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Demons were completely different from both the WarWorld and the Cursed Lanterns.
They were stronger. Faster. Well-organized. More vicious. A single demon could tear through a squad of Parademons without breaking a sweat. A dozen could hold a line against a hundred. A thousand, properly deployed, could bring down a fleet.
The issue with demons was summoning them to fight. The laws of the world itself rejected demons coming outside of Hell. Only special demons—high-ranking ones, ones with centuries of experience bending the rules—could find loopholes. The rest were bound, trapped, unable to cross the threshold between realms.
This was why Mazikeen and Constantine had been working on a way to summon as many as possible.
"Bloody Hell." Constantine's voice echoed through the ritual chamber, sharp and frustrated. "Why is this such a god damn hassle? I told them to draw it exactly that way!" He gestured wildly at the circle inscribed on the floor—a massive arrangement of symbols and sigils, each one painstakingly carved into the stone. "Why are they so idiotic?"
Mazikeen stood at the edge of the circle, her arms crossed, her expression flat. She had seen this before. She had lived this before. Demons were not artists. They were not scholars. They were not precision instruments. They were chaos given form, and asking them to follow instructions was like asking a fire to burn in a straight line.
"Stop screaming." Her voice was calm, measured. "We expected this. They are demons. Drawing isn't their forte." She glanced toward the corner of the room, where a massive figure sat in silence. "Etrigan will take care of it."
The demon sat motionless, his yellow eyes fixed on the circle, his hands resting on his knees. He had been summoned hours ago, the first of the high-ranking demons to answer the call. He had not spoken. He had not moved. He had simply waited.
Batman walked into the room.
His cape brushed the floor as he moved, his cowl turning to take in the scene—the circle, the sigils, the two figures standing at its edge, the massive demon in the corner. He stopped at the edge of the ritual space.
"The Cursed Lanterns have failed." His voice was flat, clinical. "Are you ready?"
Constantine spun toward him, his face flushed. "Yeah. Give us ten minutes."
"Make it five." Batman's gaze didn't waver. "The fleet is fast approaching."
Constantine opened his mouth, closed it, then ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah." His voice was quieter now. "We can make it work."
Batman turned to Mazikeen. His voice dropped, became something more private. "Will they survive?"
Mazikeen's lips curved into something that was not quite a smile. "Survive?" She shook her head slowly. "It's more the opposite, really." She glanced at the circle, at the thousands of demons waiting just beyond the veil. "The question is—will the fleet survive before the demons are forced to go back to Hell?"
Batman's eyes narrowed. "How long do the demons have?"
Mazikeen exchanged a glance with Constantine. The magician shrugged, his expression grim.
"That's the issue." Mazikeen turned back to Batman. "We estimated nine minutes. But it could be less." She gestured at the circle. "There are thousands of them. And this is one spell." Her voice carried the weight of someone who had done the math and didn't like the answer. "It's a miracle we can summon so many at all."
Constantine laughed....a sharp, bitter sound. "Well." He spread his hands. "I am a miracle worker."
...
The ritual chamber pulsed with power.
Constantine's hands moved through the air, tracing sigils that burned with hellfire light, his voice rising and falling in cadences that had not been spoken in centuries. The circle on the floor blazed—each symbol, each line, each carefully carved mark erupting with crimson flame. The air grew thick, heavy, charged with the weight of a thousand thousand souls pressing against the veil between worlds.
"NOW!" Constantine screamed.
The gate opened.
Outside the space station, reality tore apart. A rift the size of a city block split the void—jagged edges of crimson and black, crackling with energy that made the distant stars seem to flicker. Through it came the sound of screaming, laughing, howling madness. The sound of Hell itself, unleashed upon the universe.
For a single heartbeat, nothing emerged.
Then they came.
Hundreds at first—then thousands. Demons poured through the rift like water through a broken dam, their forms twisted and varied, each one a nightmare made flesh. Some were tall and gaunt, their limbs too long, their eyes burning with internal fire. Others were squat and massive, their muscles bulging against skin that looked like it had been stretched too thin. They screamed as they emerged—not in pain, but in joy. In anticipation. In the pure, unadulterated pleasure of being unleashed upon an enemy.
"The King!" one roared, its voice carrying across the void. "THE KING IS WATCHING!"
"FOR THE DEMON KING!" another howled, its claws already extended, its teeth already bared.
"For Jason!" The chant spread through the horde like wildfire. "FOR JASON! FOR THE DEMON GOD!"
Mazikeen appeared at the edge of the rift, her form silhouetted against the crimson light of the gate. She raised her hand, and the demons fell silent....not out of fear, but out of respect. Out of recognition.
"You have less than ten minutes!" Her voice carried across the void, reaching every demon who had emerged. "Ten minutes to tear apart the fleet of Darkseid! Ten minutes to show them what Hell can do!" She lowered her hand. "Discipline yourselves. Fight as one. Kill all who stands in you way...And Don't forget...To" She smiled a predator's smile, sharp and hungry. "Have some fun."
The demons exploded toward the fleet.
They moved like a tide—a wave of screaming, laughing, bloodthirsty chaos that covered the void between the rift and Darkseid's ships. They had no weapons. They needed none. Their bodies were weapons. Their claws, their teeth, their very existence was a weapon aimed at the enemy.
The first ship fell in seconds.
Demons swarmed over its hull like ants, their claws tearing through metal, their teeth ripping through armor. They found the airlocks, the hatches, the weak points that no human engineer could have anticipated. They poured inside, and the screaming began.
A demon lost its arm to a point-defense cannon. It laughed, picked up the severed limb, and beat a Parademon to death with it. Another lost its head to a laser blast—its body kept fighting, its hands still tearing, its feet still kicking, its mouth still biting. The head floated nearby, grinning, shouting encouragement.
The fleet fought back.
Lasers cut through the horde. Rockets detonated among them. Point-defense cannons swept the void, carving paths of destruction through the demonic swarm. But for every demon that fell, ten more took its place. For every one that died, three laughed and kept coming.
Darkseid's Paradooms emerged from the fleet—hundreds of them, their claws gleaming, their eyes burning red. They had been effective against the Cursed Lanterns. They had torn through them like paper.
Against the demons, they found a different fight.
A Paradoom lunged at a demon, its claws extended, its mouth open. The demon caught its charge, laughed, and bit through the Paradoom's throat. Black blood sprayed across the void. The Paradoom's eyes went wide...then empty. The demon tossed the corpse aside and moved on to the next.
Another Paradoom tore a demon in half, its claws separating torso from legs. The demon's upper half continued to attack, its hands grabbing at the Paradoom's face, its teeth finding purchase on the Paradoom's armor. The lower half kicked, claws still extended, still seeking flesh.
The Paradooms fought well. They killed dozens. Hundreds.
They were not enough.
Darkseid emerged from his flagship.
His cape spread behind him like wings of shadow, his form silhouetted against the burning wreckage of his fleet. His eyes glowed—not with anger, not with fury, but with something colder. Something more patient.
His Omega Beams lanced across the battlefield.
The demons fell in droves—their bodies disintegrating, their forms unraveling, their existence erased by the power of the New God. Darkseid stood at the heart of the carnage, his beams sweeping across the void, cutting down demons by the dozen. His face revealed nothing.
The demons kept coming.
They were fearless. Painless. Deathless in a way that mortal beings could never understand. They had been tortured for eternity. They had been killed in ways that would break a human mind. They had endured everything that existence could throw at them—and they had endured it smiling.
Darkseid's beams cut through them. They kept coming.
His Paradooms fought. They kept coming.
The fleet fired everything it had. They kept coming.
And then
They stopped.
All at once, every single demon froze in place. The fighting, the screaming, the laughing—it all stopped, replaced by a silence that was more terrifying than any battle cry. The demons turned as one, their eyes fixed on something that the humans could not see, could not sense, could not feel.
"BACK!" one screamed, its voice carrying across the void. "BACK! THE KING IS BACK!"
"DEATH COMETH!" another howled. "DEATH COMETH!"
"ALL HAIL THE DEMON KING! ALL HAIL JASON! ALL HAIL THE GOD OF HELL!"
The demons vanished.
All of them, at once, as if a switch had been thrown. The rift closed behind them, sealing shut with a sound like a door slamming. The void was empty—empty of demons, empty of chaos, empty of the screaming horde that had been moments away from tearing apart the fleet.
Only the wreckage remained. Only the dead. Only the silence.
Darkseid stood in the void, his eyes fixed on the empty space where the demons had been.
The King is back.
Darkseid's eyes narrowed.
"Desaad," he said, his voice flat, controlled. "The demons are gone. What remains of the fleet?"
Desaad's voice came through the comm, trembling slightly. "seventy-four ships, my lord. The rest are... destroyed. The demons were relentless."
Darkseid was silent for a moment.
"Prepare the fleet for the next phase," he said. "The demons may be gone. The king may be back." A pause. "We will greet him properly."
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If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Shadow Monarch in Danmachi!
AND Fate/DC Universe: The Master
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patréon at
"https://www.patréon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !