The Hogwarts Kitchen.
Pip was still shaken. The scene of Nios provoking Professor Snape had scared him so much that he didn't have time to think; almost instinctively, he grabbed Nios and Azazel, and with a snap of his fingers, Apparated them here.
The kitchen was brightly lit, and the four long tables, connected to the Great Hall, were piled with the messy aftermath of dinner.
Dozens of House-elves, like precise little cogs, moved silently and efficiently among them, clearing away leftovers, the air still lingering with the scent of food and the fresh aroma of cleaning magic.
Nios surveyed this huge, warm, and busy "heart of the Castle," and a thought suddenly became clear: with the core members mostly gathered, they urgently needed a secret base of their own, an absolutely hidden and undisturbed meeting place.
No time to lose; better to sort it out now than flounder later.
"Pip," Nios turned to the still-shaken House-elf beside him, "Does Hogwarts have any… corners that ordinary little Wizards don't know about?"
"Preferably somewhere hidden enough that even ghosts and Filch wouldn't bother going?"
Pip's bony fingers clutched the edge of his short robe.
He knew a place, the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.
The House-elves all knew it; it was part of Hogwarts's magic, ancient and mysterious.
Out of reverence for the Castle, they never disturbed that room except to hide things, and they never even cleaned it.
Their predecessors had done the same. But no little Wizard had ever actively inquired about it…
On one side was a century-long tradition of silence, and on the other, the request of this Mr. Chaos.
Pip hesitated for less than three seconds.
A House-elf's duty is to fulfill the Wizard's needs, not to cling to tradition!
"Mr. Chaos," Pip's voice held a subtle tremor, but it was firm, "Pip knows a place."
The corner of Nios's mouth, hidden by his eye patch, curved into a gentle arc: "Oh? Would you mind leading the way?"
Pip nodded vigorously, extending his hand again.
Pop!
The air crackled, and the three instantly vanished from the warm light and bustle of the kitchen, reappearing in a spacious, cold stone corridor on the eighth floor.
The corridor was so quiet you could hear dust settling.
The only striking feature was the huge magical tapestry on the opposite wall: a group of Trolls in ridiculous ballet tutus, wielding giant clubs and attacking a disheveled Wizard in the center.
Nios felt this corridor was too empty, almost deliberately so.
"Mr. Chaos," Pip pointed to the bare stone wall opposite the tapestry, "It's here."
Nios focused his "gaze."
In the vision beneath his eye patch, the outline of a huge double door appeared on the stone wall's surface, entwined with dizzyingly intricate black magic patterns, subtle energy silently flowing within them.
"How do I open it?" Nios asked.
"You need to… walk back and forth three times in front of this wall," Pip explained, "and… concentrate, thinking of the kind of room you need."
Alright, the room problem was solved, but other issues arose.
Nios had no Soul.
Strictly speaking, he was a special ghost.
After ordinary people die, their Souls are collected by the "Soul Sea," and their residual memories and emotions form ghosts.
Ghosts can voluntarily enter the Soul Sea, but the outcome is to be torn apart and assimilated.
Stronger ghosts, although also torn apart in this process, can maintain their self-awareness, though not for long.
But it's enough for them to experience the lives and emotions of others.
Of course, ghosts can also choose to remain in the real world, but the fading emotions will eventually force them to voluntarily go to the 'Soul Sea.'
As a transmigrator from a higher-dimensional world, Nios's Soul was a "great tonic" for the Soul Sea.
During his transmigration, his Soul was assimilated by the Soul Sea, but his residual higher-dimensional memories and emotions would pollute this world's 'Soul Sea.'
To protect itself, the 'Soul Sea,' which had no self-will, actually actively expelled him into the real world…
He had no Soul core for the Room of Requirement to "read."
Nios pondered for a moment, then decisively pulled out Azazel's demon book.
Azazel, seeing this, rolled his eyes: "Hmph! If it weren't for my demon book as an anchor point, I wonder how you'd 'communicate' with this broken wall!"
As a conglomerate of the Soul Sea's emotional residue, Azazel himself also had no Soul.
The demon book Nios created was the foundation of his existence, the anchor point of his personality, and could also be considered his Soul.
This was also the fundamental reason he feared Nios throwing it into the Soul Sea; although it couldn't kill him, it would erase his personality.
Nios glanced at the bewildered Pip nearby and gestured with his chin towards Azazel.
Azazel sighed resignedly and walked over, putting an arm around Pip's small, thin shoulders.
Before the other could react, he opened his mouth and sprayed a thick pink mist over him!
Pip's expression instantly froze, his eyes becoming empty and vacant.
Azazel casually rolled up the 'Troll with a Club' tapestry nearby, muttering distastefully as he rolled: "This hypnotic smoke of mine, day after day, it's either dealing with greasy old men or hypnotizing House-elves! If any artist dared to draw this, I'd stab that artist twice, I swear!"
Ignoring Azazel's complaints, Nios took a deep breath.
He raised his palm, and a faint blue light emanated from it; this was his first attempt to let a part of his "essence" detach from this carefully crafted body.
An icy, bone-chilling sense of nothingness instantly seized him, and at the same time, his heart pounded wildly inside his body, like a drum, and his blood vessels felt as if they would burst!
Time was short! If he delayed any longer, this body might just die on the spot!
His blue-glowing hand tightly clutched the demon book, as if grasping the only lifeline.
Nios walked back and forth three times in front of the bare stone wall with solemnity.
Buzz—
The stone wall's surface rippled like water, and a huge double door, inlaid with intricate black magic patterns, silently appeared, solemn and mysterious.
Nios immediately retracted his blue-glowing hand; his heart's frantic pounding eased slightly, but the cold sensation of detachment still left him with lingering fear.
He placed his hands on each of the heavy door panels, pushing hard.
Creak!
Dazzling golden light, like a solid torrent, suddenly gushed from the door crack, almost illuminating the entire dim corridor!
As the light faded, the sight inside the door made Nios and Azazel simultaneously hold their breath.
An unimaginably vast space unfolded before their eyes.
Huge golden pillars, stretching endlessly, supported a high, distant dome.
On the walls and pillars, ancient and ornate hymns and blessings were densely carved, each word shimmering with golden light.
A wide, blood-red carpet stretched straight from the doorway, leading to a majestic, stepped pyramid base in the center of the space.
On either side of the red carpet stood two rows of guards, clad in heavy golden armor and holding long spears!
They were nearly three meters tall, and each guard's adornments varied slightly, but their right shoulder plates were all carved with golden double-headed eagles, and the scarlet plumes on their helmets and their cloaks blazed like fire, forming an intensely oppressive visual impact with the dazzling golden armor.
They were silent as statues, yet exuded a suffocating majesty.
At the end of the red carpet, a straight, steep staircase led to the highest point of the pyramid.
There, a massive, cold throne, cast from pure gold, rested silently.
Behind the throne were also things that looked like cables, hidden by the base, their other end unknown…
The throne emanated a silent summons under an invisible light, as if awaiting its "master."
Nios stepped into this magnificent hall.
Zzzzt—
White electric arcs instantly coursed around him!
The eye patch on his face vanished, his hair grew visibly, becoming smooth and lustrous, and his Wizard's robe twisted and transformed into a solemn, ancient Roman-style white toga!
Even his pale skin took on a healthy, wheat-colored glow.
He calmly pulled out the fake wand from his embrace; the wand twisted and deformed in his hand, transforming into a golden laurel wreath, symbolizing supreme glory.
He raised his hand and placed the laurel wreath steadily on his head.
Boom!
The golden-armored guards on both sides moved in perfect unison, their heavy armor rubbing with a metallic roar, as they knelt on one knee, their spears striking the ground, as if welcoming a returning monarch!
"No! Nios!" Azazel, watching from the doorway, cried tears of despair, extending his short little arms and screaming, "Don't go to that cursed place! That toilet will drain you dry! That thing is a bottomless pit! Come back! Nios!"
Hearing this, Nios stopped at the foot of the stairs and slowly turned his head.
He wore an almost sacred, compassionate smile on his face, his voice calm and firm:
"For humanity."
Azazel froze.
The next second, an unnamed surge of anger rushed to his head!
He burst forth with strength disproportionate to his size, darting into the hall like lightning, his two small paws gripping the back collar of Nios's luxurious toga!
"You get out!!! Now!!!"
Azazel used all his might, dragging and pulling, forcibly dragging Nios out of that shimmering golden room!
Bang!!!
The door was slammed shut by Azazel, cutting off that dazzling golden splendor.
Azazel hovered in mid-air, still clutching Nios's collar and shaking him furiously, spittle almost spraying onto his face:
"Are you out of your mind?! Huh?! What do you want to do with this unlucky place?! What?! Do you want to do some 'Great Crusade' like others?! Go reclaim lost territory with a bunch of shiny golden cans?! Wake up! You don't even have money to buy cans!!"
Nios transformed his toga back into the Hogwarts uniform, shrunk his hair back, and put his eye patch back on, explaining with a smile:
"Oh… well… the atmosphere was built up, wasn't it… It would be rude to the 'room' not to go sit down…"
His wheat-colored skin also quickly reverted to its original pale white.