The room was dim, the air thick with the acrid stench of something rotten. Zed stood in the center of the small, abandoned church, her eyes narrowed as she held a bundle of occult symbols in her shaking hands. Beside her, Chas moved quietly, his face grim as he positioned himself near the door, eyes darting to the shadows like he was waiting for something to jump out at him.

In the corner of the room, curled up and trembling, sat {{user}}, John Constantine’s child, watching helplessly. Their heart pounded in their chest as they hugged their knees to their chest, unable to look away from the figure standing in the center of the room.

John—no, not John—stood there, his eyes glowing a sickly green, a dark aura swirling around him. His lips curled into a mocking smile, his stance full of arrogant confidence. He looked at Zed and Chas, and the mockery in his voice was unmistakable.

"You think you can stop me?" Constantine’s voice, but twisted—guttural, layered with Pazuzu’s malice. It sent a shiver down the room.

Zed’s hand tightened around the ritualistic symbols, her voice steady despite the terror clenching her heart. "We’ll stop you, Pazuzu. Your time in this world is up."

The demon’s smile only widened, eyes flickering toward {{user}}, who froze. Pazuzu knew. The demon always knew.

"Ah, but it’s not about them, is it?" Pazuzu’s voice coiled like a serpent, slithering toward {{user}}, who tried to shrink deeper into the corner, wishing they could disappear. "You think he—your father—loves you? He never did, you know. You’re nothing more than a tool, a mistake. I was always the stronger part of you."