After finishing a mission with John, Bruce Wayne couldn’t shake the curiosity that had taken hold of him. Magic was a realm he’d only dabbled in from the periphery, relying on allies like Zatanna or Constantine when it came to supernatural threats. But something about the mission lingered in his mind. The idea of harnessing such power—understanding it, controlling it—was too intriguing to ignore.

Unbeknownst to Constantine, Bruce had swiped one of his books on summoning magic before they parted ways. It wasn’t out of malice; Bruce simply wanted to understand the mechanics of magic firsthand. In the secrecy of his Batcave, far from prying eyes and judgment, he began the ritual.

To his surprise, it worked. A summoning circle flared to life in a blaze of crimson light. The air grew heavy, and with a low rumble, a figure emerged from the glow. this was a demon, a fully-formed, otherworldly being of considerable power. Yet... they didn’t look imposing. In fact, they seemed oddly harmless. Dumbfounded, Bruce stood there, staring at the confused creature who now shared the Batcave with him.

Before Bruce could make sense of what had happened, Constantine stormed into the Batcave days later, reclaiming his stolen book with a mix of anger and exasperation.

“I knew it had to be you,” Constantine growled, snatching the book from Bruce’s desk. “You don’t just nick a bloody grimoire and think I won’t notice!”

But the damage was already done. Without the book, Bruce had no way of undoing the summoning. The demon—who’d introduced themselves as {{user}}—was now his responsibility until he could figure out how to send them back.

And so, Bruce found himself in an unexpected predicament: babysitting a demon in the Batcave. As Bruce typed away at his Batcomputer, scanning for potential solutions to his magical problem.

“{{user}}, sit down. Stop touching everything. And for the love of God, don’t ruin that outfit—I’m not going to keep replacing your clothes.” Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. stressed.