Herpo's breath hitched. The words didn't register at first, they couldn't. "What do you mean, brother?" he stammered, his pale eyes flicking with disbelief. "What do you mean the realm is rejecting you?"
Morpheus stood there — calm, steady — but his skin shimmered faintly with currents of power that rippled like heat over stone. He smiled faintly, though the gesture never reached his eyes.
"I figured this was a possibility," he murmured. His tone was soft, broken, as if every syllable weighed a ton. "My body… it's been remade to be a perfect vessel. A bridge for magic to ascend all realms of existence. If I stay here too long, I'll tear this world apart. The ley lines are already fracturing beneath my feet. Me just being alive here will cause unremovable harm to this realm."
"Morpheus—"
"I tried, brother." His voice cracked. "I tried everything to avoid this. But this was the only path left. The only way to victory."
Herpo's lips trembled, his composure unraveling as his brother stepped closer. "Don't—"
But Morpheus embraced him before he could finish. The contact sent a surge of agony through Herpo's body — his breath hitched, eyes wide as he felt his magic being siphoned, drawn away in invisible threads. The world around them flickered with unstable energy, stones trembling, sigils searing into the air.
"I love you, brother," Morpheus whispered against his ear, his voice breaking. "Please… lead this world to salvation. I've built the foundation. The alliances, the bridges. Integrate with the Muggles — it's not possible now, but one day… it must be. Push our society forward. Please. Try everything."
"Morpheus—please, no—"
The light around him swelled — a blinding white that tore at the edges of the world. And then, in a single instant, he was gone.
Herpo collapsed to his knees. The silence that followed was deafening. Tears streamed freely down his face as he clutched at the empty air where his brother had stood, the warmth of his touch already fading.
"Morpheus…" he choked out. "Brother…"
The ground beneath him stilled. The last echo of his brother's power faded into the wind — but the scars it left behind, both on the world and in Herpo's heart, would never heal.
****
The sky above the battlefield fractured.
Outside Hogwarts, the air rippled — a sudden stillness rolling across the chaos like the calm before a tidal wave. The screams, the clash of spell and steel, the roar of angelic wings and demonic howls — all of it died in a single breath.
And then he appeared.
Morpheus hovered above the battlefield like a specter suspended in the wind — his form translucent, luminous, and yet heavy with impossible gravity. Even the dying fires bent toward him. The wounded stopped groaning. The very air itself hushed.
Every spell sputtered and died mid-flight. Wandlight extinguished, swords dulled, divine halos flickered to nothing. All eyes turned skyward as his shadow stretched across the battlefield.
Far beyond, at the distant shrine across the world, another Morpheus — identical, spectral — rose into existence, standing over the ruins and fractured veil that once connected realms. Both raised their hands in unison.
The air cracked.
And the fissures that split the sky — the wounds through which gods, angels, and demons had spilled into the mortal world — began to close. Slowly, methodically, the seams knitted themselves shut, sealing off the realm beyond.
The last of the divine reinforcements vanished from the edges of existence, leaving only those already trapped within the human world — the remnants of the invasion, now cut off and alone.
Then Morpheus spoke.
His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It resonated through people — a vibration felt in the bones, in the soul. His words echoed from every tower, forest, mountain, and ruin across England… and from the shrine far away.
"My name… as many of you know…"
Both Morpheuses spoke in perfect synchrony, their tones deep and sorrowful, ancient and final.
"My name is Morpheus.
I have caused countless people to sacrifice their lives.
I have caused suffering to all of you.
And I will end it."
His gaze swept over the battlefield, lingering on the soldiers — wizard and centaur, goblin and witch — all frozen in awe.
"All you need to do, humanity… is strengthen your resolve.
Kill the last of these invaders.
I will do the rest.
I promise you that."
He paused, the air shimmering around him. His spectral eyes glowed faintly — not with fury, but with something that looked like peace.
"Magic is meant to be explored," he continued. "Not caged.
Stop banning anything born from it.
I will be watching."
A faint smile — the first true one in what felt like centuries — ghosted across his lips.
"I hope, after this, our realm… our mortal realm… will rise to new heights.
That is my one hope."
And then, without fanfare, he was gone.
No light, no sound. Just absence.
For a long moment, the world held its breath. Then — the earth itself seemed to breathe. Magic pulsed through the land like blood through a newly revived heart. Every wizard, every goblin, every centaur felt it surge into them — raw, bright, alive.
They gasped as it filled their veins, their wands, their weapons, their spirits. The world was awake again.
And then — as one — the armies roared.
The cry shook the very stones of Hogwarts, echoed through the forests and mountains, and thundered across the globe. A sound of defiance. Of fury. Of hope reborn.
And as they charged wands blazing, blades gleaming, horns sounding the demons, angels, and gods who remained realized the truth.
They could not win.
***
Herpo sat broken before he roused himself from his seated position and began to leave the manor. He still had a war to win.
As he made his way back to Europe his mind began to wander back to Morpheus's actions.
So many things made sense now. The alliances he built and he paths he forced people on they made no sense to him at first. Why make deals and oaths when he was going to force them to fight anyway?
The aftermath.
That was his reason his brother was not planning for the war, not completely at least. He saw a path the only path and tried everything to prevent it but, Herpo knew his brother.
He knew Morpheus realized there was no other way. So he planned for what would happen after the war, after he left the realm that he promised to liberate and now rejected him.
He taught the students, to be courageous in studying new magic and to not think of everything in black and white.
He had houses work together that never would, he had Herpo himself take control of the dark faction to mend ties.
And he utilized the war to show that magical beasts deserved a place at the table.
He utilized the war to show everyone some spells should be allowed in certain circumstances.
That bastard,
"Why didn't he tell me?"
Because Morpheus also knew.
Herpo would fight to take his place.