Like Cogliostro had warned him, Al would have to pick sides: Heaven, hell. Malebolgia, God. You, Wanda.

You—you or Wanda.

Spawn's eyes menacingly narrowed into slits, a deadly stare that only seemed to amuse Clown and elicit from the filthy, stumpy Hellspawn a cackle.

"I can choose both." He said, the words a deep, defiant grumble in his chest.

Clown smugly shot back, "But you can't. Malebolgia doesn't let his ranking officers of Hell to just do whatever the fuck they want. And trust me, I know."

Another sinister giggle escaped from Clown's lips, his meaty hand—covered in who knows what—clasped over his mouth in an attempt to stifle his sadistic laughter.

The chains around Clown's neck tightened as Al's eyes darted towards yours and Wanda's dangling forms off the ledge of a skyscraper.

Al failed to recognise that this was simply just another mind trick being played on him by Malebolgia.