It's not just the loss of the spoils.
He also lost all of his belongings from these years, as well as... the evidence that proved he was different from others, all of which disappeared, making Riddle feel pain.
It was the fear and guilt deep in his heart that he was most unwilling to face. He saw his younger self, thin, lonely, with eyes filled with the thirst for power and recognition.
"Enough! I said enough!"
He wasn't sure if he was yelling at Dumbledore or the Silent Fog Nightmare that caused him to relive these memories, but the hysterical sound made no change.
Dumbledore remained standing there, looking at Riddle coldly—those deep blue eyes seemed to see through his soul, seeing the darkest parts deep inside him.
"You are a wizard, Tom." Dumbledore's voice was particularly clear amid the crackling flames, "But that does not mean you can do whatever you please."
"Magic is not a tool to harm others." Hearing those unforgettable words again, Riddle's face grew increasingly grim. He saw his younger self kneeling on the ground, hands tightly clutching the carpet, knuckles white. That feeling of powerlessness, of being seen through, was as vivid as yesterday, even after so many years.
"Avada Kedavra!"
As if trying to expel his fear, his past, Riddle raised his hand, casting Avada Kedavra, a green light flashing, and he saw the surroundings beginning to distort.
Dumbledore fell at his feet.
"That's it! Yes! That's it!"
Riddle gradually lost his sanity amidst the Silent Fog Nightmare, his thoughts in chaos.
And at this moment.
"Why is it that every time I see you, you're killing someone, destined to be noseless Tom." A voice of lament suddenly sounded from behind, and the next moment, the "dead" Dumbledore reopened his eyes.
"This is the miracle of magic."
The same voice sounded again, untimely.
Perhaps the scene was incorrect.
But the voice and words made Riddle involuntarily think of another afternoon, of that "resurrected" cat, and of why he dared not face Ian.
"Ian Prince."
Riddle turned around with difficulty.
As expected.
The humiliation that even Voldemort would choose to forget, the profound fear buried deep in his heart, was brought out by the Silent Fog Nightmare as if brewed into its feast.
...
Riddle suffered in the world of memories.
In the real world.
Facing the manifestation of the Solar Divine Power.
The little wizard also felt somewhat uncomfortable.
"Damn! This is a real sun!" Ian instinctively raised his hand to shield his eyes, yet could still feel the scorching light. In the beam of light, a majestic figure loomed.
He was clad in golden war armor, holding a dazzling longbow, exuding brilliant golden radiance all around, even though his face was unclear, his unparalleled power and majesty were palpable.
His figure cast a long shadow, but the shadow was not dark; it was a pale gold, as if even his shadow carried the warmth of the sun.
"My daughter... do you mean to say you weren't crazy enough before?" A voice came from the golden figure, deep and powerful, resembling rolling thunder echoing between heaven and earth, each syllable wrapped in endless power, carrying soul-piercing majesty, yet also like burning flames.
Yet these flames clearly held a touch of helplessness.
"Let's not talk about that, quickly, Father, give this avatar a bit of power, no, give me some fatherly love, I want to challenge the evil wizard harming the human world with my teammates!"
The Fierce Goddess, seeing her backing arrive, perked up, charging directly into the blazing sun, grabbing the Sun God's hand, attempting to "borrow" some power from him.
"Your believer's body cannot bear my divine power." However, the Sun God chose to refuse to be a power source, his gaze turning to the depths of the Divine Hall.
Under those eyes like two scorching suns, everything hidden in the shadows was laid bare, yet his eyes did not reflect Helbo's figure.
The Sun God paid no mind to this.
"Moreover, I think you should not interfere with the flow of history." As he spoke, the Sun God glanced at the unconscious Riddle, and at Ian, who was forced to direct the Patronus Ariana to deal with the Silent Fog Nightmare due to his large-scale attack to besiege the Fierce Goddess, which left the surroundings covered in Silent Fog Nightmare.
"A Heroic Spirit?"
His voice was slightly surprised.
His gaze fixed on Ariana, who was continuously swinging her sword.
"That's a Patronus summoned by my teammate; I saw something amiss at a glance, turns out it's a Heroic Spirit, seems like his magic is something too."
The Fierce Goddess perhaps also didn't fully understand Ian.
As for exactly how much she knew.
Only she herself probably knew.
"He should have a Hall of Heroic Spirits of his own."
The Sun God spoke softly.
Not waiting for the stupefied Fierce Goddess to respond.
"Damn it! Can't these things be killed?!" The only means Ian had to affect the Silent Fog Nightmare was the Patronus Charm summoned Ariana.
He also tried using other spells, but these spells could not reach the Silent Fog Nightmare, as if the Silent Fog Nightmare was not in the same dimension and space as him.
Very bizarre creatures.