Voldemort appeared atop the cliff and stared down at the bloody carnage.
A crescent moon hung in the sky, barely shedding light upon the dark field.
Still, the lava fissures that erupted from the sunken earth, running down to meet the ocean, were bright enough for him to see all that needed to be seen.
If sight alone was not enough, then the silence drove it home.
Gusts of stormy wind howled, crashing against the rock face before rising toward the sky and blasting past Voldemort's head.
Meanwhile, the bloody protrusion in the middle of his chest pulsated like a dying heartbeat with a low hum.
Then there was a hiss, coming from the ocean, where lava met water, shrouding the entire bloody beach in thick steam.
When the thin moonlight fell upon that fog, it flashed blue and red.
Other than that, Voldemort couldn't hear even a whimper.
Gone.
Everything was gone.
All his Death Eaters and the Magical Creatures he had rallied to his cause were gone.
Voldemort looked over his shoulder and saw the head of Priestess Momo, her eyes wide open, half in horror, half in delirium.
His gaze returned to the field where his followers lay, slaughtered by the Pillars.
In that moment, Voldemort felt… nothing.
The people and creatures who had died had meant nothing to him.
If there were a word he would have chosen to justify their presence in his life, it was: convenience.
The army Voldemort had raised single-handedly, using his power and status, would have made it convenient for him to destroy Dumbledore and his pretentious Hogwarts camaraderie.
It would have made it convenient for him to stabilize his rule once he had won the War against both the Order of the Black Phoenix and the Dark Alliance.
More than anything, having such a vast army loyal to his cause would have made it convenient for him to stand against the Order of the Immortal Lotus, while simultaneously bringing the Timeline to his side.
Yes.
Voldemort knew of the Sevenfold Path of the Multiverse.
Without it, how could he have grasped the significance of a War between the Pillars and Mirrors?
But now, in the brief time he had spent trapped with cockroaches, his army was gone; his convenience was gone.
Voldemort took his gaze off the field that reeked of slaughter and looked down at himself.
He could feel it.
The urge to ravage a woman — the Lust — was still within him.
But by not letting himself fight against it, while keeping a clear mind, Voldemort had successfully made a part of this power his own.
The low hum coming from the bloody protrusion — the source of all his Blood Magic — was direct proof of it.
With every pulse, with every hum, Voldemort felt as though he were drinking a vial of Invigoration Potion, restoring not only his stamina, but also his magic.
Tiredness… felt obsolete.
Still, Voldemort found himself facing two major caveats.
His gaze traveled down from the bloody protrusion and landed on another protrusion lower on his body.
The portion of this grand power that he had claimed for himself was actually minuscule compared to the part he had failed to tame.
Presently, that untamed portion still lingered in his body, forcing it to react against his will.
That was… undesirable and inconvenient.
Then there was the second caveat, a touch more serious than the first.
Voldemort lifted his hand and stared at his Wand, which was covered in cracks.
That night, when he had successfully resurrected with the Yellow Warlock's help, he had become vastly more powerful than he had imagined himself becoming over these last few years.
But the Wand…
The Wand was failing him.
It couldn't channel the vast power he held within himself.
And Voldemort knew that over time, especially now that he had conquered a part of that outsider's power, it would only get worse.
What would be the point of having all the power in the world if he couldn't unleash it when he needed it most?
"Inconvenience…" Voldemort mumbled to himself, putting his cracked Wand away. "… It surrounds me like filthy Muggles."
Suddenly, the Dark Lord jerked his head around.
There was a rustling sound.
Something came crawling out of the earth.
Voldemort's slitted pupils dilated as he sensed the familiar connection. "Nagini!"
The snake came slithering toward him, hissing. There was something wrong with her, though. She was slow — not because she was wounded, but because of her comically enlarged belly, as if…
As she closed in on Voldemort, Nagini unhinged her jaw and pushed out the contents of her swollen stomach.
Covered in slime and blood, it was none other than Bellatrix!
Voldemort watched in shock as the Witch coughed violently, gasping for breath.
Then, she looked up and met his gaze. "My… My Lord…" Bellatrix whimpered, terror still lacing her voice. "They… They killed everyone… everyone…"
Voldemort narrowed his eyes.
If the Pillars had slaughtered every single soldier and creature of his army, showing mercy to neither man nor beast, then how had Bellatrix survived?!
Had they left her alive deliberately, setting a trap for him?
No…
They had already trapped him once, Voldemort remembered.
If it hadn't been for the outsiders turning on each other, who knew how much longer he would have remained so?
Moreover, it had become obvious that neither the Pillars nor the Order of the Immortal Lotus had planned to let him, Dumbledore, Ekrizdis, or the Yellow Warlock leave that Bounded Field alive.
So, Bellatrix surviving the slaughter could not be a trap, but a stroke of pure, dumb luck.
Voldemort looked away from the woman, and his eyes landed on Nagini.
The serpent hissed back.
Voldemort grinned.
Yes.
It was inconvenient that he didn't have an army anymore.
But if he really thought about it, it was for the best.
Because with no one left to command, Voldemort found himself… freer and stronger.
And he would use every single strand of that freedom and strength to exact his revenge.
For now, though, he had to prevent this next inconvenience from becoming a significant burden.
Voldemort looked back down at the Witch.
"Are you ready to serve me, Bellatrix?" he hissed.
The slime- and blood-covered Witch scrambled to her feet, trembling with terror and a sudden rush of sadistic pleasure.
"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix said, grinning with madness. "With my… everything."