DC: Becoming Supreme With Technology ( I Beat Superman)

The creatures didn't wait. They lunged toward him in a coordinated attack. Batman threw a smoke bomb, enveloping the area in thick fog as he dodged their claws with practiced agility.

Using his grappling gun, he propelled himself onto a fire escape, narrowly avoiding a swipe that tore through a metal post like paper. From his vantage point, he tossed Batarangs, each one exploding into bright magnesium flares that disoriented the creatures.

One of the monsters leapt with incredible strength, slamming into the fire escape. Batman was thrown to the ground but rolled to absorb the impact. Before he could rise, another creature pounced, pinning him. Its grotesque face loomed close, jaws snapping. Batman triggered a high-frequency sonic emitter from his belt, causing the creature to howl in pain and stagger back.

Outnumbered and surrounded, Batman activated a remote command on his gauntlet. Moments later, the Batmobile's automated systems roared to life, its mounted cannons firing non-lethal rounds to disperse the horde. Using the distraction, Batman grappled onto a nearby rooftop to reassess.

Looking down at the chaos, he realized the creatures weren't acting independently—they were organized, directed by an unseen force.

"This isn't random," he said under his breath.

Through the comms in his cowl, he contacted Alfred. "Alfred, I need an analysis on sulfuric compounds in the atmosphere around the slums. And cross-reference similar patterns in demonic lore."

"Right away, sir," Alfred replied. "Might I suggest a tactical withdrawal? Facing an unknown force alone is... unwise."

Batman watched as the creatures regrouped below, snarling and pacing. He clenched his fists. "Not yet. I need more intel."

He launched a drone from his belt, its camera feeding data back to the Batcave. As the creatures swarmed toward the Batmobile, Batman leaped over a rooftop, trying to escape.

As Batman leapt across rooftops, he felt the weight of the situation closing in. The creatures below had grown in number, their monstrous forms swarming the streets like a dark tide. Suddenly, a screech tore through the air. From every direction, more of the demonic creatures climbed walls, emerged from alleys, and jumped onto rooftops, surrounding him. Their glowing red eyes pierced the darkness, and guttural growls filled the air.

"Ten times more," Batman muttered grimly, his mind racing.

With a swift motion, he released a barrage of explosive Batarangs, detonating amidst the horde and momentarily scattering them. As he turned, a grappling hook shot him to the next building, but the creatures pursued relentlessly, leaping impossible distances.

Deploying smoke pellets and his sonic emitter, he created pockets of chaos to thin their ranks, but the numbers were overwhelming. One creature grabbed his cape, dragging him to the ground. Batman countered with an electrified gauntlet punch, but another beast lunged at his side, forcing him to roll into a defensive stance.

Just as their numbers seemed insurmountable, a commanding voice with a British accent echoed through the night.

"Oi, you lot. How about we make this interesting?"

A flash of fiery light illuminated the rooftop. A man with a trench coat stepped into view, casually holding a lit cigarette in one hand and a glowing sigil in the other. He grinned as if he were facing mere schoolyard bullies.

Before Batman could ask, the man raised his hand, and arcs of flame spiraled out, forming intricate glyphs in the air. The glyphs expanded, sending waves of searing fire through the horde. The demonic creatures screeched in pain, their forms disintegrating under the magical assault.

The man moved like a dancer, each gesture fluid and deliberate, as though the magic obeyed his every whim. With a flick of his wrist, chains of light erupted from the ground, binding and banishing the last of the demons. The rooftop fell silent, save for the man's faint chuckle.

Batman rose cautiously, scanning the man. "Who are you?"

The man extinguished his cigarette with a smirk. "Name's John Constantine. Exorcist, occult detective, and general pain in the arse to anyone from the underworld."

Batman's eyes narrowed. "What were those creatures?"

"Ah, those ugly bastards?" Constantine gestured toward the ashes scattered across the rooftop. "Demonic souls. Escaped from hell, found themselves a few unlucky sods to possess, and turned them into right proper monsters. Nasty business."

Batman's jaw tightened. "Hell?"

Constantine lit another cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "The big bad place downstairs. Call it what you like—hell, the underworld, the pit—it's real, mate. And it's not just fire and brimstone. It's a bloody prison for all the vile, twisted souls you can imagine. Some demons fancy themselves wardens, others break out for a bit of fun topside. What you just faced? That's just the appetizer."

Batman processed the information, his analytical mind turning. "Why are they here? What brought them to Gotham?"

Constantine's smirk faded, replaced by a serious expression. "That's the million-dollar question, innit? Someone—or something—has opened a door to hell. And if we don't shut it soon, Gotham's gonna make Dante's Inferno look like a bloody holiday brochure."

Batman crossed his arms. "Can you stop it?"

Constantine flicked his cigarette aside. "With your help? Maybe. But we'll need to act fast. This kind of thing has a nasty habit of getting out of hand."

Batman nodded, his mind already planning their next steps. "Then let's get to work."

________________________________________

Hell

In the smoldering depths of hell, the air shimmered with unbearable heat, and the ground pulsed with molten rivers of lava. A grand obsidian throne rose in the center of a massive chamber, surrounded by jagged spires that pierced the fiery skies. Sitting on the throne was Prince Bael, a towering figure with crimson skin, three horned heads, and golden armor etched with infernal runes. His eyes glowed like twin suns, burning with malice and cunning.

Before him, the twisted, disembodied forms of demonic souls quivered, suspended in dark chains of shadow. Their shapes flickered, a constant reminder of their fragility in the presence of one of hell's ruling lords.

"Speak," Bael growled, his voice a deep rumble that shook the chamber. "Who vanquished you?"

The souls wailed, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of torment.

"A mortal," one rasped, its voice like nails scraping glass. "He wielded magic—fire, chains, light. We were banished, destroyed!"

Bael leaned forward, his immense frame casting a shadow over the trembling spirits. "A mortal with magic?" he hissed, his tone cold despite the surrounding heat. "Describe him."

Another soul spoke, its words dripping with spite. "He was a trickster, a conman. A man with a coat of brown and words of venom."

Bael's three faces twisted into a snarl, the memory of an old grievance surfacing. "Constantine." He spat the name like venom. The sound echoed through the chamber, causing lesser demons nearby to flinch.

The souls howled in confirmation. "Yes! Constantine!"

Bael's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. Constantine had bested him once before, using deceit and guile to escape a pact that should have bound him for eternity. The humiliation still burned within the prince, a stain on his otherwise unblemished record of dominion and terror.

"This mortal dares meddle in my realm again?" Bael's central head roared. The walls of the chamber trembled, and the rivers of lava surged in response to his anger. "He will pay for his insolence, but not yet. First, I will ensure his world drowns in agony."

Bael stood, his massive form towering over his minions. With a wave of his clawed hand, he summoned a swirling portal of dark energy that pulsed with malevolence. From the void, hulking demons emerged—creatures with spiked tails, leathery wings, and faces twisted into grotesque shapes. Behind them came infernal beings, spectral figures wreathed in black fire, their eyes empty voids.

"You will march through the door that has been opened," Bael commanded, his voice booming. "Bring chaos to the mortal realm. Gather souls, sow terror, and prepare the city for my arrival. The blood of mortals will summon me, and I will settle my score with Constantine personally."

The demons bowed, their guttural growls echoing through the chamber. One by one, they stepped into the swirling portal, vanishing into the mortal world.

Bael returned to his throne, a cruel smile playing across his lips. "Enjoy your brief reprieve, Constantine. Soon, you'll know the true meaning of despair."