Department of Mysteries—Official Record: Crusade Against the Deep Realm King
15:01:00 — The Director of the Department of Mysteries, together with [Name Redacted], leads the strike team into the deepest part of Avalon and makes formal contact with the Deep Realm King.
15:02:04 — The Deep Realm King completes its integration with Avalon. The pathway to the Sea of Embers, the second layer of the Deep Realm, opens. The Deep Realm begins to ascend.
15:02:24 — Unspeakable Tuls Barnett, confirmed killed in action. The Deep Realm pathway is destroyed.
15:03:13 — The Director and [Name Redacted] together severely wound the Deep Realm King.
15:03:17 — The Deep Realm King completes regeneration.
15:04:12 — Unspeakable Keto Alfred, confirmed killed in action. The passage between Avalon and the real world is breached.
15:04:35 — Alchemical ritual [Redacted] overloads, successfully launching massive material into Avalon.
15:05:00 — Director severely wounded. Unspeakable Hudson Gregg, confirmed killed in action. The Deep Realm King is severely wounded again.
15:05:20 — The Deep Realm King regenerates. Alchemical ritual [Redacted] is utterly destroyed.
15:05:32 — The Department of Mysteries' emergency protocol is activated. The Pendulum of Reversal is engaged, the ritual [Redacted] is restored, and the Deep Realm King is weakened once more.
15:05:50 — [Name Redacted] shatters the Deep Realm King's core for the third time. The Star Hall's Star Annihilation Matrix is activated, obliterating the majority of the Deep Realm King's remains.
15:06:20 — The Deep Realm King and Avalon are forcibly separated. The core is contained. The remnant, Aldred Cassius Locke, escapes with a fragment of the Deep Realm King.
15:07:00 — [Name Redacted] retrieves Avalon's control core from the Deep Realm King's remains. The crusade concludes.
In the underground infirmary of the Department of Mysteries, the so-called victors looked anything but triumphant.
Aiden lay on a cot, his dragon horn and one wing each broken on one side, vision doubled, and head throbbing—likely a concussion. The other Unspeakables were battered and bloodied; the Director's limbs looked like shriveled sticks of jerky, and it had been Aiden who had carried him back.
The mood was heavy, the air thick with pain and exhaustion. The Director, ever the optimist, forced a smile and tried to rally the survivors:
"Chin up, everyone. At least we're alive. As long as we live, there's a tomorrow—and we can remember those who fell today."
Aiden ignored him, focusing on the slow, agonizing process of regrowing his broken parts after downing a healing potion. The stumps of his wing and horn prickled with the sensation of ants crawling and needles stabbing—painful and maddeningly itchy. He reached to scratch more than once, but managed to restrain himself.
Trying to distract himself, Aiden turned to the Director. "What about Aldred? Did he get away?"
"We've already notified the higher-ups and the Muggle government. They'll hunt him down. He shouldn't get far," the Director replied, trying to scratch his face—only to remember he had no usable limbs.
"Could you scratch this itch for me? Please?" the Director asked, looking at Aiden with pleading eyes.
Aiden pretended not to hear and rolled over, going to sleep.
The next morning, Aiden woke to find his wing and horn fully regrown. He stretched, feeling a rare sense of relief—until he sensed a resentful gaze from his left.
The Director, still lying in bed, was recovering slowly—perhaps a side effect of age.
"Hey, hey, don't go spreading rumors about me out there," the Director grumbled, for once looking genuinely vulnerable.
Aiden let him be, choosing not to tease, and left the ward.
No sooner had he stepped into the corridor than he felt another, even more intense glare.
He froze. He knew that feeling.
"My dear roommate, congratulations on your recovery~" The words sounded sweet, but there was no warmth in them.
"Ah… Oliver, you're done with your work?" Aiden flashed his brightest, most innocent smile, hoping to defuse the situation.
"Not even close. The goblin fallout is enormous. The Ministry's going to question us soon, and you're coming with me," Oliver said, his eyes sharp as daggers.
"Of course, of course. We're partners in life and death now," Aiden replied quickly.
"Oh, life and death partners… Funny, I seem to recall someone not giving me that chance," Oliver shot back, his gaze cutting sideways. Aiden instantly straightened up.
"Enough joking. Come on. The higher-ups will be here any minute," Oliver said, tilting his head for Aiden to follow.
They crossed the circular hall and arrived at the Director's office.
Moments later, the door was kicked open and Cornelius Fudge stormed in, his face red with self-importance.
"Hmph! Your Department of Mysteries is finished! You dared to bypass the Ministry? I'll see you all in Azkaban!" Fudge declared, flopping onto the sofa as if he owned the place.
Behind him trailed several Aurors, including a long-suffering Kingsley, who was already rolling his eyes.
Aiden shot Kingsley a look: Didn't you tell him about the clause?
Kingsley's look said it all: I told him. He didn't listen.
Fudge, growing impatient, barked, "Where's your Director? Why isn't he here? Are you Unspeakables so obsessed with research you've lost your minds? Not even a cup of tea for your Minister?"
Finally, Fudge noticed the two young men he'd mistaken for staff. Then his eyes widened as he recognized Aiden's heterochromatic gaze—the same eyes that haunted his nightmares.
"Aiden Prewett, what are you doing here?" Fudge sputtered.
"Who knows? Maybe dealing with someone whose brain's been licked by a troll," Oliver answered for him.
"And who are you? Just a clerk—how dare you speak to me that way?" Fudge snapped.
"Go ahead and fire me, Minister," Oliver replied, utterly unfazed.
"I will! Kingsley, arrest him and throw him in Azkaban!" Fudge barked.
Kingsley replied calmly, as if speaking to a child, "Minister, we have no authority to interfere with the Department of Mysteries' operations."
"What? Are you saying I have no right to deal with my own departments?" Fudge blustered.
"No, sir. According to the hidden clause in the Magical Decree, the Department of Mysteries operates independently and is protected by law, not subject to any outside interference," Kingsley recited, quoting the clause he'd recently discovered.
Fudge's face twisted in disbelief. "How can this be? A department under my rule, out of control?"
But then his eyes narrowed with cunning. "Well, but the Department's funding is still under our control, isn't it?"
"Yes, Minister," Kingsley replied dutifully.
"Good. Kingsley, make this my top priority—cut… no, completely stop the Department of Mysteries' funding," Fudge ordered, shooting a smug glance at Aiden as he left, flicking his suit jacket dramatically.
Oliver's hand tightened on his wand, but Aiden stopped him with a gentle touch.
"Hmph. Now you know what happens when you disobey orders," Fudge called over his shoulder as he swept out, Aurors in tow.
As soon as the door closed, the tension in the office evaporated. Aiden and Oliver exchanged a look, then high-fived, grinning in exhausted relief.
The Crusade was over, but the real battles—political and personal—were only just beginning.
[Chapter Complete]
***
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