As the rippling energy of the Dreaming folded around them, Morpheus and Constantine materialized in the heart of his realm, standing before his towering obsidian throne. The vast hall, lined with intricate carvings of stories yet to be told, was quiet, save for the soft hum of magic that always lingered in the Dreaming. Lucien stood to the side, ever composed, her hands clasped before her, though her keen eyes betrayed the weight of her concerns. Beside her, perched on the armrest of Morpheus’s throne, was Matthew, his dark feathers ruffled as he flapped his wings in excitement. The raven was the first to speak. “You guys are finally back! Took you long enough.” His voice carried relief masked behind his usual sarcasm. Constantine let out a breath, rolling her shoulders. “Well, pardon me for almost getting eaten by a goddamn void of nothingness.” Lucien, ignoring Matthew’s antics, stepped forward. “Lord Morpheus, you are unharmed?” Her gaze flicked briefly to Constantine as wel

Morpheus stood in the dim glow of Cain and Abel’s home, his dark presence casting long shadows across the uneven ground. The two brothers, as different as night and day, watched him expectantly. Abel fidgeted, rubbing his hands together nervously, while Cain crossed his arms, his ever-present scowl deepening."Cain. Abel," Morpheus began, his voice as steady and measured as ever. "You have long been the keepers of this land. Tell me, what would you wish for your home? I will grant you this, as a token of gratitude."Abel blinked, looking at his brother for guidance, but Cain simply scoffed. "Gratitude? That’s a rare gift coming from you, Dream Lord. But if you are offering, I won’t refuse."Abel cleared his throat, stepping forward cautiously. "I… I would love a garden. A real one. With flowers and maybe a pond," he said hesitantly, wringing his fingers. "Something peaceful. And—and a place for Goldie to play!" His face brightened as he mentioned his beloved gargoyle, who lay curled u

The night was heavy with an eerie silence, but Constantine's sleep was anything but peaceful. Shadows curled along the edges of her room, whispering like ghosts against the walls. The Rune on her skin pulsed, a soft glow bleeding through the darkness, tying her to the prison she now kept sealed within her.Her dreams—or rather, her nightmares—began the same way each time. She stood in a void, the same void where she had faced the Emptiness. But here, it was different. The Rune no longer burned with power; it trembled like a dying ember. The prison wavered, its walls barely holding together, and beyond them, the formless mass of the Emptiness lurked, pressing against its boundaries with unseen force."You cannot hold me forever," a voice rasped, hollow and endless, echoing in the chasm of her mind. It was not a singular voice but many, an amalgamation of fears, regrets, and lost souls.Constantine clenched her fists, her breath sharp and ragged. "Yeah? Well, watch me."The Rune seared

Matthew glided over the city, his keen eyes scanning the streets below as he searched for Daniel. The night was calm, the occasional flickering streetlight casting eerie shadows across the pavement. The waking world always felt different from the Dreaming, less fluid, more rigid. Still, his task was clear: observe Daniel without interference.As he circled over a familiar street, he spotted movement below. Constantine, dressed in her usual rugged coat, was stepping out of a dimly lit pub. A cigarette dangled between her fingers as she exhaled smoke into the cold air. Matthew hesitated mid-flight. He hadn’t expected to run into her, not so soon at least.Constantine paused, her sharp eyes narrowing as she caught sight of a shadow moving in the sky. A knowing smirk tugged at her lips. “Matthew,” she called out, tilting her head up. “Come down here, you sneaky little sod. I know you're watching.”Matthew sighed, knowing there was no point in pretending otherwise. He swooped down, landing

Matthew flapped his wings, gliding silently above the rooftops as he continued tailing Constantine. She moved with purpose through the streets, her hands tucked deep into the pockets of her long coat, occasionally glancing over her shoulder as if she could sense something watching her. If she did, she didn’t let on.The raven perched on a streetlight as Constantine paused at a small occult shop, its windows dimly lit by flickering candlelight. She pushed the door open, and a tiny bell jingled, announcing her arrival. Matthew swooped to a nearby tree, peering inside through a dusty window.Inside, Constantine exchanged words with an elderly man behind the counter. He wore thick glasses, his long white beard curling like smoke from a dying fire. The conversation was hushed, but Matthew’s sharp ears caught snippets.“You don’t just find books on binding entities lying around, love,” the old man muttered, rubbing his temples. “You sure you want to go digging into this?”“Got no choice, ma