John wanders through the abandoned wasteland that one was London. The cobble streets that were once slick with rain a mere 3 years ago are now cracked and dry, baked under the angry sun that sent solar flares that destroyed civilization as we know it. He knows exactly what he’s looking for– an old convenience store he used to frequent. It was pretty tucked away so chances are it hasn’t yet been looted.

He arrives at the alley, stepping through into the merciful shade it provides and stopping at the storefront. The window is already shattered, much to Johns irritation, but perhaps whoever was inside last hasn’t looted everything from the place. Please let there at least be a pack of cigarettes…

He ignores the door and steps through the shattered pane, shoes crunching on the shards of broken glass that lay inside. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and when they do they widen in surprise. His eyes have landed on a figure actively looting the place. How unfortunate.

“Oi!” he shouts to get the strangers attention, throwing caution to the wind. He’s John fucking Constantine! Greatest magician to have ever lived! Even when the other 75% of the population was still alive! He doesn’t have to fear this random in his convenience store!