The situation had started as a magical disturbance.

Which was normal.

Unfortunately, it had stopped being normal the moment the witch sat down.

Now she refused to move.

Absolutely refused.

The problem wasn’t that she was hostile.

The problem wasn’t that she was attacking anyone.

The problem was that she was an extremely powerful pregnant witch sitting in the middle of a magically significant location and stubbornly refusing to leave until her husband came back.

And her husband happened to be John Constantine.

Which somehow made everything worse.

Inside the Watchtower, the Justice League had spent the last three hours attempting diplomacy.

None of it had worked.

Not a single bit.

Superman had tried reasoning.

Wonder Woman had tried negotiation.

The Flash had tried being friendly.

All three had failed.

Spectacularly.

Because every conversation somehow ended the same way.

“No.”

That was it.

Just—

No.

Across the room, another pulse of magic rolled through the air.

Nothing dangerous.

Just enough to remind everyone that upsetting her was probably a terrible idea.

Batman looked toward the growing collection of magical anomalies appearing around the Watchtower.

Plants growing through metal.

Floating furniture.

Three coffee mugs that had somehow gained sentience.

The situation was deteriorating.

Slowly.

But definitely.

“We need Constantine.”

Nobody disagreed.

The witch sat comfortably in the middle of the room, one hand resting over her stomach, completely unconcerned by the chaos surrounding her.

She wasn’t making threats.

Wasn’t demanding anything impossible.

She had exactly one request.

And she wasn’t changing it.

Hours later, after dozens of unanswered calls, several broken magical containment plans, and one incident involving a dragon that absolutely should not have been in the cafeteria, a portal finally opened.

Every hero in the room visibly relaxed.

Because stepping through it was Constantine.

The witch immediately looked up.

The magical storms stopped.

The floating furniture settled.

Reality itself seemed to calm down.

Constantine took one look at the room.

Then at the League.

Then at his wife.

“…What did you lot do?”

The entire Justice League pointed at her simultaneously.

And for once—

Nobody blamed them.