Nicolas Flamel.
The most famous alchemist in the wizarding world.
He had created the Philosopher's Stone, a masterpiece considered the pinnacle of alchemy, and through it brewed the Elixir of Life, allowing himself to live for nearly seven hundred years.
However, it was worth noting—
This form of immortality was not perfect.
While the Elixir of Life could extend one's lifespan, it could not stop the decay of the body.
As time passed, Nicolas's body grew increasingly fragile.
To the point where even taking a single step could break his bones.
Dawn had recognized him precisely because of that unnaturally thin body and those frail limbs that no ordinary person could possess.
The old man looked at Dawn in surprise but did not conceal his identity. Instead, he sighed softly.
"I never expected that, aside from a few old friends, there would still be someone who recognizes me.
Young man, may I know your name?"
"William Carter," Dawn replied without hesitation, borrowing the name of the chubby boy.
Unaware that the bracelet had anything to do with the old man, he spoke respectfully and asked his question.
"Mr. Flamel, why are you here?"
"Why am I here? Ha. What an interesting question." The old man chuckled, his fragile throat trembling in the wind.
"Of course it's because, just like you, I've died."
He spoke of death with complete calmness.
But Dawn slowly frowned.
Dead?
Well, that wasn't entirely surprising. After all, he had entered through the Veil of Death before encountering Nicolas.
Still...
Looking at the surroundings, the beautiful scenery, the warmth of sunlight on his skin— This place did not feel like the world of the dead.
And with the power of a phoenix within him, he should not have died so easily.
"Where exactly is this?" Dawn asked.
"The space between life and death," Nicolas replied without hiding anything. "A place known as the liminal illusion."
The liminal illusion.
Dawn frowned slightly at the name and closed his eyes halfway, searching through his memories.
He knew of this place.
In the original story, Harry had willingly allowed himself to be struck by the Killing Curse in order to deal with the fragment of Voldemort's soul within him.
Afterward, he had arrived in this in-between realm.
There, he had met the deceased Dumbledore, seen the shattered soul of Voldemort, and said his final farewell.
So entering through the Veil of Death leads here?
Dawn fell into thought. But what surprised him most was how coincidental this was.
To encounter Nicolas here— Had he died recently?
For once, Dawn actually considered whether asking that question would be rude.
At that moment, Nicolas suddenly spoke again. "Young man, would you like to travel together?"
"Travel together? To where?" Dawn raised an eyebrow, snapping out of his thoughts.
"To the world of the dead."
Flamel pointed ahead. "Beyond that door, we can pass into another world and begin a new journey."
A door?
Dawn paused and followed the direction of his finger. But all he saw was sunlight, wind, and empty space.
His eyes narrowed.
Where was this door? Why couldn't he see it?
After a moment of confusion, Dawn quickly understood: He was not truly dead.
It was only natural that he could not see the door leading to the world of the dead.
The world was fair in that sense.
If you gained something, you would lose something. Just like how he had gained immortality—And lost death.
The thought almost felt like something that could infuriate Voldemort to death.
Strangely, this realization calmed him.
"Sorry," Dawn said directly. "I have no intention of leaving just yet."
Then suddenly— He remembered his actual purpose. He had come here to bring back his future self.
Dawn quickly scanned his surroundings.
But the version of himself he had been able to see before... Had vanished.
After the abrupt change in scenery, it was nowhere in sight. Where did his future self go?
Dawn felt a brief moment of confusion.
And as he shifted his attention away from Nicolas, he noticed something else.
The bone-deep cold that had been clinging to him... Had disappeared.
Instead of growing weaker, his body was gradually recovering. That made sense. This liminal illusion was neither life nor death.
It belonged to neither side.
It was natural that the chill of death could not be felt here.
Still— In the original story, when Harry entered this place, he hadn't felt that cold either.
So why had Dawn experienced it? Was it because of the Veil?
The surroundings gradually fell silent.
Nicolas looked at Dawn, who seemed lost in thought, and assumed he was resisting death.
He sighed softly and spoke in a gentle tone.
"Mr. Carter, since you've already come here, you must take this step eventually.
Besides, death is a great adventure. It is an unknown journey, something worth looking forward to."
He raised his voice slightly, as if trying to encourage him.
But Dawn responded instinctively.
"Sorry. I don't agree."
Only after speaking did he snap out of his thoughts.
Nicolas looked slightly disappointed but did not press further. "I see. It seems we are not fated to travel together."
He turned his gaze toward the distant, unseen door and murmured softly.
"To be honest… I've been looking forward to this day for a long time."
It sounded like he wanted to share something.
"Think about it. Throughout history, there have been countless brilliant wizards.
After death, what kind of sparks will they create in another world? What kind of miracles will they achieve?"
His eyes grew brighter.
"I can't wait to see it."
But Dawn immediately cut him off.
"Sorry, Mr. Flamel. But hearing that from a wizard who has lived nearly seven hundred years by drinking the Elixir of Life doesn't sound very convincing."
Nicolas froze for a moment.
Then suddenly burst into laughter.
"Mr. Carter, you truly hold nothing back...But you're right.
I only reached this state of acceptance after living long enough. I'm far inferior to another young man."
He seemed to be thinking of an old friend who had forced him to keep working even in his final days.
Dawn stepped forward, hands tucked into his sleeves, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"Mr. Flamel, have you ever considered a worse possibility?"
"A worse possibility?"
"Yes." Dawn tilted his head slightly. "For example... can you still use magic?"
"I cannot."
Flamel tried briefly, then answered calmly.
As expected.
Dawn narrowed his eyes.
He had long suspected that magic was something born from both body and soul.
A dead wizard, possessing only a soul, should not be able to use magic. Now it was confirmed.
Feeling the magic still flowing within his own body, Dawn continued.
"Mr. Flamel, throughout history, the number of Muggles has always far exceeded that of wizards. The same applies to the dead."
"And since wizards cannot use magic after death..."
He paused slightly. "Perhaps the world of the dead is already ruled by Muggles."
That was his conclusion.
But Nicolas's expression did not change.
He remained calm. "Is that so? So that's how you see it. But even so, it doesn't matter."
He smiled faintly.
"To be honest, I am quite familiar with the Muggle world.
If we cannot use magic, then we are no different from Muggles.
In that case, living a life in Muggle society—one completely different from that of a wizard—wouldn't that also be a great adventure?"
After a pause, he winked.
"Young man, death is a mystery. And its answer is a reward given only to the brave."
"Are you calling me a coward?" Dawn met his gaze. "Because I called you afraid of death?"
"Perhaps."
Flamel replied without changing his expression. "To be honest, quite a few people have said I'm a rather petty old man."
Dawn let out a small laugh.
Interesting.
He said nothing more. Instead, he looked toward that invisible door and began thinking about death.
In truth—There had always been two perspectives on death in the wizarding world.
One believed that death was a great adventure, that the dead journeyed to another world, and thus had no fear of it.
People like Dumbledore... And now Nicolas Flamel.
The other believed that after death, one would fall into eternal nothingness, losing all consciousness.
Those who held this belief feared death and sought to escape it at all costs.
The most famous example of this was Tom Riddle.
As for Dawn— He stood somewhere between the two.
After understanding collective consciousness and natural magic, he had begun to lean toward believing that another world existed after death.
Because from the perspective of collective consciousness, myths and beliefs across different cultures all contained similar ideas.
Even in modern times, where science had weakened belief in an afterlife—
That portion of collective consciousness was still not strong enough to override the vast accumulation from earlier ages.
And even now, belief in an afterlife remained widespread.
So Dawn believed such a world existed.
But even so— That did not stop him from rejecting death and pursuing immortality.
Because in his view, what awaited after death...
Was still unknown.
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