Gotham. January 5, 2013

Zatanna Zatara stood before an ancient stone tablet, its cracked surface veined with glowing runes, flickering like embers beneath glass. The energy radiating from it was thick, dense—like the very air was saturated with raw potential. A tingling sensation ran up her arms, setting her nerves alight with something she couldn't quite name. Beside her, John Constantine flicked open his lighter, the flame casting long shadows over the mysterious artifact before he brought it to his cigarette. He took a slow drag, eyes narrowing as he exhaled a thin wisp of smoke.

"This ain't your standard bit of old-world hocus pocus, love," Constantine muttered, inspecting the tablet with a wary expression. "Whatever this is, it’s got some serious juice behind it. More than I’d like."

Zatanna didn’t respond immediately, instead running a gloved hand just above the runes, feeling the warmth pulsing beneath her fingertips. "It's not bound to anything. No spells tied to it, no external forces shaping it. It just... exists. A mass of pure, unshaped magic."

Constantine scoffed, shifting his weight. "Nothing just ‘exists.’ Somebody made this, or found it, and now it’s sitting here waiting for some poor sod to do something dumb with it."

Zatanna frowned, reaching into the folds of her coat and pulling out a small enchanted crystal, watching as it reacted violently in proximity to the artifact. "It’s stable—for now. But magic like this, untethered? It doesn’t stay quiet forever. Sooner or later, it’s going to react to something."

Constantine smirked around his cigarette. "That an ominous way of sayin’ ‘we should walk away’ or ‘let’s poke it and see what happens’?"

Zatanna sighed, rolling her eyes. "I’d rather not find out firsthand. This isn't something to be used recklessly. If the wrong person gets their hands on it—"

"Yeah, yeah, big bads love shiny dangerous things," Constantine interrupted, flicking the spent cigarette aside. "Question is, what do we do about it? ‘Cause if we leave it, someone else is bound to find it. And I’m not keen on cleaning up after another magical disaster."

Zatanna crossed her arms, deep in thought. "We can’t move it—not without the right containment, and I don’t have anything strong enough on me to handle magic this raw. But we could conceal it, at least temporarily. Keep it off the radar until we come back prepared."

Constantine grinned. "Now that, love, is the first good idea I’ve heard all day."

She sighed, shaking her head as she began weaving a complex illusion spell over the artifact, the glowing runes gradually dimming under layers of magical concealment. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it would buy them time.

As the last of the light faded, leaving only the quiet hum of residual energy, Constantine clapped his hands together. "Right, then. Drinks?"

Zatanna shot him a look. "You never stop, do you?"

"Not a chance, love. Not a chance."

---

The pair made their way through the damp undergrowth, Constantine’s boots crunching against scattered leaves while Zatanna moved with a practiced grace, barely making a sound. The forest surrounding the artifact had an unnatural stillness to it, as if the very land was holding its breath.

“Doesn’t sit right,” Constantine muttered. “Like the whole place knows we’ve been poking around where we shouldn’t.”

Zatanna nodded. “The magic here isn’t just raw, John. It’s old. Older than anything I’ve encountered. This isn’t a trap or some ancient spell left behind to ward off intruders—it’s like a wound. A tear in the fabric of magic itself.”

Constantine rolled his shoulders, clearlyh. "You telling me we’re standing in the magical equivalent of a ticking time bomb?”

Zatanna hesitated before replying. “Not a bomb. More like... a scar. It’s dormant, but it won’t stay that way forever.”

Constantine scratched his chin. "Yeah, well, reservoirs don’t fill themselves. Someone put this here, and I’d wager it wasn’t for decoration."

The shadows made them both turn. A familiar voice, smooth and measured, cut through the night air. "You two always seem to find the strangest things," he said, stepping closer.

Emerging from the darkness was none other than Jason Blood, his long coat billowing slightly in the night breeze. His eyes flicked toward the concealed artifact, a knowing look settling on his face.

"Do you have any idea what you’re dealing with?"

Constantine scoffed. "Mate, we were in the middle of figuring it out before you showed up with your brooding theatrics."

Jason ignored him, addressing Zatanna directly. "Magic like this doesn’t simply linger without purpose. Someone left it here, either in fear or in hope it would remain untouched. That should concern you."

Constantine gave him a sidelong glance. "Well, we were just getting to that bit, mate. But since you're here, why don't you enlighten us?"

Zatanna’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Then we need to know why. And who left it."

Jason nodded. "Then we don’t have much time. Because I can promise you—if you’ve found it, you’re not the first to come across it."

Constantine groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, brilliant. And let me guess, that means trouble’s coming?"

Jason’s expression remained unreadable. "Not necessarily. But in our line of work, it’s best to assume the worst."

Zatanna crossed her arms. "We haven’t detected anything that suggests it’s dangerous. Or looking for it or any like that, But it’s too powerful to leave unattended."

Jason nodded. "There is something else, That’s what worries me. If no one is looking for it, then whoever left it either thought it would never be discovered—or hoped it wouldn’t be."

A heavy silence settled between them. Constantine let out a long breath. "So what’s the move? We take it somewhere safe, yeah? Somewhere it won’t fall into the wrong hands?"

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"The Tower," Zatanna said decisively. "I can ward it properly there, study it without interference."

Constantine groaned. "More bloody work. Fantastic."

Jason smirked. "Feel free to leave it alone, if you’d rather not know what it is."

Constantine waved a hand. "Nah, nah. If something like this is just sitting around, I’d rather be the one keeping an eye on it."

Zatanna began weaving a concealment spell over the artifact, the runes dimming until they were barely visible. The energy remained, pulsing beneath the surface, but at least it would be hidden from casual discovery.

With the spell complete, she exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Alright, let’s move."

Constantine adjusted his coat. "Great. Another bloody relic or possible apocalypse to babysit."

Jason cast one last look at the artifact before turning. "Lets hope it might that i just a be more a relic, Constantine. Let’s hope we made the right choice."

----

---

Zatanna’s Tower. January 9, 2013

The artifact's presence was contained BY Zatanna’s wards. Its pulsations remained steady, neither growing stronger nor weakening, as if it was simply biding its time. Constantine’s visits became more frequent, though he never openly admitted it was out of concern.

Constantine, ever the skeptic, made a habit of visiting the sealed chamber with a flask in hand, muttering to himself as he kept watch. "I don’t trust things that sit too still. Means they’re waiting."

Zatanna spent her nights poring over ancient texts, searching for anything resembling the strange object. The more she read, the more she realized—nothing quite like this had ever been recorded. It wasn’t a lost artifact of a bygone civilization. It wasn’t a remnant of some forgotten spell. It was something else entirely.

"This thing’s got a rhythm to it, like a heart that ain’t beating right," Constantine muttered one evening, flask in hand as he leaned against the doorway of the sealed chamber. "Magic doesn’t just sit still. It either builds up or runs dry. This thing? It’s doing neither."

Zatanna ran her fingers along the rim of a newly drawn sigil, reinforcing the protective circle. "It’s like it’s in a state of limbo. Not inactive, not active—just waiting."

Constantine groaned, he couldn’t find anything matching it discrimination within his and Zatanna tomes or grimoires and his other sources of information wasn't reliable. And could downright cause chaos in of itself.

Jason Blood returned periodically, his expertise invaluable in deciphering the structure of the magic within it. But even he seemed perturbed. "It doesn’t behave like stored magic should. It’s not fading, not dispersing. It’s just... there. An untouched wellspring. And that’s not natural."

Constantine raised a brow. "You saying there’s more to this thing? Like it’s waiting for something to happen?"

Jason nodded. "Or for someone to do the wrong thing."

The runes continued their steady pulsation, oblivious to the scrutiny.

Days later, while Constantine flipped through an old tome, Zatanna noticed the first change. The artifact’s glow dimmed—not as if weakening, but as if drawing inward, conserving itself.

Zatanna sat upright, noting the shift. "First real movement since we brought it here."

Jason examined the surface. "Either it’s adapting, or it’s beginning to act."

"Or," Constantine muttered, shutting his book, "it’s waiting. And I’d rather not be around when it figures out for what."

Zatanna ignored him, her mind already forming an experiment. "We need to interact with it, carefully. See how it responds."

The three gathered around the artifact as Zatanna prepared a controlled spell, weaving a thread of energy toward its surface. The runes shifted immediately, their glow changing in intensity. A deep hum resonated, not aggressive, not defensive—just acknowledging.

Constantine exhaled. "That’s new."

Jason watched closely. "It’s responding, not rejecting. That means it recognizes the magic."

Then, one evening, the runes on the artifact pulsed again, brighter than ever before. A low, resonant hum filled the chamber—not from the artifact itself, but from the very magic within it, a steady vibration like the reverberation of unspent energy.

Zatanna frowned, observing the readings she had been tracking. "It’s not responding to anything external. This... this is something internal. The magic isn’t reacting—it’s stabilizing. That would be the mos likely"

Jason Blood nodded grimly. "That would mean it was never dormant. Just... unfinished."

Constantine groaned, taking a sip from his flask. "Brilliant. So we’re babysitting a magical work-in-progress."

Zatanna tapped her fingers against her chin, deep in thought. "That might not be a bad thing. If it’s stabilizing, it means we can study it properly. If it was going to explode, it probably would have already."

Jason crossed his arms. "That depends on what it was meant to do. And whether its intended purpose is something we actually want to witness."

It wasn’t doing anything unnatural—yet. But in the world of magic, things didn’t stay still for long.

They had time, but not forever. And if history had taught them anything, it was that magic, especially magic left alone for too long, had a way of making its own fate.

Zatanna, noticing the shift, immediately took down notes. "It’s the first real change we’ve seen since we brought it here. It’s not destabilizing—it’s drawing back."

Jason examined the patterns forming on its surface. "This could be a natural phase in its function, or..."

"Or it could mean something’s about to happen," Constantine finished, shutting his book. "I hate waiting games. Let’s see if we can poke it without getting blown up."

Zatanna rolled her eyes but nodded. "Agreed. It’s time we stop watching and start testing."

The three of them gathered around the artifact as Zatanna prepared a controlled spell, one designed to safely interact with raw magic. The air thickened with anticipation as she cast the incantation, sending a thin tendril of energy toward the artifact’s surface.

The moment the spell made contact, the runes shifted—rearranging themselves, flickering as if recognizing the energy. A deep hum resonated through the chamber, not aggressive, not defensive—just acknowledging.

Constantine let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. "Well. That’s relief."

Jason tilted his head. "It’s reacting. Its not rejecting, or not attacking—its just... responding."

Zatanna kept her focus, letting the spell hold steady. "We might finally get some answers. But let’s take this slow. If this thing is incomplete, the last thing we want is to force something into motion before we’re ready."

-------

Zatanna's Tower, January 23, 2012

The artifact remained in its place, nestled within the depths of Zatanna’s tower. The room around it felt charged, the air humming with an almost palpable tension. Hours had passed since the artifact had been concealed, but it was still there, pulsing with an energy that couldn’t be ignored. Something that wasn’t meant to be studied casually, yet something that could not be left untouched.

Jason Blood stood at the chamber’s entrance, arms crossed, his gaze never leaving the artifact. He’d been silent for the last few hours, but the unease was growing on him. "We’re running out of time. If we can’t identify what this thing is, we may be forced to consider more drastic measures," he muttered.

Zatanna glanced up from her tome, her expression a mix of frustration and focus. "We don’t destroy what we don’t understand, Jason. That’s how mistakes happen."

Constantine, lounging in a nearby chair, kicked his feet up and exhaled a cloud of smoke, a smirk playing at his lips. "Right, ‘cause poking the mysterious, possibly cataclysmic object is the smarter plan."

Zatanna frowned, eyes narrowing in concentration as she continued flipping through the ancient pages. "I didn’t say poke it. I said study it. And we still have options. But we’re not getting any answers if we just sit around here waiting."

Jason exhaled sharply. "Then we need another approach. Someone with a different perspective."

Constantine groaned. "Oh no. I know that look, love. And I know exactly who you’re thinking of."

Zatanna shut the book with a decisive snap. "Bobo."

Constantine rolled his eyes. "Detective Chimp? Bloody fantastic. A talking chimpanzee with a trench coat and a drinking problem. Just what we need."

Zatanna shot him a look. "He’s one of the best magical minds we have, and you know it. We haven't gotten anywhere within neary three weeks. If anyone can help, it’s him."

"If we’re bringing Bobo into this, we need to be prepared for his… methods. He has a way of seeing things we overlook, but that doesn’t mean he’ll tell us what we want to hear."

Constantine let out an exaggerated sigh, rubbing his temples. "Brilliant. We’re relying on a chain-smoking chimp with an attitude problem. What a fine mess we’ve landed in."

Zatanna ignored him, already reaching for a small enchanted mirror on the table. With a few whispered words, the surface shimmered, revealing the dimly lit interior of a bar—The Oblivion Bar, to be exact. Amongst the various supernatural patrons, a trench-coated figure sat at the far end of the counter, nursing a whiskey.

"Bobo," Zatanna called through the mirror. The chimp turned, blinking blearily before recognition dawned on his face.

"Zatanna. This is unexpected," he said, swirling his drink before taking a sip. "And judging by the company, I’m guessing this isn’t a social call."

Jason stepped closer. "We need your help identifying something. Magical, dangerous, and currently sitting in Zatanna’s tower."

Bobo sighed, setting his glass down with a dull clink. "You lot never call when things are simple, do you? Alright, let me finish this drink, and I’ll be over."

The mirror’s glow faded as Zatanna set it down, glancing at the other two. "He’ll be here soon."

Constantine groaned. "Joy. Well, at least we’ll have someone else to blame when this all goes sideways."

.....

A short while later, the air in the chamber shimmered as a portal crackled into existence. Out stepped Detective Chimp, his coat slightly rumpled but his eyes sharp with curiosity. He surveyed the artifact, his expression shifting from casual interest to intense scrutiny.

. “Not just woven together—*fused*. Like the universe itself sneezed this thing into existence.”

Constantine leaned against the wall, the cherry of his cigarette flaring. “So it’s a divine snot-rocket. Brilliant. How do we un-fuse it?”

"Chaos and order…” he muttered, paw tracing the air above a spiraling rune.

"Well now," Bobo said, pulling out a monocle and peering at the object. "You weren’t kidding. This thing is pure. I would akin it to the old magic if it wasn’t for the fact that that I feels like something apart of creation itself. If it was the case it would be older than than any and more powerful. And that’s saying something." He glanced at Jason. "Especially you, Blood."

Jason huffed but said nothing.

Bobo took a step closer, reaching out but stopping short of touching it. "Though I say that this thing’s got layers of magic woven into it, but the threads are all wrong—like someone tried to rewrite the rules of reality and succeed."

Zatanna exchanged a glance with Jason and Constantine. "Then what is it then?"

Bobo frowned, deep in thought. "That’s the part I need to figure out before someone else does. The tracking spells you put on it wasn’t working and mine I know wouldn't do much without extended periods of research, I’ll can tell you this: it’s not just an artifact. If that was the case it wouldn't Be this unusual power without an power source or less it has something to do with the celestial or chaos, its Like the universe itself sneezed this thing into existence. I’ll need time to untangle it, it feels like something only higher beings of choas and order are capable of."

Constantine clapped his hands together. "Wonderful. More bloody mysteries. uanswered questions. a possible divine snot-rocket. Brilliant. How do we rid of it?” "

Zatanna’s gaze darkened as she looked back at the artifact.