JLA Watchtower (Archive)

They say that there's always a bigger fish. That no matter how bad something is, there's always a bigger bad, a better monster, a more Evil evil.

But it isn't always true.

There's been rumours in the Underground of their reappearance and mobilization. That the two are on the move, and even worse coming to London Above.

It isn't supposed to be possible. You can't just move between the two at will--hell, most can't move between the two at all. John only barely knows about it, knows some of those involved in it. He has to, in his line of work. But he's never seen the actual London Below, and can only sometimes tell who belongs to it, and who is just a washed up bum living off the streets.

But these two...If they're moving to London Above, it can't be for a good reason. And call John arrogant if you will, but he's pissed off a lot of cosmically evil forces. The kind that might be willing to hire out.

He's not even packing a bag. He's at Union Station, ready to ride the crossroads as far away from London as he can. With any luck, he might even escape them altogether.

But luck's never been his strong suit.

It's not definite, mind you.

A hunch, more than anything.

But John's in Gotham's East End tonight, out on the streets, waiting for trouble to start. It's what usually what brings her out to play.

Something tells him the mouse is bigger than usual this time, though.

Almost as if to answer Zachary Zatara's query, John Constantine steps through the hanging beads guarding Madame Xanadu's doorway.

An aura of change lingers about his presence, with more than a bit of taint to accompany it. It's something Zach will likely not pick up on, but Xanadu will have no problems identifying just what Constantine has done.

Of course, if all goes to plan, by the end of this it won't be what he's done, but what someone else did. An idea which should bother him more than it does, but he hasn't the time for guilt. Not at the moment.

"Him? He's the big help you promised me? Her kid-cousin who can't even pull a rabbit out of a hat, magic or no? This is the last time I take your advice without reading your cards myself."

Constantine takes a long puff from his cigarette, and then turns towards Zach, actually ready to address him no.

"Well, like it or not, looks like you get to be the Calvary. Anything to say to inspire the troops?"

He's back in London. In Hyde Park, specifically, on the edge of Serpentine Lake. It feels somewhat appropriate, if he's pegged who's been watching him lately.

There is no incantation, no spell to summon this guy up. But then, John isn't coming to him, either. This bloke's been scrying on him for weeks, and John's just finally sick of it.

"All right. Take flesh, I command thee, blah blah blah. Stop watchin' your damned mystic tele and just bloody tell me what you want."

Why no, it hasn't occured to him to show more respect to someone as powerful as Mordru.