Marvel's FBI?

When Dante stepped out from the clash of Ice and Fire, his entire body had crystallized into something diamond-like.

Just by looking, it was obvious—those primitive Freeze and Heat Guns didn't have the firepower or absolute-zero capabilities to put even a scratch on him.

The only downside? The prison uniform he'd swapped into after arriving at Fox River had been completely torched by Captain Cold and Heat Wave's combined assault.

Luckily, he was quick on the draw—he activated his Green Lantern transformation just in time.

Even if the tight battle suit that came with it left very little to the imagination, it was still better than running around completely naked.

Especially in front of two grown men.

"Who are you? Gotham? Star City? Or are you from Hell's Kitchen?" Snart asked, squinting.

He clearly had no idea who Dante was, so he was throwing out guesses based on the big-name hotspots. He just hoped it wasn't Gotham. The Joker and his gang might've been quiet lately, but everyone knew—once Gotham's freaks went nuts, they went nuts.

Worst part? Gotham villains never negotiated.

"Hmm… to be precise, I'm here on behalf of Washington," Dante replied, doing his best impression of sounding mysterious.

It wasn't often you ran into villains—or heroes—who were this out of the loop. Might as well keep his identity under wraps a little longer.

Washington?

That was a federal zone! Who the hell but HYDRA would be dumb enough to mess around in that area?

"Shhh, don't ask. It's for your own good."

In the blink of an eye, Dante had disarmed both Captain Cold and Heat Wave.

Snart looked him up and down, then sighed—and raised his hands with a casual smoothness that screamed: I've done this a lot.

"Why aren't you Rogues staying in Central City? What the hell are you doing in Illinois? You even went full crypto-casino and bought the whole damn prison."

"We don't know anything," Mick Rory grunted. He didn't raise his hands, but he wasn't making a move, either. Without his weapon, he knew damn well he wasn't a match for this guy.

"No. You know. You definitely know."

Dante didn't hesitate. He formed a glowing sword from pure Green Lantern Will—a Sword of Damocles—and let it hover right over Rory's head.

These two clearly thought he was clueless. And they were right.

But as long as they knew more than he did, and as long as they were scared of dying...

Well, that made things real simple.

"I'll give you five seconds. Tell me why you're here—and who hired you."

"We really—"

"Five... I don't care what you're trying to explain. Time's ticking... four!"

"Our employer's some blond British bastard in a trench coat! Always has a cigarette in his mouth! He tattooed a magic circle on my back and said it'd help him collect some artifact that fell here recently!"

Snart finally cracked, dropping the smooth voice and spitting out the info faster than a speedster on Adderall.

A blond British jerk in a trench coat...

"So you're working for that scumbag Constantine?"

"That's right! Constantine's got his eyes all over that artifact!"

Dante didn't pull the Sword of Damocles away—he just narrowed his eyes and gestured at Snart.

To take off his shirt.

"What are you implying?"

Snart's face twisted into something between confusion and panic, which almost made Dante choke.

"I'm not gay, you closet case! I want to see the damn tattoo Constantine gave you!"

Snart instantly looked embarrassed. That one was on him for thinking dirty.

When in someone else's house, you bow your head.

He took off his shirt, revealing a complex and precise magic circle inked onto his back.

Since unlocking Doctor Doom's Teleportation, Loki's Astral Projection, and Hela's Necromancy, Dante had picked up quite a bit of magic knowledge.

He wasn't on the level of Doctor Strange or Doom yet, but he'd officially joined the magic elite.

Even so, all he could really tell was that this magic circle had some kind of containment function.

"You've been camping out in this place for a while—mind answering a few more questions?"

"We'll talk. Just... can you please move that thing away from my skull first?" Mick said, eyeing the glowing Sword of Damocles. He swallowed hard, thinking that surrender wasn't so bad.

Dante shook his head but lifted the sword just a bit higher.

"Since the artifact and supernatural weirdness popped up in this prison, four FBI agents were sent here. You know what happened to them?"

"Agents?" Snart and Mick exchanged glances. "You mean those guys in black suits that got invited to the Warden's office? They walked in, walked out. Nothing happened."

"Nothing?"

"I mean, even if something did happen, we wouldn't know. That Warden's never left that weird tower-office of his."

Dante frowned.

Right. The mission report had flagged this "Warden" as unusual.

So if he wanted to fix the agents' amnesia, he'd have to go meet this mystery man.

But first, the artifact.

That Warden wasn't going anywhere, anyway.

"Shhh!"

Just as Dante was about to speak, Snart raised a finger to his lips.

A second later, the sound hit—deep, heavy, and slow.

Thump... thump...

Like the heartbeat of something impossibly large.

But Dante realized—these weren't two pulses from the same location. They were coming from different directions.

As if… communicating.

"Behind the death row block, there's another area," Mick said, pointing toward a dim, shadowy passage. "No guards ever go there. They act like it doesn't exist."

"That whole 'ignore everything after 10 p.m.' rule? That's for those sounds. They start like clockwork."

"Alright. Let's go."

With no better option, Snart and Rory led the way.

The previously sealed prison gate was torn open like wet paper by Dante.

The maximum-security area still had signs of human life, but past this point? It was completely deserted.

Only the pulsing sound grew louder in their ears.

Eventually, they reached the end of a long corridor—and a vast, circular chamber opened up before them. In its center, a deep meteorite crater.

Suddenly, Snart staggered and slid down into the crater. As he approached the artifact in the middle, the magic circle on his back began to glow brighter and brighter.

At last, kneeling at the artifact's feet, Snart collapsed.

The magic circle on his back ignited completely.

And only then did Dante realize he'd analyzed it wrong.

This wasn't a containment circle.

It was a reverse containment.

It was a release.

With a burst of brilliant light, a figure emerged from the glowing circle on Snart's back.

Click.

He lit a Marlboro.

Took a long, deep drag.

Blew out half a lung's worth of smoke.

Then lifted his head, eyes dull and weary.

"Good evening. I'm John Constantine."

"This meta from God-knows-where—too bad for you. But this artifact? It's mine now."

(To be continued.)

***

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