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The once-impenetrable palace walls shattered under his immense force, with bricks and beams exploding outward in a storm of dust and debris.
The air screamed as it tore beneath his wings, shrieking under the pressure. Ian's silhouette flashed through the swirling rubble, and in an instant, he had burst free of the palace's confines, soaring into the dark, cloud-choked sky above. His vision opened wide, and Helheim's grand palace shrank beneath him, as if it were nothing more than a fragile model.
A black-and-white world unfolded before his eyes, like an ancient ink painting. The sky was dark, the ground pale, and everything lay silent and desolate.
Ian focused on adapting to his new form.
Back in the ruined palace, Merlin stood on edge, his senses and magic surging wildly. He worked furiously, layering powerful spells around himself in preparation for anything.
"Possession! This must be a premeditated possession! I should never have let him touch that cursed bird's corpse!"
The chilling thought echoed in Merlin's mind, sending shivers down his spine.
He looked up at the sky and terror filled his gaze.
"Shit!"
Merlin was ready to unleash his full power at any moment.
But his reaction was something that no young wizard could possibly notice. The boy was still soaring through the sky, reveling in the thrill of flight.
"So… this is what flying feels like?" Ian's heart surged with an indescribable excitement. Every beat of his wings felt like it was met with a response from the very air around him.
It was as if every flap of his wings was a spell in itself, magic flowing with each movement. Ian was savoring the sensation of flight, and in that moment, it felt as though even the shadows that blanketed the skies were celebrating his ascent.
The entirety of Helheim seemed to awaken.
Countless Dementors, each bearing a heavy stone tablet on their backs, raised their heads in unison. In the hollows of their skull-like faces, eerie lights flickered to life. They pressed themselves low to the ground and released a chorus of piercing, sorrowful wails.
The cries echoed like the mourning of ghosts, reverberating through every corner of Helheim. Ian circled through the storm clouds, gazing down at the land below. From this height, the Dementors appeared tiny, yet their voices carried clearly to his ears. There was something in that sound, awe, reverence, submission.
It was as if they were saluting him.
"Could it be… my transformation has inherited some kind of power from that shadow raven's body?" Ian wondered, startled. His sharp eyes could see the tremors running through the stone tablets strapped to the Dementors' backs, each one emitting a low, ominous hum. The reason was unclear.
"This feeling… It's incredible. I might just be the first Animagus to have a magical form, or, as Merlin would call it, a god-form!"
A rush of exhilaration filled Ian's chest. He could feel his body had completely adapted to the rhythm of flight, and with every movement, he grew more skilled. Suddenly, an overwhelming instinct rose within him, and the young wizard could not hold back.
He let out a sharp, chilling cry.
"Cawwwk!"
The sound exploded like thunder, reverberating through the heavens, spreading rapidly in all directions. In an instant, it blanketed all of Helheim. Even the roaring winds seemed to freeze in the wake of that piercing screech.
Ripples spread through the black-and-white world, waves of distortion carrying Ian's cry outward, echoing across every realm connected to the land of the dead. It felt as if every dimension tied to this underworld trembled at the same moment.
In the Twilight Zone.
Pandero was still teaching Ariana the art of swordsmanship.
Both of them froze as the sound reached their ears, a cry that resounded through every corner of the Netherworld.
"Ian's… phoenix?" Ariana murmured, stunned.
Her sharp ears twitched as she glanced around, searching for the source of the sound, but found nothing.
"This day has come… much sooner than I thought," Pandero whispered, lifting his gaze. His eyes seemed to pierce through to another plane of existence, his expression shifting, touched by something deep and complex.
"What day? What do you mean?" Ariana's curiosity was piqued. She turned to the boy beside her, unable to hold back her question after catching his mutter.
Pandero glanced at her.
"It's not Ian's phoenix."
He was only answering Ariana's first question.
And at that moment--
"It's the voice of the King."
Morgan had appeared in the little town without anyone noticing. Her sudden arrival made Pandero raise an eyebrow, though his expression betrayed no tension.
"Lady Morgan."
Ariana greeted her politely, but her curiosity quickly won out. "Then why does the King's voice sound just like Ian's phoenix, always going kekekekeke?"
She truly found it strange, beyond her understanding.
"Hahaha."
Morgan burst into laughter at her words. "Silly girl. It's not that the King is like Ian's bird, it's that Ian's bird is like the King. That touches on a secret known to very few."
She cast a meaningful glance at Pandero. Ian's black phoenix had come from Pandero, yet Pandero merely turned his head aside as though he had heard nothing.
"It was a bargain," He corrected Morgan's choice of words.
"What kind of bargain?" Ariana blinked curiously.
Pandero gave no direct answer. Instead, he murmured, "That sound came from the King. He was proclaiming to the worlds under His dominion that He has reclaimed His authority and power."
He paused for a moment.
"And more besides," he added softly.
"To turn one's own past into one's Animagus… thus gaining not only the present but also the future. Tsk, tsk. A triple victory, this truly is…" Morgan's words cut off mid-sentence. Pandero sighed at her remark, while Ariana's wide, innocent eyes were full of nothing but confusion.
…
Twilight Zone.
At the mouth of Mount Doom.
"Mother, what was that sound just now?"
Helena Ravenclaw turned curiously to her mother.
"It was a summons meant for us," Rowena Ravenclaw replied without lifting her head. Under her control, the volcano raged like a natural forge, shaping something destined to be extraordinary within its molten heart.
"We must hurry," she murmured, eyes fixed on the faint silhouette of a diadem glowing in the flames.
"I only hope… it's not too late."
The whisper was so soft that even Helena did not hear it.
…
Twilight Zone.
At the edge of the Black Sea.
The waters of the Black Sea churned like thick, inky liquid, rising and falling in eerie silence. Now and then a ripple spreads, only to vanish just as quickly, leaving the surface still once more. Countless broken phantoms drifted upon the waves, As though forgotten souls were floating endlessly within.
At the dead center of this silent sea stood a mysterious figure shrouded in a black cloak. His form melded seamlessly with the surrounding darkness, as though he were part of the Black Sea itself. Beneath the hood, his face was hidden; only a pair of pitch-black eyes could be seen, as deep and bottomless as an abyss.
He lifted his head slightly.
His gaze pierced the layers of gray mist, reaching into the distance. Reflected in his eyes, Was the image of a raven in flight.
"It has appeared…"
You-Know-Who's voice was hoarse and icy, as if echoing up from the depths of Hell. It carried no trace of emotion. His long, pale hands gently stroked the strange creature cradled in his arms, a grotesque snot-worm with a human face, its skin pallid and clammy, its features twisted in eternal agony.
The snot-worm squirmed faintly in his grasp, letting out a thin, hissing sīīī sound, as though responding to his whispers. Voldemort's fingertips trailed lightly across the creature's mouth.
In the next instant, the snot-worm's voice was stolen away.
"All things have their appointed end. Why rush toward it? That bird does not realize… every action it takes is weaving for itself… its own twilight."
The voice of the mysterious, black-robed figure was deep and distant, carrying the weight of eternity.
The black tide flowed.
The Black Sea churned.
Since time immemorial, He had sat upon this throne, able to see the end of all life.
(End of Chapter)