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Chapter 128: The Lies of Another World John
🕑 Added 2025-01-30 16:20:51 +0000 UTCSeeing this, the Witch Queen's expression grew increasingly grim.
She realized that Peter's glowing body was actually blocking her magical detection and influence!
The Witch Queen could clearly feel that her transformation spell had been momentarily delayed.
On the other side, Peter clenched his fists. Sensing that the celestial energy within him was interfering with the Witch Queen's magic, he felt a wave of relief wash over him.
It seemed that celestial power had some level of resistance against magic.
Although it didn't allow him to completely ignore magic, it granted him enough magical resistance to prevent the Witch Queen's spells from running rampant on him.
Enduring the spatial constraints on his body, he slowly lifted his head and saw the Sphinx, who had left earlier, suddenly return.
Breaking free from the Witch Queen's spatial control, he instantly teleported to Zatanna's side and forcefully pushed her away.
Still in pain, Zatanna never expected Peter to shove her out of harm's way.
Before she could react, she was caught by a mouth—
The Sphinx, formed from folded paper, grabbed Zatanna and fled the scene at lightning speed, leaping out of the window.
Staring in disbelief as Peter pushed her away to face the battle alone, Zatanna's eyes were filled with shock.
Crash!
Glass shattered as the Sphinx carrying Zatanna leaped into the air.
A torrential downpour suddenly cascaded from the sky, accompanied by flashes of lightning and rolling thunder.
After flying for a while, the Sphinx's speed gradually slowed until it finally landed on the ground.
"My child, I believe you will choose the right door and ultimately find the truth."
The Sphinx's voice gradually faded as it spoke to her.
"What door? Wait!"
Zatanna dismounted from the Sphinx and looked at it in shock as it began to dissolve.
"You're falling apart, Sphinx!"
Watching as the paper-formed Sphinx melted away, Zatanna reached out sorrowfully, trying to grasp it.
"My child, appearances can be deceiving—this is true for all things. Sometimes, a Sphinx made of paper cannot withstand the rain."
The Sphinx's voice grew fainter. "And sometimes, even a witch is no match for a little girl."
With those final words, the Sphinx dissolved completely under the rain.
Zatanna knelt on the ground, catching a single piece of paper that had fallen from the Sphinx's body. Tears streamed down her face.
"No… no… Uncle Podrick is still fighting, and Burkes is still waiting for me to save him. I can't stay here and cry."
She immediately stood up and wiped away her tears.
"The Sphinx said I would open the right door. I have to keep going."
Despite being drenched by the rain and the discomfort seeping into her body, she pushed forward, step by step.
She had no idea how long she had been walking when she suddenly came across a black door.
Recalling that Burkes had once mentioned that the realm of the dead sometimes held answers, Zatanna hesitated, unsure whether she should take the risk.
But thinking of Peter, who was in danger because of her, she gritted her teeth and pushed the door open, stepping inside.
"Mr. Podrick is not afraid of death, and neither should I!"
Screech…
The door creaked open, and John hesitated at the entrance.
After obtaining Zatanna's home address from the Dead Rabbit Gang, he had rushed here immediately.
Upon entering, he was met with an unbelievable sight.
Countless staircases extended in all directions, leading to numerous different doors.
Uncertain of what was happening, John hesitated before randomly picking a door to investigate.
He pushed it open and stepped inside.
Inside, the room was pitch black, devoid of any light.
Click!
Suddenly, a blinding light flickered on.
John was stunned to see a mirror appear before him.
Within the mirror, a scene was unfolding.
Journalists were snapping photos of a blond man dressed exactly like him, his slicked-back hair and slight smirk identical to his own.
John was shocked.
Despite the man being much older, John immediately recognized him as… himself!
No… perhaps the other him from his dreams.
In the mirror, an interview was taking place.
A journalist asked the blond man, "First of all, John, congratulations on being named Time magazine's Superhero of the Year. How does it feel to receive such an honor?"
"Don't get me wrong, your magazine is great, and I'm honored. But let's be clear—getting on a magazine cover isn't what gets me out of bed in the morning. Think about it: if I don't save people, who will? Without me, the world would burn—literally. Blood and fire everywhere."
The journalist nodded and continued, "As someone so influential, what do you hope people take away from this honor? What do you want to inspire in them?"
With a warm, charismatic smile, John replied, "I just want a little respect. You know, lately, superheroes have faced nothing but hate, discrimination, and baseless legal accusations. I hope this recognition makes people pause and consider the sacrifices we make. Maybe it'll inspire them to become heroes in their own way."
"What do you do for fun? How does America's greatest superhero unwind? Do you even take days off?"
John chuckled. "No, because terrorists and bank robbers don't take days off. But I do enjoy grabbing one of those incredible hot dogs at Coney Island—pure American flavor. And I love a good, rich milkshake."
The journalist pressed on. "Tell us about your family, John."
Taking a deep breath, John said, "I love my family. You know, I grew up on a farm with my father. He was my only parent, and I had an amazing childhood. Do you know what my first birthday gift was?"
With a nostalgic smile, he continued, "It was a superhero costume, just like the one I wear now. And my dad took me to an amusement park and a museum. At six o'clock, there was a high school band performance, and a group called the 'Happy Han Barber Shop Quartet' played. It was unforgettable."
Listening to the other version of himself, John was in shock.
That's my story!
This guy is lying!
Immediately, John analyzed the man's facial expressions and micro-movements, confirming he was lying.
Yet, his happiness wasn't faked.
How does he know my past?
As John reeled from the revelation, the interview continued.
"But I don't like birthdays," the man in the mirror said.
"Why?" the journalist asked.
"Because it means my father is getting older. He once told me: 'As you grow, you'll realize that every birthday is like a revolving door—it takes you deeper and deeper until, one day, it stops being about possibilities and becomes inevitable.'"
Hearing this, John was shaken.
He recalled the nightmares he often had—dreams of being tortured in a laboratory, surrounded by cold and loneliness.
Could those nightmares actually be the past of the man in the mirror?
Since he could dream of him, could the man in the mirror dream of him too and learn his past?
Overwhelmed by the absurdity of the thought, John took a step back, his mind in turmoil.
What was this room?
Why was it showing him this?
At that moment, the interview neared its conclusion.
The John in the mirror said wistfully, "Sometimes, I dream of a black door. If I open it, I'll see my father. Sometimes, he feels so close, and other times, he feels worlds away."
Screech…
On the other side, Zatanna finally summoned the courage to push open the black door.
