came to an abrupt end.
"He's coming over, apparently."
Calliope looked at the hooded Nobody with confusion before she felt something in the air. Roxas noticed it too as he felt the air warp within the room.
A moment later, Morpheus appeared.
He wore different garments than the time when he was first freed from his imprisonment, along with ones he bore when on his quest with Roxas by his side. This time he wore a black peacoat on top of a black button up shirt with tailored pants and boots.
Eyes widened upon seeing him, tears slowly forming and welling. "Oneiros… You came."
"You sought my help."
Before the Endless was a woman who he hasn't seen in a very long time.
In truth for anyone not in the know, the woman known as Calliope is one of the nymphs of legend; the youngest of nine sisters and a child of Zeus. And for a unique trait about this goddess, she was Homer's muse.
The muse took a tentative step or two closer to him. Hesitant in wanting to be in his presence after all these years.
"They… They told me that you have been imprisoned. Just like me."
Morpheus could tell who she was referring to, knowing she had spoken to the Hecateae at some point in her imprisonment.
Star-like eyes soon gazed upon her form, making him frown. "Not like you. My suffering was nothing compared to yours."
"Don't say that." She said, stepping closer to the Dream King. "Comparing our suffering only compounds it. It pained me to hear of your misfortune." A small smile graced her features, making her a bit more beautiful. "I'm glad that you are free."
The Endless glanced over to Roxas, who stood there quietly as he didn't want to disturb them. Calliope took notice as well, more so with what he spoke next. "And I had help afterwards."
Seeing the attention placed on him, even if briefly, the Nobody spoke. "It was the right thing to do, Morpheus. Doesn't hurt to have extra hands in your time of need."
The Shaper focused back at Calliope, stepping closer to her tentatively as they were now a foot apart from each other. "You were bound here by the laws."
"I know that you cannot free me. Only my captor can do that." Said the nymph, drawing a frown from the Nobody in the room. The expression soon changed for a deeper curiosity with what she spoke next. "But perhaps, you might… inspire him? To let me go?"
"I will do all that… and more." Morpheus said without hesitation.
"Dream-"
"He must be punished."
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but what kind of punishment would be enough for her captor? All that time taken from her, all that was robbed from who knows how long. I doubt that'll be enough, I think."
Calliope nodded in agreement to Roxas' words as she continued from there. "If you have him killed, it wouldn't be fulfilling and justified. He's nothing. He's just a man."
"I cannot allow him to go free."
"Why? Because I was once yours?"
"...I'm sorry, but you two were together? Like… together, together?"
Roxas thought they were merely old friends, acquaintances. He could tell with their interaction. Yet the looks they were sharing, the flickering feelings of an old connection. But if it was much more than that-
"We were, a long time ago."
He heard the tone she said with. From what he could tell, things didn't end well. And seeing it now, there were senses of regret in varying manner shown on each person before the Nobody.
"...To answer your question, Calliope, it's because he hurt you." Morpheus resumed, various emotions shifting in his star-like eyes. "The last time I saw you, you said you would never speak to me again, let alone see me."
"I'm… I'm sorry, I…" She stammered. "I did not know where else to turn…"
"You misunderstand me." The Endless stepped closer to his old love, gently taking her hands with his. She didn't react when this happened. "When Roxas told me you needed my help, even after all this time…" He tried to say something else, but couldn't form the words with these feelings welling inside. Instead, he spoke something else. "Let me help you… please. I owe you that much."
A sense of relief swelled within her, having the flicking dying flames of hope within her grow. Her hands shook a little whilst still holding onto her old love, her former flame.
"What will you do to him?" Was all she asked of him.
It wasn't until late in the afternoon the next day when Richard Madoc returned to his townhouse. He had spent a lovely night with a lovely reporter in more ways than one. A good interview on top of a good shag.
Unfortunately, some of his mood was soured last night when hearing someone he once knew died last summer. Someone who gave him the greatest means to his success.
Walking through his front door, he locked it before depositing his keys onto the hall table. He went into his living room to place down his messenger back when he saw he wasn't alone in his home.
"What the f… Who the fuck are you?"
From the living room, Richard could see a stranger sitting in his office chair rather patiently. With the curtains drawn and the light seeping from the windows behind him, the unexpected visitor appeared far darker than normal. Under the mop of black hair, the novelist could see the grim features the man bore, especially with the pair of star-like eyes boring into him from those dark sockets.
"Get out of my house."
"Be quiet." The stranger said softly, yet sternly. "You're keeping a woman here against her will. I've come to request that you set her free."
Richard scoffs. "Are you out of your mind?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "There's no women here. I'm calling the police. You know who I am? There are laws that-"
"I know precisely who and what you are, Richard Madoc."
At that moment, the novelist began to realize the stranger had indeed spoken to his possession upstairs. The man knew and… he was angry.
"Are you going to call the police?"
"No, I will not call any human agency." Said the dark clothed man, causing confusion to form on Richard's frightened face. "Just let her go."
"Y-You don't understand, I need her. If I didn't have her, I wouldn't be able to write. I wouldn't have ideas." Stammered out Richard. "I can't free her yet. Not now. Maybe in a year or so. L-Look, I-I have money-"
"Hold your tongue."
A compulsion weight suddenly fell upon the writer, making him silent.
The stranger rose from the chair, eyes boring ever further into the novelist. "She has been held captive for more than sixty years, by both you and Erasmus Fry. Demeaned, abused, defiled. And you will not set her free… because you need the ideas?" He then saw Richard squirm in his placement as he continued speaking. "Well… if it's ideas you want, then you shall have them… in abundance."
In a blink of an eye, the stranger was gone.
Not just that, but Richard found himself lying on the floor.
Getting up, he saw the light outside was getting dark. Checking the phone lying on the ground, he saw most of the day had gone by, that it was much closer to an appointment he had scheduled very soon.
At that moment, the novelist bolted and ran up the stairs right to the locked room. Undoing the locks, he glared at Calliope who laid on the bed. She seemed pleased.
"What did you do to me?" She looked at him, silently asking for clarification. "Are you giving me nightmares now?" She smiled slightly, which caused him to roar. "TELL ME!"
"I have done nothing to you, Richard Madoc." The muse rose from the bed, shifting her smile to a frown. "You have met Morpheus, whom the Romans called The Shaper of Form. He was once my lover and the father of my son."
Richard stepped back, startled with what was revealed. "I didn't know you had a son."
"You know nothing about me. I am indeed real. I am more than a receptacle for your seed, or any inspiration for your tales. But it's too late to let any of that concern you now."
Richard closed and locked the door before hearing anything else.
It had to be a dream, a lie concocted by Calliope.
He wouldn't let that get to him now.
Richard left his home and got into his car. He had a book reading to get to.
If he was more attentive, he would've seen a hooded boy looking at him. As the car took off, so did he but not in a conventional manner.
At the local university, Richard Madoc was doing a public reading of his latest book Eagle Stones. It was a best seller and a beloved favorite by all of his fans. Best one he ever wrote.
Situated at a classroom, Richard was reading aloud his novel to his assembled audience.
He could've done this at any other public setting for a good book reading, but Richard wanted this to be special. For after he wrote his first book, he was struggling for… a long time. He needed a steady job until he could get back up onto his feet with his written works. Thus he became a literary professor at the college near his home.
As for why he was here in this old classroom of his, well he thought it'll be a good send off. A means of departure from his old life before moving to the United States. It was due to him taking up a role as director of the upcoming films based off of his last couple of novels. Preproduction was finished and now initial filming was about to start very soon, hence why he needed to be there in person for the rest of the development.
With that, he'll be busy packing up all of his belongings and shipping them out to his new home. But his most precious possession will be brought with him on a private jet.
For hours, he had been reading aloud and with passion in his voice to his assembled audience. They all loved it, given the reactions he was getting from out of them.
Yet if he was more attentive, he could've seen one amongst them wasn't entirely entertained.
"-And in the darkness, he thought about the story in every star, like fireflies. Flicking… fading… in the night."
With this last sentence spoken, he closed the novel with the assembly of listeners giving him an applause. He smiled and drank it all in.
Whilst everyone else was enthusiastic on the applause, one person only did small claps. He enjoyed the open reading like everyone else, he had to admit that. It was good work, but it wasn't satisfying… given what he knows of the author.
Roxas was here for a task, to observe until the time was right to act accordingly.
But first, he had to text Morpheus the open reading was now over and await for further actions.
"Any questions?" Asked Richard.
Hands rose, many wanting to have questions answered on opinions among other topics.
"Uh, the young woman in the third row."
Being handed the microphone, the young woman spoke into it. "Your work spans so many genres, so many worlds, so many different kinds of characters. Uh, may I ask, where does all that come from?"
The novelist let out a chuckle. "For me… ideas don't come from anywhere. They're all around us, all the time." Richard pondered, briefly, to give an example. "I could write an entire novel set at… a book reading." This caused some laughter from the audience. "Where, uh, something had happened to the world outside, a holocaust of some kind, but the audience was safe… as long as the author kept reading."
More laughs went out as he finished with the young woman saying 'thank you' in order for another person to ask their question.
"Or… a story about a fraternity of critics…"
From his placement in the audience, the greater Nobody was the first to notice this bit of change before everyone else. Even if it was randomly sudden to continue on with the first question, the person knew it was time.
Soon, Roxas will need to be ready.
"-To destroy the author, they sacrifice a child and perform a critical mass." He said, finishing off the one idea before another popped up. "Or a city where the streets are paved with time. A train, full of silent women, driven by a blind man, plowing forever through the twilight."
Soon enough, Richard began to ramble. What was once calm was more problematic, in fact erratic.
This all went off like a switch when the writer looked up and saw Morpheus standing behind the assembled audience with a mild glare. And with a blink of the eye, the Lord of Dreams disappeared.
"Heads made of light… No… A small piece of blue cardboard. A plum, sweet and tart and cold. A were-goldfish who transforms into an aquatic wolf at a full moon."
Eyes began to unfocus in a horrid manner. One eye saw things normally, the other saw ideas flooding into his mind, which he began to voice.
Stumbling from the podium, Richard began to ramble more and more. Soon enough, the audience began to become worried and concerned.
"A man who inherits a library card from the Library of Alexandria." He said, quickly walking up the classroom stairs. "Two old women taking a weasel on holiday…"
Before long, the novelist left the classroom, leaving many to wonder what was going on.
If they were more attentive, they would've seen Roxas and one other leave the classroom as well.
The two soon went off around the campus, trying to find him. Yet they were having a hard time locating the man.
It wouldn't be for some unknown time later when they heard his faint voice coming from a stairwell.
"A sestina about silence, using the key words… dark, ragged, never, screaming, fire… kiss."
When finding Richard, he was hunched over at a corner, covering one hand with his arm. The woman who came with Roxas went to the novelist's side as the man continued rambling.
"An old man who owned the universe and kept it in a jam jar."
At that moment, the woman checked Richard's tucked in hand when seeing a stain on his clothes. Prying the arm, she saw the hand was bloodied, the fingertips were harshly chewed and cut through to expose the fingertip bones. And from the man's skin coloration, he was starting to pale.
Seeing this disturbed Roxas.
The woman who accompanied him spoke to the novelist out of concern. "Mr. Madoc, it's Nora. What's happened to your hands?"
"Oh, my God, I'm just having so many ideas. I-I didn't have a pen or any paper, so I just used my hands."
With this said, Roxas looked to the wall on the other side of the stairwell and saw it.
"What the…"
Nora looked over and reared her head back upon seeing what was scrawled all over the wall. Lots of words written in blood, having it drip down from the paint like from a horror flick.
"I said I needed the ideas, but they, they, they're coming too fast."
"Ma'am," Roxas said to the woman, Nora. "He needs to get to the hospital."
Nora agreed and was about to get him up when Richard bit out a growl. "No. Please, go to my house." While this confused Nora, Roxas knew what was going to happen based on the explanation. "There is a woman in a room upstairs. She's locked up in there. Tell her that she can go, that I free her."
"I don't understand." Muttered Nora.
With his good hand, Richard pried out his keys from his pocket and handed them out. "Take my keys. Let her out. Make her leave. Make her go away." The novelist soon noticed the woman attending him. "I signed a book for you once, didn't I?" Nora nodded, seeing he remembered her four years ago with that favor. "Please."
"I'll go." Said Roxas, holding out his hand to Richard. "I'm not from around here, so I don't know where the hospital is right away."
Richard complied, dropping the keys into the young boy's hand as he began to weep. "Just make it stop. Tell her I am sorry." With Nora hoisting Richard away, he kept on with his rambles. "Magical and alchemical relations seen as a cargo cult."
As Roxas began to leave, Nora told him where the closest one was as that'll be where Richard will be admitted to.
When he was out of sight, he quickly brought up his Organization coat and summoned a Corridor. Stepping through, he soon found himself back at Richard Madoc's place.
"It's done. You're free now, Calliope."
After this was said, Roxas felt a pair of arms embracing him from behind.
The action surprised him before hearing the nymph speak softly.
"Thank you."
The blonde Nobody smiled slightly, prying himself away from the ancient muse.
Instead of being in a nightgown, Calliope was now in ancient yet beautiful robes. Her hair was braided nicely. There were some ornaments on her wrists and ankles along with around her waist and hair. And she also wore a soft, yet beautiful smile which brightened a bit more in the darkened home.
"No problem." He said, finally. He then focused his attention to Morpheus who stood beside the nymph of legends. "Did you really have to go that far on Madoc?"
"I had to make a point to him."
"Yeah… in a really disturbed manner."
"It could've been worse." Calliope brought up.
"...I really don't wanna know."
Once Roxas and Calliope finished speaking, Morpheus asked his old love a question. "What will you do now?"
Calliope pondered for some moments. "I don't know. Return to the minds of humanity, perhaps. My time is over, and this age of the world is not my age."
"Yet it's similar in many aspects."
"Even so, there is one other thing that I feel I must do."
"And what's that?" Roxas couldn't help but ask.
"Try and make sure that this never happens to anyone else ever again."
This peaked the interest curiosity from both Nobody and Endless, with the more powerful one voicing the question.
"How?"
"I do not know. Inspiring humanity to want better for themselves and each other. By rewriting the laws by which I was held. Laws that were written long ago, in which my sisters and I had no say."
"Admirable goals." Roxas state with a nod. "I wish you luck on that, Calliope."
The Dream King soon mirrored the action. "I shall do the same in my realm."
The nymph smiled at the hooded boy before looking upon her former lover with bits of wonder and bewilderment in her eyes. "You have changed, Oneiros. In the old days, you would've left me here to rot without turning a hair." She looked away, pain soon washing over her. "Do you still hate me… for leaving you? For blaming you for-?"
"No."
The others in the townhouse looked at Morpheus.
"I've learned much in recent times, and… No matter." Once more, he was having a hard time saying the words. "I do not hate you."
There was a lot of weight in those words, with much said in between the lines. Ones which moved Calliope to bear a shaky smile. The action was mirrored by Roxas, who was happy things were turning out better for the nymph after all these years.
"I think you should release the mortal now. He has set me free." The ancient muse soon voiced her reason. "If he doesn't get better, without forgiveness, his wounds won't heal."
Roxas nodded in agreement, to some capacity.
After all, with those hand wounds he saw and the trauma he was going through, he doubted those would return the way they were. Richard Madoc may not have suffered enough and paid for his crime, but it may be a beginning.
Both Calliope and Roxas awaited Morpheus' decision with silence.
"You would forgive him for what he's done?"
"I most certainly will not forgive what he has done," the nymph said softly, yet harshly before calming slightly. "But I must forgive the man."
The Nobody soon drove it home, in a manner, with what he spoke next. "Don't do it for him. Do it for her. Please?"
There was quite the contrast between the two with how they wanted their former, respective captors to be dealt with. Whilst the ancient nymph wanted to somewhat forgive, the Endless wouldn't.
"...If that is what you wish," Morpheus flicked his wrist and waved his hand, "it is done."
Roxas nodded and made the attempt to head out to check up on Richard Madoc when he felt something placed into his hand.
"What's this?"
In his grasp was a copy of "Here Comes a Candle" by Erasmus Fry. There was a subheading next to the image of a woman holding a candle which read "She was his muse- and the slave of his lust!"
"For his troubles."
Roxas cocked an eyebrow before shaking his head a little. Summoning a Dark Corridor, he stepped through it and went to the hospital where the novelist was located.
At the hospital, Roxas went through the hallways, searching for Richard in order to give back his keys and the book. Once guided, he came across the assigned room of the novelist.
The man presently laid on a medical bed. His hand was bandaged up and he was administered a cocktail of drugs to help with the pain and blood loss. Eventually he'll be undergoing surgery with what happened to hopefully mend his fingers.
"Mr. Madoc," Roxas said evenly, "We met at the book reading after your… episode." Coming closer, he dropped the book and keys on the table nearby. "How're you feeling?"
"I… I don't know anymore." Madoc struggled out. "I… keep trying to think."
"I did what you asked and saw no one." Lied the blonde Nobody. "Only found this book by Erasmus Fry."
"She said something. The… Shaper of Forms." Richard said deliriously. "There was a name connected to it. I…"
In his mind's eye, Richard could see Morpheus' face, sternly glaring at him.
"Oh, I wish I could remember!"
The face in his head was starting to fade away into nothing.
"It's so hard to… think all of a sudden."
"You should rest now. It's over."
"She's gone." Richard said suddenly, tears now flowing down his face. "And it's all gone with her. The ideas, the stories." He whipped his head towards the Nobody. "They were all hers. And… I can't…"
A frown marred Roxas' face as he left Richard all alone in his hospital room. He exhaled a sigh, worried with what befell the mortal who sought his own fortunes by a muses' enslavement.
It wouldn't be until later will the Nobody learn the final extent of Richard's punishment. For all those ideas forcibly taken, so too would the same happen in turn. For the novelist would never think of a good idea ever again. For his career was over.
Meanwhile, at the townhouse…
"That boy -Roxas- is quite the interesting child."
"He most certainly is."
"Reminds me of our son."
"In a fashion, he does."
Making their way to the front door, Calliope brought up something that crossed her mind.
"May I visit you in the Dream Realm sometime, so that we may finally talk about him… and… grieve him properly?
Morpheus had trouble speaking, hesitant to say the right things after opening the doorway.
"One day, perhaps, but…"
"...I understand."
"But you are free to visit before… we can do it properly."
The small frown she wore shifted to a brief smile. "I'd like that."
The pair stepped outside of the townhouse, letting the cool air wash over them. The nymph looked around with a growing smile before focusing back at him.
"Thank you, Oneiros. I will not forget this. Fare you well." She embraced him slightly, having her feel him stiffen on the contact. "Fortune be with you."
Breaking the hold, her eyes bore into his. The contact was as long as they read each other.
"Goodbye, Calliope. And good fortunes for you as well."
The former lovers thus went their separate ways. Whilst Morpheus went back to his own realm, continuing the rebuilding process, Calliope decided to go somewhere she knew she'll recuperate from her recent reprisal.
A kingdom of people she favored long ago. A people who she hasn't made contact with since prior to her enslavement. Most certainly those of the island cluster of Themyscira will accept her warmly and with open arms before undergoing her personal quest.
-End Chapter-
AN:
Hopefully this chapter turned out good for you all.
Recently the latest audiobook volume of Sandman came out and it got me motivated to plug in more entries for this story. Obviously some stuff had to be changed around for story purposes as the events of Calliope happened after Doll's House and Collectors in the comics. But when focusing back on the Netflix show entry of Calliope, there was a newspaper headline of the Sleeping Sickness coming to an end with everyone waking up from it so I decided to use that as an excuse to move things around.
Now there's something some people were a bit confused about from the last chapter, a number of you believing Roxas will become the next Dream King or something given his one Keyblade, Endless Dreams. To clarify, that's not gonna happen at all as there's other requirements that will involve someone else to become Morpheus' replacement. All Roxas will be is an Agent of the Dreaming.
Anyways, be sure to review this story guys! Would like the criticisms. Please and thank you!
R&R