[A Diner in Queens]
"The coordinates of your reality have been exposed."
John Constantine let the words hang in the air like cigarette smoke.
"After the Joker... more will follow. He was just the canary in the coal mine."
Tony Stark and Agent Coulson stared at him. They had come here with specific, small-scale questions. Tony wanted to know how magic worked. Coulson wanted a profile on a terrorist.
Instead, the man in the trench coat had just dropped a bomb that made their concerns look like playground squabbles.
The coordinates of their universe were exposed?
Tony opened his mouth to argue, but Coulson beat him to it. The agent leaned forward, his friendly demeanor vanishing.
"What does that represent, exactly?"
John stubbed out his cigarette, grinding the butt into the china plate until it was just ash. He immediately lit another one.
"Simple economics, mate," John rasped. "The resources of every universe are limited."
He looked at them through the haze of smoke.
"Entropy. Decay. Consumption. Every world runs out of fuel eventually."
A heavy silence slammed into the booth.
Although John hadn't spelled it out, the implication hit Tony and Coulson like a physical blow.
Resources are the root of all war. Oil, water, land.
On a cosmic scale, it was no different.
If a universe is dying, and they find a fresh, untouched neighbor... there is only one solution.
Plunder.
"Okay, stop," Tony laughed, a harsh, incredulous sound. "Is there something laced in that tobacco? Are you high?"
Tony gestured wildly. "'Coordinates exposed'? 'Inter-dimensional colonization'? You expect me to believe this sci-fi B-movie trash?"
"You and the Joker are both visitors," Tony spat. "I'll give you that. But an invasion? If I hadn't seen that light show yesterday, I'd call the cops on you for fraud."
It went against everything Tony knew. Physics, logic, the closed system of the universe. He couldn't accept it because accepting it meant the threat was too big to fight.
Coulson, however, remained silent.
S.H.I.E.L.D. dealt with the impossible every day. Coulson had seen things—files on alien corpses, frozen super-soldiers, hammers that couldn't be lifted. To him, the world was already strange. This was just a new layer of terror.
He stared intently at John, his face hardening.
"I have no reason to lie to you," John said calmly, ignoring Tony's outburst. "In the future, more 'guests' will arrive. They will prove me right."
John pointed a nicotine-stained finger at the table.
"The Joker isn't from this universe. He obtained the coordinates of your world from the Void using a... let's call it a Divine Artifact. I happened to be hitching a ride nearby."
"To the rest of the multiverse," John whispered, "a brand-new universe is a virgin treasure chest. It's irresistible."
"And the energy fluctuations of crossing space-time? In the multiverse, that's like bleeding in a shark tank."
The diner fell silent again. The waitress topped off their coffees, oblivious to the fact that the three men were discussing the end of the world.
Tony wanted to call bluff. But the Joker was real. The magic was real.
"But..." John took a sip of his coffee, changing his tone. "Don't wet the bed just yet. Crossing universes has a price. A heavy one."
"So, in the early stages, you won't be flooded. You don't have to worry about a full-scale Multiversal War breaking out tomorrow."
John leaned back, looking satisfied. He had delivered the news. How they handled the panic was their problem.
Tony's five million dollars had bought the diagnosis. The cure was up to them.
Tony rubbed his temples, his mind racing with calculations he couldn't finish. Coulson, however, was already moving to the next step.
As an intelligence officer, Coulson knew the most dangerous enemy wasn't the strongest one—it was the unknown one.
"John," Coulson spoke up, his voice steady. "If you don't mind."
"Could you explain this 'Multiverse' to us? If we are on a map, we need to know who the neighbors are. We need to know the distribution of forces."
John paused, his cup halfway to his mouth. A slow, greedy smirk curled his lips.
"Of course. No problem at all."
He held up one finger.
"That'll be another million dollars."
Coulson blinked.
"I can give you the layout," John said smoothly. "I'll even throw in a bonus tip about the two major players for free."
"One million?" Coulson repeated. He wasn't Tony Stark. He drove a company car.
"I... I need to make a call."
Coulson stood up awkwardly, pulling out his secure phone. He walked to the corner of the diner, away from Tony's amused grin.
He dialed. "Director. He's offering intel on the threat structure. He wants another million."
There was a pause on the other end.
"Give it to him," Nick Fury's voice came through, crisp and cold. "If he's lying, we'll get it back in blood. If he's telling the truth, it's a bargain."
Coulson hung up. He walked back to the table, pulled a checkbook from his jacket pocket, and wrote the check with a sigh.
He slid it across the table to John.
"We aren't billionaires like him," Coulson muttered, gesturing to Tony.
"Don't worry," Tony smirked, "I'll pay for your coffee. I know government salaries are tight."
John snatched the check, tucking it into his coat before anyone could change their mind.
"Right then," John clapped his hands together. "Class is in session."
He leaned in, his eyes gleaming with dark knowledge.
"Let's start at the top. Have you ever heard of... the Prime Universe?"
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