American comics: From Hogwarts to God on Earth

To ease Zatanna's embarrassment, Jason changed the subject.

"If I were to oppose a newly fallen one, I would never bring any puppets with me." He sat on the sofa, swaying from side to side until he found a relaxed position, and continued, "He was the first fallen one, and once the Satan of Hell. He can control the power of evil; leading people astray is his forte. So..."

"So he was even able to make those puppets betray their creator?" Rune narrowed his eyes.

"If he wants, yes, he can." Jason nodded. "His mere existence is enough to warp reality and unleash chaos and bloodshed. But there's good news: demons from Hell are weakened when they come to Earth. In Hell, a newly fallen demon is enough to kill some powerful gods, but outside of Hell, he'd probably only be able to kill some weaker gods, like the Party God or something..."

Clark exclaimed "Wow!" and then said, "Wow, he sounds really strong..."

Jason nodded: "That's right, he's strong. But with me and Rune here, holding off his avatar shouldn't be a problem."

He pulled a horn from his robes. The horn was entirely black, its surface covered with eerie dark red runes, seemingly containing boundless evil power. Its mere presence made the surrounding air feel oppressive.

Zatanna's eyes widened. She looked at the horn, then at Jason, and asked, "Tell me, is this the legendary horn that brings the end of the world when it's blown?"

“Yes, but only one of them. If we want to truly bring about the end of the world, we need…” Jason pointed to the sky, without saying his name, “the approval of that one. Then, Rune and I will hold him off, while Zatanna will blow the horn and wait 13 seconds. Just 13 seconds, and Lucifer will arrive. Then the First Fallen will have to face an attack from both us and Lucifer’s avatar.”

Jason repeatedly emphasized the 13 seconds, hoping that everyone present would remember this time.

"Clark, looks like I'll need you to ask for leave for me." Rune looked at his brother apologetically. He'd love to bring Clark along if he could, but that's a matter for the magic side, and Clark's magic resistance is just too low. If it were Wonder Woman, then perhaps…

Wait a minute, he could go to London to find Wonder Woman; at least his chances of success would be higher. Surely that woman wouldn't mind helping another underage girl, right?

Clark, however, was unhappy. He muttered something under his breath, but Rune didn't listen carefully. Instead, he asked Jason, "Have you ever heard of Diana Prince?"

“That demigoddess is also busy right now…” Jason sighed. “The First Fallen One chose this time to come looking for Zatanna. He did things discreetly enough that Lucifer only found out after his avatar left Hell.”

Rune couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. Who wouldn't want to see a powerful, literal goddess in a tight-fitting outfit?

After discussing all the matters, Rune planned to leave the box and say goodbye to his adoptive parents.

Martha looked at Rune and asked in confusion, "What, you're leaving again?"

"Yes, this time we're looking for ingredients for potions." Rune nodded, then nudged Clark in the waist with his elbow, and Clark seemed to snap out of his daze.

"Yes, that's it..."

Before Clark could say anything more, Martha put her hands on Clark and Rune's shoulders: "You still can't lie, Clark. Rune, can you be sure how many days it will take?"

Jonathan, standing nearby, looked at Rune with concern. He wanted to stop Rune, but deep down he felt that although Rune was young, he was mentally mature enough to bear the consequences of his decision. As his adoptive father, he shouldn't interfere with Rune's choice.

"I'm not sure, how about taking a week off first?" Rune thought for a moment and gave a conservative estimate. He wasn't wrong; this trip would probably yield some herbs, but he didn't know how many.

After setting down the dolls he had finished making and bidding farewell to Jonathan and Clark, Rune, carrying a suitcase and wearing a trench coat, bought some necessities and left the town. Considering what was about to happen, Rune didn't want to stay in a densely populated area. He wasn't so depraved as to use ordinary people as shields, especially since those ordinary people might not even be able to stop a newly fallen cultist.

Taking advantage of the darkness, Rune flew into the sky to increase his speed, only stopping when he reached a desolate wilderness. He opened his briefcase, and Zatanna and Jason emerged from it.

"The food here is much better than in London," Jason complained, taking the opportunity to add, "If you ask me, the food in London is hellish."

The Itler inside him also chimed in with agreement. Since they shared one body, their sense of taste would naturally be shared as well.

"Alright, stop fooling around, let's quickly prepare a grand gift for the newly fallen one," Rune shouted. "It has to be big enough, a real surprise!"

And in some unknown church.

Squeak—bang!

The heavy door, though clearly locked, was suddenly pushed open with tremendous force. A ragged, curly-haired man walked in, backlit.

The church was lit, and a portly priest put down his knife and fork, asking warily, "Who are you?"

The newcomer remained silent. As he walked, the candlelight in the entire church dimmed, the air thickened, and the solemn atmosphere turned oppressive. With each step he took, darkness seemed to engulf the statue. A single drop of crimson blood slowly slid from the corner of the statue's eye, winding its way down its cheek. The once solemn and holy face was now stained with an eerie and sorrowful hue by this blood.

Clapping along—

Even more terrifying things happened: the stone statue bent its arms and covered its eyes.

The priest stared in horror at the man before him. He raised the crucifix in his hand and aimed it at the man, but his hands trembled uncontrollably, and he muttered incantations. To his despair, however, nothing happened; just like the actions of the idol, God ignored him.

The priest finally spoke, demanding, "What are you going to do?"

The man simply walked up to him and placed his hand on his head. The priest's face turned ashen, his eyes widening. He felt something rising from his stomach. Soon, a swarm of white maggots surged out, crawling densely all over his chin, their dripping slime pooling on the floor in a disgusting puddle. The once plump priest quickly became skin and bones…

"It's not you..." the man said regretfully, but he didn't really feel sorry. Instead, he turned and walked away, heading towards his next target.