The chamber of the Leviathan was silent except for the pulse of its core. No Inner Circle. No whispers of doubt. Only Eric Dillan, and the hum of the machine he had claimed as his own.
He stood at the center dais, hands resting on the carved sockets of the throne, Nemesis strapped tight to his arm. His cloak brushed the ground as he breathed in the atmosphere—alive with currents of magic, like standing at the heart of a storm.
Above him, the Leviathan's mirrored satellites spun in a slow, deliberate orbit. Each reflected beams of power that crisscrossed the chamber, converging into a lattice of shifting geometry. It was not random. It was a map.
And tonight, he would redraw it.
---
Phase Three Activation
"Initialization," Eric whispered.
The Leviathan answered with a bass hum that resonated in his bones. Symbols cascaded across the mirrored surfaces—snippets of spellcode interlaced with runes older than any wizarding nation. He fed it equations with a thought, his blood anchoring the flow.
The lattice expanded. What once mapped Hogwarts and Britain now stretched outward—Europe, Asia, the Americas. Lines of ley converged like arteries, glowing across the globe.
Eric smiled faintly. "Phase Three begins."
---
The First Test: Prague
He reached into the Code and selected a node. Prague. Once a hub of magical alchemy, its catacombs still held ancient wards. Perfect for stress-testing.
He spoke not in words but in pulses of intention. The Leviathan obeyed. Across the chamber, mirrors realigned, beams of light locking into a new sequence.
Half a continent away, a wardstone buried beneath Prague's Old Town Bridge flickered. Its centuries-old protective field collapsed like wet parchment.
Eric watched the results unfold on the Leviathan's projection: a dome of light shattering, ancient wards dissolving. In Prague, Aurors would awaken to find one of their most sacred defenses gone in an instant—with no attacker, no trace.
He whispered: "Proof of reach."
---
The Second Test: Tokyo
His eyes shifted east. Tokyo's ley-lines were dense, webbed like a spider's nest. He threaded the Code into them, subtly at first. The Leviathan's hum deepened as it bent the currents, weaving a pattern of disruption.
Across the city, magical wards tied to subway lines flickered, throwing transportation into chaos. Spell-screens in hidden magical districts scrambled, collapsing into static.
Eric released the sequence. Instantly, the anomalies ceased, like a hand withdrawing from water. No evidence. Only panic.
He leaned back in the throne. "Invisible. Untouchable."
---
The Third Test: The Arctic Circle
Now, the ultimate test: raw force. He turned his attention northward, where ley-lines converged beneath sheets of ancient ice.
He amplified the flow, binding Nemesis into the Leviathan's stream. Energy surged.
A low rumble shook the chamber as the Leviathan magnified his will. Across the Arctic, fissures of light split the ice. Entire shelves cracked, sending tremors across the frozen sea. To Muggle eyes, it would look like climate catastrophe. To wizards, it was a warning: something unseen was manipulating the bones of the earth.
Eric felt the power roar through him, nearly overwhelming. He gritted his teeth, channeling the surge. For one fleeting moment, he held not a city, but a continent in his grasp.
Then he released it. The fissures sealed. The hum steadied. The chamber fell quiet again.
---
The Realization
He sat in silence, chest rising and falling. The Leviathan's map hovered above him, a web of glowing arteries spanning the globe. Every node pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat synced with his own.
This was no longer an experiment. It was reality.
The world isn't theirs anymore. It's mine. They just don't know it yet.
---
A Whisper in the System
Then something unexpected happened. The Leviathan's mirrors shifted without his command. A pattern flickered—strange runes not of his design.
Eric froze. "What is this?"
The projection warped, momentarily forming an image: a serpent devouring its own tail. Ancient. Endless.
Then the system stabilized, the anomaly gone.
Eric leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Not resistance. Recognition."
The Leviathan was evolving—learning him, but also responding on its own terms. Not a tool. Not entirely.
A partner.
---
The Broadcast
He rose from the throne, cloak swirling around him. It was time to make his presence known.
The Leviathan's resonance crystals glowed as he activated a broad-spectrum signal. Not a speech to the public—no. This was meant only for the magical elite, the Ministry officials, the ICW leaders, the hidden rulers of their fragile order.
His voice carried along the ley-lines, woven into currents of power that would slip into their wards, their halls, their very dreams.
"The age of distance is over. Your wards, your walls, your nations—they are relics. The world is already mine. You will not see me, but you will feel me. You will bow, not to a man, but to the inevitability of design."
Across Europe, candle-flames flickered in wizarding homes. In New York, enchanted wards sparked without cause. In Geneva, ICW wards rang like struck bells.
The message was received.
---
The Aftermath
Eric returned to the throne and closed his eyes. Power lingered in his veins like fire.
He thought of the Inner Circle—Lisette's doubts, Ailis's defiance, Regulus's silence. They would either break or rise with him. But it no longer mattered.
He was no longer just a boy in Hogwarts. No longer even a shadow behind the mask of Severus Snape.
He was the Architect.
And the world had just heard his voice.
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