Su Ming helped him up and looked him over, finding no injuries at all aside from some suspicious bruising around his neck and chest.
"Did you get mugged in a dream? Where are your shirt and pants?"
"You came too. I... it's a long story. Could you not ask?" Constantine's gaze wandered as he turned to look elsewhere. "I brought a friend, one who can help us."
As he spoke, he extended a hand toward the empty air beside him. A black wormhole opened in midair, and a pitch-black metal gauntlet rested in his palm.
As though stepping down a flight of stairs, Abby elegantly emerged from the other side of the portal.
She too was wrapped head to toe in Black Mud, looking like The Queen of Blades dipped in tar. The skeletal remains of her wings suddenly spread as she passed through the spatial rift, casting a patch of shadow across the space filled with Golden Light.
However, she was also holding Constantine's shirt and pants, while his brown trench coat was draped over her body.
Seeing this, Deathstroke and Bobo exchanged a discreet glance. There were far too many clues here; they did not even need to reason out what had happened between those two earlier.
Zha Kang really was still the same scumbag. He had dragged Swamp Thing off to fight the Lord of Order, and now that Swamp Thing had only been dead for a month, barely cold in his grave, Constantine had gotten together with his widow. Those two had only been separated before, not divorced.
Though they were all adults, and such things were commonplace in the United States, it felt especially low when Zha Kang did it.
"Rot Country... When did it become like this?" Abby greeted Bobo. They were old acquaintances.