Beneath the eerie purple glow of the floating grimoire, Nyarlathotep's body rapidly shrank like a punctured balloon. His distorted screams echoed through the darkness as the mysterious book devoured him completely, leaving behind only silence.
Then, strangely enough, the purple book let out something resembling a satisfied burp.
Whether it was real or merely a hallucination caused by the horrifying supernatural events of the night, Logan couldn't tell anymore. His exhausted mind had already reached its limit.
Lying in the crib, he slowly closed his eyes once more and drifted back to sleep.
…
Morning eventually arrived.
Warm sunlight filtered through the nursery curtains as Logan slowly opened his eyes. The familiar European-style bedroom remained exactly the same as before, making the events of the previous night feel almost unreal.
For a moment, he even wondered whether everything had simply been a bizarre nightmare.
Then he raised his left hand.
The instant the thought crossed his mind, the purple-covered grimoire suddenly appeared out of thin air above his palm.
Logan froze.
So it was real.
He stared blankly at the floating book for several long seconds before recognition slowly dawned on him.
Wait a minute…
Isn't this the cheat program I made for that stupid browser game?
The more he looked at it, the more certain he became. Although its appearance had changed dramatically, the core design felt unmistakably familiar. In his previous life, after getting furious at the game developers, he'd created an absurdly overpowered cheat interface capable of bypassing almost every mechanic in the game.
And now that thing had somehow followed him across worlds.
Logan didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Still, he wasn't entirely unfamiliar with stories involving reincarnation or transmigration. Since he had somehow crossed into another world carrying this "cheat," then the bizarre events from last night were probably genuine as well.
Without this strange grimoire, he likely would have died the moment Nyarlathotep appeared.
Thinking about the terrifying figure from the night before, Logan felt a chill run through him again. The name itself sounded incredibly familiar, but his memories remained hazy.
For now, he pushed those thoughts aside and focused entirely on the mysterious book.
After some consideration, Logan decided to give it a simple name.
The Magic Book.
Unfortunately, despite spending countless hours studying it over the following years, he discovered almost nothing useful.
The book refused to open no matter what he tried. It had no visible lock, no pages he could turn, and no instructions whatsoever. However, Logan did confirm several important things.
First, the grimoire could freely appear and disappear at his command, emerging directly from his left palm before vanishing again without a trace.
Second, no one except him could see it.
That ability alone greatly reduced the risk of exposure. Logan had absolutely no intention of explaining a floating magical book to anyone else, especially not while trapped inside a child's body.
As for why the book remained sealed, Logan eventually stopped worrying too much about it. Perhaps he was simply too young right now. Someday, he would uncover its secrets.
At least, that was what he hoped.
…
Several years passed peacefully.
During that time, the Anderson family gained a new member.
A little girl named Hathaway Anderson.
She was born after years of effort from Anne and Huggins and quickly became the center of attention in the household. Hathaway was two years younger than Logan and adored following her older brother everywhere.
To outsiders, the Anderson family looked perfectly ordinary and incredibly happy.
Only Logan knew how anxious he truly felt inside.
By the time he turned five years old, he still hadn't discovered the true abilities of the Magic Book. That fact frustrated him endlessly.
Fortunately, through years of observation, Logan had confirmed that this world was largely similar to the one from his previous life, though the era seemed slightly earlier technologically. More importantly, there didn't appear to be superheroes snapping half the population out of existence or aliens invading Earth every other week.
That alone was comforting.
His adoptive parents were both highly respected professors at Cambridge University, which meant Logan had grown up in an extremely privileged and intellectual environment. With the knowledge and maturity carried over from his previous life, combined with his naturally gifted mind, he excelled at nearly everything he touched.
By the time he entered primary school, Logan was already far beyond his peers academically.
He consistently ranked first in his class at the local elite school, attracting admiration from teachers and becoming surprisingly popular among the girls in his grade. His handsome appearance and calm personality made him stand out effortlessly.
Everything seemed to be proceeding according to plan.
He would grow up, achieve success, contribute to society, and live a peaceful life.
And hopefully—
Hopefully that terrifying Outer God would forget about him entirely.
Because by now, Logan had finally remembered exactly who Nyarlathotep was.
An Outer God.
One of the horrifying cosmic entities from the Cthulhu Mythos.
Unlike the other incomprehensible gods lurking beyond reality, Nyarlathotep actively enjoyed interacting with humanity. He delighted in manipulating people, corrupting civilizations, and driving mortals into despair and madness for his own amusement.
Among all the eldritch horrors, Nyarlathotep was perhaps the closest thing to a traditional devil.
And Logan had attracted its attention.
Just thinking about it made him want to cry.
Why did my life have to become this difficult?
He'd only wanted to cheat in a terrible online game. How had that somehow escalated into being targeted by a cosmic horror beyond human comprehension?
Maybe I'm simply too outstanding, Logan thought bitterly. Even the universe can't tolerate my greatness.
Still, despite the constant anxiety hanging over him, life continued peacefully for several years.
Until the day everything changed.
…
Logan was eight years old when disaster struck.
That afternoon, he returned home from school alongside his mother as usual. Hathaway had gone with Huggins earlier that day, and the house initially felt quiet and ordinary.
Then the phone rang.
Anne answered casually at first, but her expression changed almost instantly.
The color drained from her face.
"What…?"
Her voice trembled violently.
The receiver nearly slipped from her fingers as the person on the other end continued speaking. Logan suddenly felt a terrible sense of dread rising inside his chest.
Then Anne collapsed.
"Mum!"
Logan rushed forward in panic and barely managed to catch her before she hit the floor.
The phone receiver dangled beside them, and through the faint static, Logan heard fragmented words that shattered his world completely.
Car accident.
Critical condition.
Hospital.
Huggins.
Hathaway.
For several seconds, Logan's mind went blank.
He couldn't process it.
His father… and his sister…
No.
That couldn't be real.
In this life, the Anderson family had given him everything he never realized he wanted. Warmth. Stability. Love. A real home.
And now it was suddenly being ripped away.
An overwhelming grief exploded inside him.
Tears streamed uncontrollably down Logan's face as emotions he could no longer suppress erupted from deep within his soul.
Then something inside him snapped.
Dark black mist suddenly burst from Logan's body.
The temperature in the entire house plummeted instantly. Furniture began shaking violently as terrifying energy flooded the surroundings. The windows cracked one after another while shadows twisted unnaturally across the walls.
The black mist expanded wildly like a living creature.
A terrifying destructive force surged outward uncontrollably, threatening to swallow the entire street.
At that exact moment, somewhere else in England, an elderly wizard abruptly looked up from his desk.
Albus Dumbledore's blue eyes sharpened instantly beneath his half-moon glasses.
"What powerful dark magic…"
A flicker of shock crossed his aged face.
"No… that feels like an Obscurus."
Without hesitation, Dumbledore rose to his feet. His white robes swirled softly as he extended his senses through magic, locating the violent burst of dark energy almost immediately.
Then he Apparated.
The world twisted around him.
An instant later, Dumbledore arrived near the source of the disturbance.
But the moment he appeared, confusion replaced the urgency in his eyes.
The dark magic had vanished.
Completely.
The street before him looked ordinary and peaceful, as though nothing unusual had happened at all. Yet Dumbledore knew without question that what he sensed moments ago had been real.
That level of destructive energy could not possibly be imagined.
Frowning deeply, he raised his wand and carefully examined the surrounding area with several detection spells.
Nothing.
No trace of lingering dark magic.
No corruption.
No Obscurus.
Dumbledore slowly stroked his beard, his expression becoming increasingly thoughtful.
Then a shocking possibility surfaced in his mind.
"Can an Obscurial… control their Obscurus?"