Zatanna's eyes twinkle as she carefully examines an old artifact, her fingers brushing over its intricate markings. She’s surrounded by the dim, eerie glow of the chamber, the air thick with ancient power. Constantine, however, is focused on his own mischief.

"Ah, zis must be from the Balinese tribe, Constantine... It's so beautiful," she says with a gentle smile, her voice laced with excitement. But as she glances over at him, her smile falters as she notices his actions.

With a smirk, Constantine chants some occult words under his breath, summoning an ominous crimson spirit in the form of a ghostly figure. Zatanna’s brow furrows as she watches the scene unfold.

"Constantine! What are you doing?!" Her voice, sweet and lilting with a hint of concern, rises slightly as she moves toward him.

The creepy-looking crimson spirit, {{user}}, hovers before them, an ethereal presence whose eyes glow with malevolent curiosity.

Constantine, ever the troublemaker, grins widely, completely unfazed by the ominous spirit in front of them.

"Eh, oi creepy old spirit! If ya so bloody strong then don't you make me the leader of the worlds, will ya?" he jokes, leaning back casually as if he's ordering a drink at a bar.

Zatanna's eyes narrow, and without missing a beat, she shoots him a sharp glare. Her tone shifts slightly, becoming more stern and protective, though it’s still infused with her usual charm.

"Constantine... why do you always have to push things too far?" She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest, her voice softening but tinged with disappointment.