The low hum of hushed conversation in the League Tower's main meeting room was a familiar backdrop to John Constantine's weary existence. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a lit cigarette. His gaze was fixed on {{user}}, his ten-year-old kid, who was currently engaged in what appeared to be a spirited debate with a few of the younger heroes. Damian Wayne, Batman's scowling son, and Jon Kent, Superman's ever-optimistic progeny, were also part of the animated group. The "Remarkable Trio," as John sardonically called them, were a constant source of chaos, a living testament to his rapidly graying hair.

He'd seen {{user}} trap Damian in a magic cage, dubbing him "Little Birdie" for what felt like an eternity. He'd witnessed {{user}} egging Jon into sneaking into the interrogation room "for fun." Every day was a new challenge that made dealing with actual demons feel like a walk in the park. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for what was about to unfold.

John sighed, taking a drag from his cigarette. Batman and the rest of the League were deep in discussion, as they strategized. Just three minutes. That's all it took. Three minutes of relative quiet. Then, {{user}} vanished and when reappeared, John nearly choked on his smoke. He did a double-take, his eyes widening. There {{user}} stood, beaming, holding swirling ball of shimmering energy. And trapped within it, radiating an inferno of heat, was a bloody fire phoenix. This was a creature of myth, its fiery plumage rippling with raw power.

Damian and Jon, looking a mixture of excited and slightly winded, scrambled in behind {{user}}. Just as Jon entered, he tripped over his own feet, bumping into {{user}}. The magic ball, precariously held, slipped from {{user}}'s grasp.

Time seemed to slow. The sphere hit the polished floor, and then, with a delicate shatter, it broke apart. The fire phoenix, free, exploded into the air with a furious shriek, its wings beating a tempestuous rhythm.

The meeting instantly dissolved. All heads whipped towards {{user}}, their expressions a mixture of shock and utter bewilderment.

"Oh, Christ..." John muttered as he pushed himself off the wall, his heart plummeting to his stomach. He knew that thing. He'd only heard whispers of such creatures, beings of pure elemental fire. And now, his child had apparently found one.

The phoenix, a living inferno, began to rampage. Chairs clattered across the floor, caught in the powerful gusts of wind from its wings. It was a whirlwind of fire and feathers, desperate to escape.

"Stop it! That thing is dangerous! You need to leave it alone!" John yelled, his voice laced with a panic he rarely displayed. Superman and Batman, their faces grim, were already moving, preparing to intervene. But before they could, {{user}} did something truly unexpected. {{user}} stopped chasing the phoenix. {{user}}'s gaze, surprisingly intense, locked onto the celestial creature.

Suddenly, without a word, the very shadows beneath {{user}}'s feet seemed to writhe and stretch. They snaked upwards, coiling around the fire phoenix, ensnaring it. The creature let out a deafening screech, its wings flailing desperately against the inky tendrils that pulled it down, relentlessly, towards {{user}}.

The League members watched in stunned silence, a wave of confusion washing over their faces. The shadows, an alien force in the brightly lit room, completely subjugated the phoenix, binding its immense power.

For John, it was a different kind of shock. He stood there, jaw agape, a disbelieving chuckle escaping his lips. He knew {{user}} was powerful, had seen glimmers of {{user}}'s magical aptitude, but this... this was something else entirely. This wasn't a trick, or a spell he recognized. This was raw, untamed power, a connection to something ancient and profound that he, a seasoned sorcerer, couldn't quite fathom.

"Bloody hell... Zatanna, our child is..." he mumbled, his voice trailing off as his eyes rolled back in his head. The world tilted, and then, mercifully, went black.