Chapter Text
Fawcett City has always been one, if not the strangest city the League's ever come across, for starters, the city existed at random intervals, sometimes it was there, sometimes it wasn't. As in not even satellites could pick it up.
There was also how its time seemed to switch between the 80's and modern time. Or how its currency seemed to vary between money, gold, minerals and strange coins, drachmas . And there were several different types of drachmas too.
There were its people too, not all were humans. Nothing about the city was normal, but the people… its residents in general took the cherry on top.
Unicorns could be found grassing at the park, huge and much more terrifying than their movie counterparts. Centaurs, elves, fae, gargoyles, mermaids, kelpies, pegasus, dwarves, it was like some sort of fairy tale book had exploded in the city. And the humans coexisted just fine with the mystical, didn't bat a single eye at it.
Outsiders were regarded with disdain, for most outsiders came to bother those who weren't human. Many pamphlets were given to tourists, how currency worked, what creatures to not approach, how to not get tricked by faes or into deals by other creatures.
Magic users did seem to avoid the place like the plague though. Zatanna had once said that that place was like a bottomless well of magic, where all leylines connected, by extension the very highly likely place of connection to the Rock Of Eternity . Source of all magic , prison to horrors beyond comprehension…
It was what made the place so active with all kinds of magical things.
A place that had a hero who didn't even do magic. And still, somehow, Captain Marvel seemed to do an amazing job at keeping all that mess in check, be it magic related or not. The League had seen a dragon who had been destroying everything in Metropolis become just one big puppy the second Marvel came into the picture.
Point was, he might not be magic, but he did amazing if not better than most magic users when dealing with magic creatures. All he had to do was show up and the creatures would just stop. At least 90% of them did.
So when a bunch of these creatures appeared out of nowhere and became downright violent, even those who were meant to be docile, the League had tried calling for Marvel.
Just that he never answered.
Leading to the League having to deal with the creatures themselves, which was a bit hard when many of said creatures glitched, appearing and disappearing.
But rather than senseless violence, it seemed more like how animals reacted when danger was in the air. Spooked, acting out of instinctual fear, not knowing what was wrong, just that something was wrong.
That wasn't all that was just acting up, magic was also acting up, reason the creatures were all over the place, veils had become unstable, magic itself had become unstable, Fawcett City seemed to be the most affected by it all, its time had blended together, between the 80's and the modern time, anything that stepped into the city was also affected by it, electronic devices exploding into flames, clothes morphing into an explosion of a bad mix between modern clothes and the 80's fashion.
And because modern time and the 80's had blended, lots of things had stopped working too, like cars and electronic devices, making the entire place succumb to chaos, hospitals weren't working, computers, it was all back to basics.
The worst was that Captain Marvel was nowhere to be found. It was as if the man had completely disappeared. Granted, he did have the habit to disappear at random intervals for equally random amount of times, but he would never do so without informing the League beforehand.
So all the League could do was attempt and fail at keeping things calm, but it wasn't just Fawcett City, the entire world seemed to have gone mad, and to make matters even worse, several doors to hell had opened in different countries, flooding the streets with all kinds of demons. More chaos than anyone could deal with. Especially because only magic users could deal with demons.
But magic users weren't having the greatest of times with their magic.
To that add the thunderstorms, random earthquakes and how feral the ocean was, to a point where not even Aquaman or Mera could keep it under control.
That is, until a wild epiphany hit Constantine.
The Champion Of Magic.
~
Thavma's been alive for far longer than half of the multiverse, he's seen entire worlds be created, collapse, change, evolve…
But being the Champion Of Magic came with more responsibilities and struggles than people might ever imagine, while he spent most of his time fulfilling his function, as a protector and guardian of all that was magical, he also had his job as Captain Marvel.
A choice he made over fifty years ago in order to explore how it felt like to be human, to have friends, to interact much more closely with the worlds he protected.
But it was that job as Captain Marvel what had made him grow naive, forget that not all in the world was about being a hero, that being willing to help all of those who needed him wasn't something someone like him should take without hesitation. That as the Champion he should always be careful. That to trust someone blindly, could mean his end.
Lex Luthor had taught him that. And so had Teth Adam, Kodak and Liserole. Each one of them from different worlds, but very much alike on having the desire of exploiting his power.
But he was stupid. He forgot. He became too soft.
And once again, he paid the price.
Hiding his magic this time around hadn't been enough to keep away those who aimed to hunt him, he had still been found. All because he was an idiot.
He might possess and unfathomable and vast amount of magic, he might be able to bend the laws of magic and all that shit altogether, but that's never meant he is exempt from the rules of the universe, to keep balance, some rules must be made, rules he cannot ignore or change, even Gods followed rules.
He had once been told it was to keep balance, to prevent chaos.
Meant he was bound to these rules. In order to keep balance, he was, much like all magic creatures, able to be summoned and bound. The ritual was near impossible to complete, it required blood from a god, a feather from an angel and the heart of a magic user.
Those first two were near impossible to come across, gods were sneakier than people gave them credit for and extremely hard to injure let alone kill.
And angels rarely left Heaven, and if they did, they hid among humans or in the ethereal plane, they could never be found if they didn't want to be found, for they lived in a whole different plane than everyone else , a whole different veil from the one he created to hide the mystical. A plane even he had trouble locating.
Point was, it should be impossible to summon him, that also adding the fact that he's never been a fan of letting the books that withheld his summoning ritual just be found so easily, the summoning ritual was even written in a long lost language.
And it also needed his name.
He's done the impossible to hide from people the means to summon him and bind him. He's hidden his magic, his name, the grimoires with his summoning ritual, everything.
But none of it worked.
In all his life, he's been summoned three times, and those three times had led to things he would rather forget, Black Adam, the Grand Canyon, and the Bermuda Triangle. When people summoned him, it was to either attempt to steal his powers, demand things he could not give, or command him to do unforgiving acts.
Humans could be vile, letting their thirst for revenge control them, their desire to win over others, greed, envy, pride, the sins of mankind could make it all truly grotesque.
But all those things had happened because he had trusted the wrong people, Black Adam happened because he trusted the wrong person at the wrong time, the man had been filled with far too much grief to care for what Thavma said. He lost a friend that day, but he also lost the first thing to a family he ever had.
The Grand Canyon happened because he gave his loyalty to the wrong person, a man who only cared for himself and wouldn't care sacrificing his own people to win a war where everyone ended up dead anyways.
And the Bermuda Triangle happened also because he trusted the wrong person with things they shouldn't have known, and that brought him a woman blinded by jealousy and fury, forcing him to end an entire civilization.
This time around, he had kept people at arm-lengths, hadn't given his name, hadn't given anything about himself to them, nothing at all. Had even plastered on a human name he hasn't used in ages to avoid people knowing his name at all. His name was nowhere to be found.
So how was he summoned?
He had been in another world, just watching the thunderstorm as the accelerator of particles exploded, he might not be a fan of speedsters, but it's never made it any less fascinating to watch them be born. See as the speed force was lit ablaze as its true anchor was finally born. Watch the world become slow mo for a fleeting second as the lightning hits its target… it was amazing.
Even more so because the birth of a speedster meant thousands of possibilities, thousands of new universes as they began traveling through the multiverse. Thousands of new lives, new heroes, new events. It was a stunning view.
He had been so focused on that that he hadn't noticed someone had been trying to summon him until it was too late, he had no chances to fight, to even prepare. All he had felt had been the brutal tug on his magic, all as his body was yanked through the multiverse. Unforgivable and uncaring.
Then he had slammed into the ground, and that had been quite a while ago. And so far? He's been unable to so much as sit up, his body felt incredibly heavy, weak, making it near impossible to even move. His magic was nowhere to be felt, he felt sick, vision blurred, and the place was dark.
All he could see was a wall, and if his terrible vision didn't fail him, candles were all the source of light this… room had. He wasn't sure what had happened, if someone had been here at all. He had passed out for God knows how long once he had landed here.
But he did know something, whoever had summoned him had done something to the spell. None of his previous summonings had ever left him feeling this drained, this… weak. Also, he wasn't on the ground, he laid on some sort of platform that reminded him of the floor in bird cages.
His wrists and ankles were tied, shackled? He didn't know, but the pressure was familiar to being handcuffed, he would know, many cops, guards and soldiers have arrested him throughout his life.
The sudden sound of a door opening somewhere caught his attention, metal groaning as a door opened and closed. Footsteps climbing down the stairs, echoing across the room. He tried and failed to lift his head, turn it, anything.
But he couldn't move. He didn't have to though, a man he didn't recognize came to stand before him, at a safe distance that was, and thanks to the platform he laid at, he was able to see that the man stood outside the summoning circle.
For a moment, all the man did was stare at him, as if he were nothing but some zoo attraction to stare upon.
"I have to admit, that when I envisioned calling upon the Champion, I did not expect this one to be… well, you ." The man spoke, he didn't seem pleased, like, at all.
As if it was somehow his fault that the man had summoned him and he turned up.
"You know, for someone who's sole survival dictates how the world runs, it's a bit reckless to play hero. I have had you for two days now, and it's as if your absence alone is enough to drive every mystical being mad."
The man's words made Billy's blood run cold. What? Two days? He's been cut off from the world for two days? How had that happened? Why was he waking up now?
God, this was all wrong, this shouldn't be happening, all of those who have summoned him before had never cut him off from the world, this… this man had no idea the damage he was doing to this and every single world out there.
The Champion couldn't be cut off, without him to act as the connection between the Rock Of Eternity and the world's magic, all magic in the world would become unstable, veils, planes, it would all become unstable, all as leylines began drying up. And many worlds who lost their connection to magic never made it out unscathed.
It was a brutal process that changed how the fabric of reality itself worked, how many creatures, laws of the universe and gods worked.
Without magic, chaos and death came. He's seen entire worlds be consumed by wars, because people couldn't handle living in the same world as the mystical or anything that wasn't human at all. Other worlds collapsed, unable to handle the process.
And the multiverse… no… nexus events needed to be fixed, God, he just hoped the sorcerer supremes would be able to deal with those, he did create them for that exact purpose, to deal with nexus events from their own worlds when he couldn't. To deal with any interdimensional threat when he couldn't.
But not all worlds had a sorcerer supreme. And Hecate couldn't help, goddess of magic or not, he was made to deal with things Gods couldn't handle, he had evolved into something that surpassed what Gods could do, there were things only the Champion could do.
And now the Champion was absent. He just hoped no world collapsed in his absence. That the sorcerer supremes would keep it safe, if worse came to worse at least he had a sliver of hope that the Endless, the Watcher, Loki, The Presence and the others would be able to handle it.
The Endless were far more powerful than he was, The Presence was even more powerful, the Watcher always managed to find the right help and Loki was holding the multiverse, he wasn't strictly the only one watching over the multiverse nor strictly the only one who's wellbeing affected how reality worked. There were many beings whose existence was webbed so intricately with existence that if they were killed, mortally wounded or captured, the world would know.
Only that he was one of the few who actually affected not one world, but all.
Because he was meant to be one of the main anchors. And now shit was so gonna get bad for everyone, probably was already. Man, he was so not looking forward to fixing it all and having to hear everyone bitching about it.
"It's funny, how useless the Justice League truly is with you out of the picture. And the funniest part is that they don't even know it's you who they should be looking for." The man's voice catches his attention, Thavma wants to punch that stupid smile off his face.
"Fuck… off…" He manages to drag out, his voice comes out rasped, weak, pathetic. God, why is he so damn weak? And how is it that he is waking up now? And he still feels sick, so sick, all he wants is to curl into himself and just pass out if it means he doesn't have to feel this anymore.
But he won't. He won't pass out, he won't allow himself to close his eyes, this guy isn't as stupid as he seems. He is planning something, he did something.
But what? What did he even want? People summoned him for a purpose, what was this man's purpose? At least he was still in his Champion form. Good. Small mercies, the last thing he needs is some random villain knowing he is a kid. Granted, a kid older than a lot of Gods themselves.
But a kid.
That form is the only thing keeping him sane. The only time he gets to be normal and be allowed some peace.
He glowers as the man chuckles at his insult.
"I'm afraid I can't do. You see, I summoned the Champion for one purpose, and one purpose only. And since I already made sure you had no GPS on you or whatever else all you goody two shoes use to communicate with each other. You are to stay here until I say so."
The man's words were accompanied with him stepping into the circle. But Billy couldn't move no matter how hard he tried to.
"Don't bother trying to move. I'm not stupid, I prepared everything for your arrival. There's more eternium than you could ever possibly imagine behind these walls, under the floor, and the room above you. I also added an extra spell on the binding circle, you will be unable to move unless I say otherwise."
The man's voice echoed across the place, his words making Thavma's stomach twist, eternium? Well, that at least explained how come he couldn't hear the Gods. Or why he felt so incredibly drained.
His throat closed when the man came stand far too close, and he couldn't move, not even his damn fingers would twitch. And he couldn't move! His breathing quickened up against his will. Because this is the Bermuda Triangle all over again, where all he can do is be frozen like a statue unless the summoner says otherwise. Where all he can do is watch, petrified, as everything around him turns to shit.
The sudden hand on his shoulder makes fire blaze in his chest. The most all consuming urge to call on lightning almost driving him insane, even more so upon noticing the condescending and mocking look he is getting.
"There's no need to be afraid, I won't hurt you."
Much. Was a term that hung in the air like a thick blanket.
"Who's… afraid? Dickhead." He was never one to curse in his Captain Marvel form, but right now, he feels like he is entitled to do it when this asshole has him like this. He hates this. Feeling so… vulnerable. Had this been how Oneiros had felt when the humans captured him? He had to give it to him, the guy was much more stubborn and proud than Billy ever gave him credit for if he chose to stay quiet for decades.
But he also feels anger, anger at being patronized, at knowing that the League must be having a hard time dealing with the mess his absence must be causing, at having hidden from them who he was, because if this asshole's words were something to go by, they were looking for the Champion.
He should have trusted them, but trusting humans wholeheartedly has never led anywhere good. Just once.
And that was centuries ago. As in ancient greece ago.
And alright, not all in the League were humans, and he did visit Diana a few times when she was a kid in Themyschira, though she has no idea it's him since he always turned up with his Billy appearance and clothes nowhere near similar to his Captain Marvel suit. He always felt bad for letting her think he left without a goodbye when she was 15.
But it had been time for him to stop interacting with her, she needed to follow the path that would lead her to leave Themyschira. He couldn't be there for that.
Point was, trusting humans has never been a good idea, even less trusting them with who he was. Greed was an ugly sin many humans carried with them. Granted, the League has never given him reason to doubt them, but Batman has shown him that he was safer not telling them who he was. God only knows what that guy's paranoia could do if Billy fed it by letting him know he was virtually indestructible with infinite power over existence itself.
Also.
He hadn't wanted things to change between them, especially with the magic users. Look at the good that gave him. Trapped, bound and completely at the mercy of this dickhead.
And he really, really wanted to punch this guy. This guy who leaned over and grabbed something from behind him. And it was then that he noticed the soft scratch of another set of footsteps behind him. How many other people were there in the room with him? How did he not notice it before? Fuck. He hated eternium, where did this guy even find that much eternium? He was sure he had collected all the eternium in this world.
So how did he get it?
He felt confusion wash over him alongside something he refused to acknowledge as fear. As the man brought to view some sort of clear tube that reminded him a whole lot of those IV tubes people used at the hospitals , a needle attached to it.
"I heard a most interesting rumor about the Champion, it was the reason I wanted to summon him." Thavma couldn't help but scoff at that.
"A rumor? Jackass." He mocked, what kind of idiot messed with magic based off of 'rumors'? Idiots. That's who.
But the man didn't react to his jab.
"Your blood is said to be able to grow flowers with healing properties."
It was all of Thavma's amazing acting skills that kept him from reacting. Who the hell even knew that? He hasn't bled in centuries . How the hell did someone even start such a rumor? An immortal perhaps? But it didn't make any sense, he has never let anyone know or see what his blood could do.
So how?
"That's… ridiculous."
"Don't bother lying. I took the liberty of testing it out while you were unconscious, many flowers do many different things, but as far as I know, it's true."
Greed.
Ah. That's what was swimming in the man's gaze, asphyxiating and all consuming greed.
"What a hero you turned out to be. Say, how can you call yourself a hero, when it's okay with you to just let many die at the hospitals? Children? People you could easily save with just a little drop of blood. Isn't the job of a hero to save as many as they can?” He sounded disgusted and judgemental, but there was an odd raw rage beneath it all.
And still.
Billy didn't answer, anger curling around his stomach, those words no longer worked with him. As Mary had very eloquently said once, he owed nothing to no one, just because he could heal people with his blood it didn't mean he had to bleed for the world. It wasn't his obligation, nor something to feel guilty for either.
He wasn't anyone's blood bank. He wasn't put in this world to just give every piece of his away.
His blood was his. And if he chose to not give it to people, then so be it.
"I don't have… to explain myself to anyone, even less… you ." He dragged out, each word felt heavier than the last one. Even keeping his eyes open was a monumental struggle.
"Fair enough. But I could care less, as I see it. You will bring me a fortune." The man spoke, and without a single warning, he shoved the needle straight into his bicep, Billy bit back a wince, feeling the uncomfortable pressure, and he didn't need to be a genius to know his blood was being drawn.
His blood was being drawn. It made a new kind of anger set deep within. Did he expect to sell his blood for profit? That… it made him grit his teeth, how dare he? To use someone else's suffering to make money out of it… How despicable could someone be to do such a thing?
How dare he use him for something so vile? The Champion was a guardian, a protector, nothing he did was for profit. Healing for profit wasn't something he would ever do. It made him sick, the idea of this asshole taking advantage of those who suffered, using his blood to gain profit. Stealing his blood, selling it. It made fire rush through his veins. Such burning rage.
And impotence.
Because he couldn't move. And damned be the day he thought smart to not tell the League anything about him. At least this asshole didn't know the full extent of what his blood could do. Only the very harmless part. Small mercies.
He just hoped Constantine was, despite the situation, still keeping his ears open to whatever weird rumors might be running through the magic community. With a little bit of hope the man would hear about the suspicious healing blood and whatever else and chose to investigate.
How pathetic though, to have to hope to be saved. He couldn't wait to tear this bastard apart once he was out, Captain Marvel might be all forgiving and positive and all that cheerful attitude.
But the Champion Of Magic wasn't as friendly, nor forgiving. He would teach this guy what it meant to get on his bad side. He would make him scream and wish for something sweeter than death. And even if he begged for it.
He wouldn't grant it to him.
No one had a right to bind him and use him as if he were nothing but a mindless tool, a weapon, to bend to their will and take everything they desired off of him, he was no one's puppet. And most important.
No one stole from him.
~
"You said before that the Champion hasn't been seen in centuries. How come someone knows his name let alone how to bind him? Isn't it a bit dangerous for people to be able to summon and control someone with that kind of power?" Superman asked, the League sat at the meeting room, chaos was still wrecking on Earth, but at least most people had been taken to safety already.
Now all that there was to deal with were the magic beasts, demons, ghosts, and the weather which also just added itself to the shit cake.
Oh.
And Captain Marvel was still nowhere to be found.
"Finding grimoires on how to summon him is near impossible. I didn't even know they existed, he's been known to burn them and take away the magic of anyone who so much as claims to know anything about him." Constantine told as a statement of fact, leaning back against his chair.
Because it was true, the Champion might have not been seen in centuries, but there were enough rumors about people having seen him that spoke of him still being highly active, and someone to not get on the bad side of.
Because as he just stated, he was known to take the magic of those who claimed to know anything about him, magic, name, where he was, if he knew anyone.
"Have you truly never met him? Isn't he meant to be… I don't know, like a king of some sorts? Shouldn't you at the very least know what he looks like?" Aquaman questions, he finds it a bit stupid, that a man like that would have such rules, such power, and somehow, no one knew what he looked like. It didn't make any sense.
"He is no regular king. He doesn't hide as a form to maintain suspense or because of pride or arrogance. The Champion has never been one to spend time around others, he is powerful, but it's that power that makes him a target." Zatanna said, feeling like she should elaborate on something. The Champion wasn't a regular king that just about anyone got to see or interact with.
Not because he was above the rest, but because he was not safe even around those he protected. Something Zatanna's always found a bit messed up.
"Lots of people and all sorts of demons and creatures are constantly waiting for him to let his guard down, always hunting him, hoping to either devour him or steal his powers." Dr. Fate added, the Champion was a being of unfathomable power.
Yes.
But that's never stopped others from attacking him or wanting to get their hands on his power. Which stupid, only reckless and stupid people would aim to take on the Champion and steal his powers. He might be all powerful, but he was tied to responsibilities not meant to be carried out by the weak of heart. Probably things no one but the Champion himself could possibly do.
To be the Champion, it was to be responsible for endless lives and worlds. And Nabu couldn't even begin to imagine what that power would be used for if the wrong people took it.
"His powers can be stolen?" Batman asks, he did not see that coming. It was bad enough to find out about the existence of a being as old as time with a power capable of affecting how the world itself worked. Now turns out his power could be stolen?
And where the hell was Captain Marvel? Did the world around him not make him realize that he should be here? Bruce's already left him over a hundred messages.
"In a sense. He can share his powers with others if he so wishes to, but I don't think it's possible for his powers to be taken by force, the kind of magic you would need for that… it would have to be immense." Hawkwoman spoke, in Thanagar, she had heard a lot of stories about the Champion, Living Lightning.
It was said he had the power to wipe out entire universes with a single flick of the wrist, the same as he could change an entire world without people ever knowing something had changed at all. He was also the one who created the veils that exiled many interdimensional threats. Without him, the world would go out of balance, reality would crumble, as one of its main anchors was removed.
The proof of it all was on how it's been almost a week since this whole mess began, and things were already reaching a critical point, many people would struggle to get back on their feet once this was over, for the coastal homes had been completely destroyed by the sea levels having risen exponentially.
More and more mystical creatures kept popping up, many demons who did nothing but wreck havoc, and Raven's already began showing signs of struggle with Trigon. It was a matter of time before it all went to shit. If Trigon broke out… or worse.
If the monsters at the Rock broke out due lack of a guardian… Shayera didn't even want to imagine the apocalyptic explosion that would cause.
“Someone has summoned and bound him, that much is clear after our failed attempts to call him. And since we are still alive and no sightings of unusual destruction have been seen. Whoever has him has opted to keep him prisoner for some other reason.” Wonder Woman exclaimed, remembering their early failed attempts to summon the Champion.
She had gotten the spell from her father, he had given her the ingredients and everything, had looked for some weird reason extremely agitated. But she hadn't been told much. And the Champion hadn't appeared.
"Why would keeping him prisoner be any good? What could they possibly get out of that? Where has it ever been said that he gives people anything and everything? Last I heard, he is extremely stubborn and gives nothing to people no matter how much they beg. Being bound doesn't exactly make him be completely compliant to the summoner."
Constantine felt the need to say, who would even be stupid enough to keep the Champion prisoner? The world would collapse if he wasn't released, if he stayed disconnected from the Rock for too long the damage would be irreparable. Even now it was heavy in the air. How volatile and unstable magic was becoming.
“Maybe they want something from him that doesn't fit the norm? Wouldn't it be easier to find him if we were to track magic users? I mean, didn't you say before magic users can see other magic users?” Flash said, because if they could look into magic users... Maybe they would be able to find this big boss magic guy. Man, he really wished Cap was here, he was always amazing at tracking people down.
“That’s impossible. We wouldn't even know where to look, there's dozens of magic users in the world, he could be anywhere.” Zatanna interjected, because it was true, there were over a thousand magic users, spread all over the globe.
And that if one didn't add those who hid or were from completely unknown tribes, civilizations and whatnot. It would be like seeking for a needle in a haystack.
“Someone must know something. If someone was able to summon him and bind him, there's definitely people who will know it. Aren't the ingredients needed for that spell really rare and difficult to find? If we find who's come into contact with those ingredients recently, we might be able to find whoever has him.” Batman stated, he knew, that magic users had lots of contacts, shops and whatnot to get ingredients for spells, grimoires, trinkets and whatnot.
If this person summoned someone so powerful, he must have also purchased something extra, something to keep such a powerful being in the circle. Bruce has lived long enough to know not all binding circles worked, sometimes, the creatures broke out or managed to burn the spell and escape.
If this… Champion hasn't done so it means he can't do so. Bruce's seen low level demons escape binding circles with little effort, he finds it hard to believe that a low level demon would have better skills to escape a summoning circle than the very being who wielded enough magical power to put supernovas to shame.
Also meant whoever caught him was no little matter. To be able to subdue such a being…
He dragged a hand down his face, he's never wished for Captain Marvel's presence as much as he did now, with all of this being magic related it was clear Superman wouldn't be a great asset if a fight broke out. Captain Marvel was one of their heaviest hitters, and immune to magic.
But the man was yet to answer his comm, and Bruce was so gonna tear him a new one and remind him that he seriously can't just disappear whenever he pleases. He wasn't alone anymore, they were a team, they should at the very most warn each other if they were going to disappear for whatever reason. As Hal did when he had to leave for Oa, or Diana when she left to visit Themyscira, or Arthur when he needed to leave for an unknown amount of time due Atlantis' businesses.
“I might know someone who sells angel feathers.” Constantine's words were unsurprising, Batman nodded. They really needed to fix this before things got more complicated.
~
Alright.
Having blood drawn wasn't as bad as Billy first thought, even if it made him feel impossibly exhausted and half of the time far too loopy to even remember where he was, what year and world it was or who he was, but somehow, the man had brought someone else, a woman whose voice was somewhat familiar, but he couldn't be sure.
She has been coming here a few times by now, he couldn't tell how long he has been here, there were no windows, no clocks, nothing at all to tell him anything which honestly did nothing but add to the slowly driving him insane situation.
But the woman has been coming a lot. At first, all she did was check on him, her methods told him she might be some kind of doctor or something of the likes. Or a scientist, he decided to lean on the latter when she cut some of his hair, and also asked the man for some of his blood, it had been fine and partially unconcerning.
It hadn't been the first time he had been treated as a lab rat to be studied.
But then things took a turn, the woman honest to God requested to have a sample of his skin. As in, she seemed to aim to mutilate him. He has been mutilated before, but that had been in battles and he hadn't even noticed until the adrenaline wore off.
And he had all his powers. Never like this, powerless, fairly human, completely weak and vulnerable. It made his heart race, but regardless of how much he tried to move, he couldn't, and it just made him bite his tongue. As he heard the footsteps approaching.
He struggled and struggled, move, move, move! But he couldn't move. No matter how much he fought, he couldn't move, he was completely and utterly useless.
He felt his heart drop and the breath catch in his throat when he felt the woman behind him. He really tried to fight back the shaking, but he couldn't for the life of him stop it. He couldn't focus on anything but the fact that they were about to slice him as if he were some fucking animal to be dissected.
He did wonder where the hell would she do that, since at this point all his arms, back and chest were covered in those tubes, golden blood being drawn out day and night, or whatever the hell time it was.
All his muscles stiffened when he felt something press against his side. So his side was it, wonderful, another thing to add to his already very fucked up month. He bit his tongue as he felt the pressure, a pressure that grew and grew until pain exploded on his side, and holy shit what the hell was she using to cut his skin? Why did it burn so fucking bad?
He clenched his jaw, tight. Breath trembling as fire sliced his skin open, vision blurring, by something he absolutely refused to acknowledge as tears. He wouldn't cry for something so stupid, he wasn't a child, he might look like one, but he was no damn child.
But that was easier said than done, because it felt as if acid was melting his skin, making a sound catch at the back of his throat, he could feel the blood trailing down his stomach, could very much feel the moment she began pulling the skin off, could feel it being peeled off, slow, agonizing, leaving nothing but an agonizing pulse of searing heat behind.
And she didn't do it once.
She did it again, still on his side. She did it, over, and over again, blood oozing out. Breathing quickened as more fire kept coming, knives of acid slicing through his skin, blood pouring out, spilling beneath him, drops of gold filling the buckets under the platform.
And he couldn't move. It did nothing but feed the fire inside him, making it grow and grow until something snapped somewhere inside.
Enough.
His arm jerked, hard. And he has never been more pleased over a scream of pain as he was right now, as his elbow collided with what he was sure to be the face of the woman behind him, sending her crashing on the floor with a shout of surprise and pain. Chains clinking.
He felt like he was holding a planet on his shoulders, like the weight might just crush him to dust. And still, he managed to sit up, lungs burning, air far too thin, making breathing near impossible. The world spun, all burnt. People were shouting, but he couldn't understand what was being said, he couldn't even see past the violently spinning world, blurred, far away…
He tried to get up, but his arms were useless, every single one of his limbs was useless, ankles and wrists handcuffed. He crashed on the floor, head connecting with the floor, sending it all exploding in a mess of blurred shapes and deafening voices.
Hands grabbed him, and just like that, the world went black.
~
Ariel.
That's the name of the woman Constantine had told the League about, she who sold angel feathers, could be found in her antique store in the outskirts of Fawcett City.
Something that was easier said than done, since Fawcett City seemed to be the epicenter of what the League had begun calling a magical hurricane.
God knows where the people had gone to, the citizens had refused to abandon the city, and then they had completely disappeared. They never left the city, they just… disappeared.
“What even makes you think she is still there? No one in their right mind would just stay here.” Flash said as he dodged a flying monkey looking thing that went straight for his face.
“She is, trust me.” Constantine wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew. That she would be there, he has never been able to decipher what she was, but he knew she wasn't human, nor the regular inhuman being. Something about her always made him feel uncomfortable and like being anywhere but under her gaze.
But if there was someone who knew anything about any rare magic spell ingredients anyone has ever bought, she was the person to go to.
As the antique store came into view, light could be seen filtering through the blinds of the window.
Odd enough, not a single flower from the pots outside was missing a single petal. Completely unfazed by the wind threatening to rip trees off their roots.
The League followed after Constantine, the door was unlocked, a bell tinkling above as the door was pushed open, and the second the League stepped through the door, it was as if they had stepped into the most unnervingly calm place on Earth. It made them relax, feel far too at ease. Wrong.
Constantine seemed unbothered as he walked up to the counter, completely ignoring the very real lion lying by the counter, very close to where he was standing. The lion sniffed his leg, but that was all the acknowledgement the animal gave to the man before going back to laying down.
"Dude." Hal did not squeak. He was a grown ass man.
Constantine ignored him, hitting a bell that sent a ring echoing through the whole store. And not soon enough, the curtains opened, several doves flying out as a woman stepped out.
A very unsettling woman who had an albino snake wrapped around her shoulders. She was dressed in an odd fairy-like white dress, wearing golden armor on her arms and a crown of lavender flowers on top of her head. Golden curls falling softly down her shoulders. Her features far too soft and otherworldly for her to be human, a breathtaking beauty that also just made her look all the more unsettling.
Her eyes a near unnatural shade of the deepest green, seemingly able to look straight into their souls.
Constantine shifted uncomfortably, looking away, he could never look her in the eyes, it just made the feeling all the more wrong. Made something crawl beneath his skin that he just wanted out and gone.
“Welcome, John Constantine. You brought friends, may I know what the occasion is?” She asked, her voice light, bright, much too warm. As if greeting old friends.
“You know what's happening Ariel. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? Who has bought angel feathers recently?” Constantine questioned, pushing down that uncomfortable feeling he always got whenever he spoke to her, he always felt like something wasn't right whenever he was too harsh or ‘rude’ to her.
Like the universe itself might be judging him depending on how he treated her.
Her smile dropped. And that just made Constantine feel even more uncomfortable. Wrong.
“You are here for the Champion. Right? But I'm afraid I can't help, whoever has him did not get angel feathers from me or those who sell them.” Ariel said, sounding somewhat sad, guilty and upset that she couldn't be of much help.
“Do you know something that could help us? Anything? Maybe they got the angel feathers from someone else?” Diana asked, she wasn't sure why, but something about this woman… there was more to her than met the eye, but she couldn't feel any wrong vibes from her.
It was actually the contrary, something about her felt… calm, warm, bright, welcoming, like she was worth trusting.
“No one would sell angel feathers without knowing the spell people are aiming to cast with it. And no one would sell angel feathers to those who mean harm to those who keep the balance of things. Whoever has him got the feathers outside our circle.” She did not sound pleased, in fact, she seemed quite disgusted. As if someone using angel feathers to trap creatures was the most disgusting and vile thing she has ever heard.
“So who could have angel feathers to sell… illegally?” Superman never saw himself saying those words out loud, he never even considered that angels might be real. Ironic when one of his friends was a demi-goddess. And he was an alien. Also had two more alien friends.
But something about angels felt a whole lot different, and it felt incredibly illegal and wrong to also imagine angel feathers being able to just be bought. That sounded like some sort of taboo.
The woman frowned, seemed to be deep in thought, though the way she tilted her head ever so slightly almost felt as if she was listening to something, but Clark couldn't hear anything but the howling wind, the storm and the roars outside.
She reminded Clark of when he first met Diana, with a static beauty that felt a bit too much to stare at for too long. Almost mystical and forbidden.
“Some demons will trade them for a good price, but no demons have sold angel feathers in months. Whoever has the Champion must have bought them long ago, maybe they might have been missing the blood of a God until recently and you are following the wrong trail.” She did have a point there.
But it was a bit difficult looking for someone who no one knew a thing about, someone who might be in Alaska for all they knew.
“You wouldn't happen to know of any God that's been slain or injured recently, right?” Hawkwoman's question got her an odd smile, this woman seriously made her hairs stand on end.
“No. I do not have that information, maybe you should ask Zeus, Living Lightning is the Greek pantheon's avatar, maybe he has clues on how to find him that he has not even realized yet.” Ariel spoke, looking at Diana with a look that seemed to know more than she was giving on.
And who was this woman, truly?
“If things do continue to get bad, maybe you should request help from the nordic pantheon, Yggdrasil's avatar might be able to seek the Champion out if things turn to worse, he is the second anchor. Or maybe you should consider calling an Endless.”
“No thank you, we will do with Zeus.” Constantine said immediately, he was not fucking getting involved with the Endless. He did not meddle, deal or so much as breathe their names.
The Endless were worse than the Champion, even incredibly extra super worse after the 90’s bullshit. No one with half a brain should ever interact with them. It was bad enough already he was getting involved with the Champion of Magic's shit.
And the nordic pantheon? He would rather not deal with that. He had enough with greek gods, ghosts, spirits, demi-gods, poltergeists, demons, angels and fucking Lucifer. He didn't need to expand his shit show. Thank you very much.
So, Zeus was it.
~
When Billy woke up, it was to a monumental headache and sore muscles. It took him a moment to come to his senses. World muddled over, blurred, smudged, so out of sync with everything.
It also took him quite a while to connect with the world in general, to realize he no longer laid on the platform, but on the floor of some place, a place darker than last he was awake, was he even in the same place or had he been moved? He didn't like that, he hated not knowing. He-
His stomach dropped and his blood ran cold when he realized something.
He was no longer in his Champion form.
It made his throat close and shivers run down his spine, no. Shit. No. Focus. He couldn't panic now, panic was never the answer in these situations, he had to keep calm, breathe. Deep breaths. But that was easier said than done, because he was on a whole new level of exposure. They now knew the truth and he would never be safe again. They would all know his face, they would-
He choked on air as he shifted, fire exploding on his side, and he bit his tongue, hard. Eyes prickling as the tortuous throb of fire kept wrecking through his side like a landmine that's gone off. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaky breaths leaving through gritted teeth.
Why? Why did people always felt such an urge to bring pain? All he ever did was protect them, so why did they do this? Why could they never just leave him be? He shifted again, slowly, chains clinking as he did, God it hurt , this damn body was far too human to be missing pieces of flesh and just let him be fine with it. He could feel the sticky blood, making his shirt cling to him.
He moved a bit more. Ankles, wrists and neck wielding thick shackles, even more thicker chains attached to said shackles and to the ground. He groaned as his fingers pulled at the collar locked around his neck, far too tight and uncomfortable . He moved his neck, pulling back in hopes to relieve some of the pressure on his throat.
The sudden sound of a door creaking open made him flinch, and he turned towards where lights filtered through. The same man from these past days stepped into the room, he was sure it had been days, or maybe his time was passing extremely slow and it hasn't been even a day. Who knows?
"My, look who is awake, welcome back to the land of the living, little lightning." The mocking tone made his blood boil, even more so the nickname, no one but his family used that nickname, who did this asshole think he was?
He glared at the man, wincing and blinking rapidly as a light was switched, bathing the room in a near blinding light, making him have to look down, his head was pounding. Everything hurt and burnt.
He heard the footsteps approach, refused to admit it made his chest tighten and his throat close, he wasn't afraid.
He wasn't.
He curled his fingers into fists as he watched the heavy boots come into view infront of him. He looked up, ignoring the pain that the bright lights sent into his brain, he would not look down, he was no one's dog, he wasn't about to bend down to this asshole's will. He might be small and practically defenseless right now.
But he wasn't about to be all pathetic for it. He wouldn't look down, he wouldn't let him win. He would never kneel for anyone. That's not how he was raised, he was raised to never step over others. Yes.
But he was also raised to never let others step over him. No one was above him. He was no one's pet, slave or servant.
Thus, he met Mr. Asshole's gaze, unwavering, glaring murder at him with all his might. He bit back the urge to growl, snap, anything to release some of the all consuming rage as the man knelt before him, amusement and curiosity in his eyes, much too condescending. And that damn smile… it made him seethe.
"Shapeshifting magic, right? I must say, it's impressive how your magic still worked enough to resist my binding circle."
"Or maybe your magic is just that weak." Thavma couldn't help but spit, words acid and as mocking as possible, anger burning his tongue. He felt pleased at the sight of the man's eyebrow twitching.
"Say, why are you a child?"
"None of your fucking business." He snaps, jerking back when the guy tries to touch his face, he better keep those hands off or he will be missing some fingers. Billy wasn't beyond tearing people apart through sheer force of biting.
“I can see why you would hide it, you are barely anything like this, so… human. But your blood is still useful. Granted, I will have to take it out through other methods, you know, to keep you from dying. But first…” The man pulled out a knife, made of celestial bronze.
It made his heart skip a beat, and against his own will, he found himself backing away.
“Easy there now, there's no need to be afraid. We will just make sure you don't try to escape.” Before Billy could even process it, two more people were walking into the room, faces covered by masks, he struggled, fought, kicked and bit, but they still managed to pin him down.
His shirt is pulled up, and he sees red, but his head is being held down, making him unable to do much. And he's never felt such righteous fury as he did right now. So hateful over this stupid small form.
But most of all.
He hasn't felt this vulnerable and afraid since Black Adam. To just feel as humanity steps over him and tries to break him. Looking at him as if he were nothing but an asset, a weapon, a tool.
Never a living being.
“Stay very still, little lightning.” Billy wants to scream, none of these bastards had any right to call him that.
And still.
That's all the warning he gets before the knife is driven into his skin, the searing pain slices through his chest, almost seems to burn through his catatonic magic, he tries to not let a single sound out, bites his tongue until he tastes blood as he stares at the ceiling.
But then the knife just becomes unbearable, it lodges into something that just makes a scream rip out of his throat, lights flickering above and ground quaking beneath him. His catatonic magic tries to stir, violent but unable to come out, a thunderstorm that screams inside his chest.
The lights above explode.
He screams, writhing, fighting to just move. Because something is very wrong. He doesn't know what they are doing but it's wrong. Wrong wrong. He wants them to stop. He kicks and screams, and he can almost hear the universe scream with him.
And still, he is unable to free himself.
He feels as if something deep within is being torn apart, like someone is flaying his magic thread by thread. Burning it all in acid. The ground cracks beneath him as his foot connects with someone's face, freeing his leg.
“Hold him down! I'm almost done!” Someone shouted somewhere, he saw white, he couldn't breathe, he was burning, something was burning from the inside out, his heart was racing, he couldn't breathe, the air was too thin, he couldn't breathe. It hurt. It burnt. There's molten lava rushing through his veins, decimating it all in its wake, tears stream down his face, blood running down his face, nose and chin.
And as something just lodges into his magic in the most wrong manner there ever was. Something just snaps inside him.
“No!”
But his shout is ignored, the last slash across his skin is delivered, and his magic twists in the most excruciating way possible, it twists and wails, burning something somewhere.
Something breaks.
And he screams. He screams as pain explodes inside, like a supernova going off, it ripples through his magic without mercy, the agony itself threatening to drive him insane, tearing his mind apart and making his magic scream with him. He screamed until everything was on fire, he screamed until the universe was screaming with him, and even as he was released, he kept screaming. He screamed until his voice could no longer be heard.
And even then, he kept screaming.
Because he could no longer feel his magic. He couldn't feel anything at all. What had they done? Where was his magic? Why couldn't he feel anything anymore?!
And so he screamed, because it felt as if something inside him had been stolen, shattered, to possibly never be fixed again.