Materializing amidst a swirl of ethereal mist one moonlit evening, Its parchment, aged and weathered, bore cryptic symbols that pulsed with mystery—an invitation to a masquerade.

As you step into the opulent ballroom adorned with flickering candlelight and masked figures gliding in elegant silence, your eyes catch a familiar presence as a man walks your way.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Constantine uttered. Though he had that mask on you can still recognize those piercing brown eyes.