• Hogwarts, Headmaster's Tower, Bedroom •
[Albus Dumbledore]
Floating around had become a big part of my relaxation routine. The feeling of rolling through the air without any regard for gravity was like tickling a very primal part of the brain.
So here I was, upside down and cross-legged with my eyes closed, enjoying the moment—something that was surprisingly hard to do, especially after learning that my latest big move had been somewhat useless. Not completely, but almost.
I'd discovered that after returning to my bedroom, still feeling cheerful from my earlier experiments. I decided to check on the changes that came with my new status, so I sat down and dove deep into my soul.
The changes were obvious. My soul seemed more fortified, more solid, with far more discernible features. It had gained a metaphysical weight I hadn't possessed before.
This, of course, wasn't the only change. My own magic appeared to have tripled in quantity and nearly doubled in potency once again. My mindscape felt more fortified, and some of the limitations placed on my Archmage Essence seemed to have loosened.
By this point, I was very happy—elated, even. But then I decided to check the contract mark more closely, to see if there were any changes there, especially since I used it as a kind of benchmark for positive progress.
The changes were underwhelming. Slightly better than last time, but not by much. The mark was smaller, sure, with fainter edges, but there were no other major shifts.
That soured my mood a little, but I decided to shelve the thought for later. Next, I went to check my mindscape to see if there were any surprises waiting there.
There were. A few books of memories were glowing—memories from my past life. Those shaky, blurry recollections seemed to have been touched up, given an overall image enhancement and focus correction.
I took one of the books and opened it. The memory inside began to play.
— memory book ??? —
A group of teenagers were gathered in a parking lot, laughing and joking as the day came to an end. The sky was orange, almost red.
"Hey, you know what we should do?" one of them asked.
"What?"
"We should go to that grocery store on the corner and steal a few bottles of beer," he revealed, like a villain unveiling his grand scheme.
"That's a stupid idea."
"Yeah, they know who we are—and who our parents are."
"Plus, that's Anna's dad's store. We'd probably get beaten up by her quarterback boyfriend in school tomorrow."
"Okay, fine. You plan something, then, geniuses."
"Well… we could do the same thing, but a block or two away?"
"That's actually a good idea…"
"That was my idea."
"Yeah, but this one's more refined. So is it really yours?"
"Ugh, let's stop arguing and just go."
. . .
— memory paused —
The memory played, and I found myself smiling as I remembered. That was the night the police officer caught us and took us back to the station.
I remembered being so afraid I almost peed myself in there.
"Hahahaha!" I laughed, rewatching the memory again, this time focusing on the details of our arrest.
— memory continued —
"Okay, I stuffed two down here. You do the same and let's get out," one teen whispered, lifting his hoodie to show two beer bottles tucked into his pants.
"Alright, let's do this," the others agreed, too hyped to notice their voices carried—or that a middle-aged police officer stood beside the store owner, watching the scene unfold with amusement.
Each teen bought a chocolate bar and went to the counter to pay, walking awkwardly and acting stranger by the second.
Just as the first one paid and turned toward the door, a beer bottle slid down his pant leg and hit the floor.
Crack…
Pssssssdtttt.
There was a pause as everyone stared wide-eyed. The teen simply turned around, pulled out the other bottle, placed it on the counter with a fifty-dollar bill, and tried to save himself further embarrassment.
The rest, though, didn't share his foresight. They tried to make a run for it—a move that made the police officer step forward almost instinctively, blocking the door.
. . .
— memory end —
What followed was all of us being hauled to the station in the back of a police car, pleading our case to the infinite amusement of the officers.
It was funny. Watching this made me feel conflicted—nostalgic, and somehow reluctant.
It made me realize I'd skipped all the stupid mistakes I should have been making and regretting now in another world. Instead, here I am planning and preparing to fight gods.
'Sure, I have plenty of memories of staggeringly poor decisions, but this… this just hit different.'
Shaking my head, I sighed and pulled out of my mindscape. It wasn't the time to dwell on this. I could figure it out later. For now, I needed to relax a little more and refine my plans.
As I floated around the room, spinning like an astronaut in space, I kept reflecting on my journey until now and came up with one simple conclusion: I hadn't done much. Sure, some actions had been taken, but there was still very little obvious impact from those decisions.
"Still, it seems I have to revise my plans a little," I muttered, going over how disappointing the results of introducing chakra had been. "Then again, I have yet to enforce its existence into reality, so maybe that's the reason?"
That one question made me do something impulsive. I reached into my new status as a Primordial and metaphysically handed the world permission to unlock the potential to use this new energy—to everyone and everything in it.
The world seemed to glitch for a split second, as if reconfiguring a setting that had been locked before, without rebooting.
I regretted that decision almost instantly as I felt my chakra being constantly siphoned by the world. It seemed I would need to serve as a battery for a while, until the world grew accustomed to the new addition. I also hadn't enforced any rules or limitations upon chakra beyond what was already there—but that didn't bother me anymore. If I didn't like how certain people used chakra, I'd just take it away from them.
'It's okay though,' I thought. 'I think I've finally found the way.'
I opened my eyes, adjusted my posture in the air, and levitated down onto my bed. Lying there, staring blankly at the ceiling as my chakra remained stuck at the one-quarter mark—unable to rise thanks to the world steadily draining it—I started to think ahead.
What type of energy would help my world the most? My Devil Fruit research was at a dead end for now. My faith-siphoning system was almost ready, and the research on Nen wouldn't take much longer either. Yet I still needed an energy that was utterly unique to my world.
An energy as unique as our magic. An energy better than Nen and chakra combined. Something the world treated as a prize rather than something common.
And that's when it hit me.
Ki.
But not just any Ki. A Ki that was possible for anyone to acquire, but only those who persevered and reached the pinnacle could truly obtain. A Ki designed solely for humans. A Ki that made it possible for humanity to fight gods, if needed.
I felt a smile stretch across my face. Yes, this was impulsive. Yes, this might cause some unnecessary trouble down the line—but I didn't care. It wouldn't even require me to create this energy. Just enough patience, and by the end of the month—maybe even sooner—everyone would feel it.
As I was diving fast into my fantasy, a faint golden light flickered at the edge of my sight.
"A message?" I wondered aloud.
A screen manifested in front of me, and I found myself blinking once or twice as I saw the sender's name: "Gellert Grindelwald."
'Well, I'll be,' I thought, slightly surprised by how quickly the man had contacted me.
I opened the message and found nothing but a set of coordinates.
I stared at the chat screen for a moment longer before standing up.
'It seems I have a meeting to attend.'
X_
• Godric's Hollow Graveyard, Godric's Hollow •
I materialized near the graveyard entrance, shimmering into existence with the grace of a poorly cast Disillusionment Charm being dispelled—a new teleportation method I'd tried for the first time just now. By using my status as a bridge, I could simply step from one place to another with almost no energy cost.
'Still, that felt weird, so I'm not doing it again,' I thought as I stepped into the graveyard.
White and black tombstones greeted my sight, left, right, and ahead. Everywhere you turned, there was another marker. Though, to be fair, this was one of the oldest cemeteries in northwestern Europe, one where some of the oldest magicks were infused into the very land.
I walked slowly, my eyes tracing the names of people. Some I knew, some I taught, and some were family.
'It's quite a depressing place to be, if I'm being honest,' I thought as I walked toward my destination: the grave of my sister, Ariana Dumbledore.
"You know," I said, addressing the man standing in front of the grave, "meeting in Honeydukes is a very viable option."
[Here lies
Kendra Dumbledore and her daughter Ariana Dumbledore
"Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."]
I stood next to Gellert, my eyes on the dark granite tombstone and its inscription.
"Yeah, well, this was the first place I wanted to visit as soon as I set foot in the Isles," Gellert replied, his eyes never leaving the grave.
"Well, I'm just giving you an option," I shrugged, then added, "Being here just reminds me of how many people I've watched being buried here."
"Ah, Albus the sensitive," Gellert scoffed.
I just shook my head. "So what's this about? It hasn't even been a full day since the news of your new rank became public."
"I had some questions I needed answers to," he replied simply, finally looking up and turning to face me.
"Well then, ask away."
Gellert stayed silent for a few moments, staring directly into my eyes, then asked, "How bad is the situation?"
I held his gaze for a second and replied, "Deadly."
He fell silent again, raising his head to the night sky. "And Ariana? What are my chances?"
I sighed audibly and replied, "With your old plan? Zero."
"Hmm," he hummed. "And do you have an alternative?"
"…Yes."
"Chances?"
"As of now? Fifty."
"Does it have anything to do with becoming a god?"
I showed surprise, but still answered, "Yes." Then I asked, "Prophecy?"
"Hmm," he hummed again.
"What did you see?"
"It's better if you don't know…" he said. "The god thing—have you already found a way?"
I fell silent for a second, making it look like I was deliberating whether to tell him or not, then just nodded.
He studied me for a moment before turning back to look at the grave.
"The information we have about the invasion is contradictory," he stated. "If we've known about other beings and phenomena happening for more than a decade, why is it only now that you're moving?"
I sighed again, this time heavily and tiredly. "Why do you think?"
He didn't reply and just fell silent again. "How bad?"
"I don't know yet," I shook my head. "Though I suspect more than half of the departments are, in my conservative estimates."
"Heh, even you don't know, huh," he chuckled wryly.
"Well, it's called the Department of Mysteries for a reason," I shrugged, unbothered.
"So what's the actual plan here?"
"For now? Get the people out of their rut and have them train. Dangle the promise of power in front of them before using force on those who decide to be a burden."
"And that's why you want me to get the undesirable side of society under control… to create a sense of crisis," he nodded as if he understood. "But it wouldn't work. Like it didn't work back then."
"Ah, but back then, there was no Archive."
"True. But I also think this plan won't work as intended."
"We'll see… but for now, this is the best I can do."
He sighed—a heavy sigh—and then started walking out. He stepped midway and turned around. "That god thing… can I too…?" he asked, his tone hesitant.
"Yes, you can," I nodded, smiling at him.
His eyes widened for a second before nodding again in acceptance. "What do I need to do?"
"If you want to succeed in actually holding the divinity? Double your strength at the very least," I stated, completely serious.
He raised an eyebrow at me and summoned his Archive, clicked on a few things, and then made a throwing gesture with his finger toward me.
My own Archive came into view, and I saw what he sent me: the comparison statistics of the mental fight simulation, showing he had a 45% chance of winning.
I smirked and clicked a few things before making the same gesture toward him, sending him new statistics that showed his chance to be 5%.
His eyes widened, and he looked at me with surprise and intrigue. "You can fake your own status?"
"Nah," I shook my head. "Just haven't updated it for a while. This is my current statistic."
"You can do that?" He started clicking on the Archive more and more but, not finding the option, looked back at me questioningly.
"What? It's my magic," I replied, showing a smug smile. "I can have small perks."
"That's…." He stopped talking.
"What? You too have perks of your own magic that others just don't."
He blinked a few times, turned around, and just walked away.
A message appeared not long after, informing me of our next meeting time and location. Though this time, he did pick Honeydukes.
I sighed and walked out too. It was time I headed home.
X_
• Buckingham Palace •
[Queen Elizabeth II]
She leaned back in the armchair, resting after the stressful day she'd had. One would think she'd be used to it by now—the politics, the smiling faces, the flowery words and grand promises—but honestly, she wasn't.
She had more than enough power and leverage to keep those who needed it in check, but even that was just the bare minimum of what she wanted.
She closed her eyes, her mind going over everything that had happened today and everything she'd learned, and she couldn't help but scowl slightly.
There were things that everyone knew not to touch. Children were number one on that list. But it seemed she'd gotten old. People had forgotten what she could do and had started underestimating her.
She wasn't even dead yet, and they were already trying to get their hands on powers they had no right to.
'Calm, Elizabeth, calm,' she reminded herself. 'You have all night to remind them of their place.'
Knock… knock…
"Enter," she replied, not even bothering to open her eyes. No one could harm the Queen inside the palace.
"I have everything you requested ready, Ma'am."
"Hmm," she hummed in acceptance. "Did you verify the information more than once?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Everything has been double-checked three times."
"Okay, then." She opened her eyes and stood up. "What are we waiting for? Let's get going."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
The agents saluted and moved aside, allowing her to take the lead.
She walked through the corridor before turning left and stopping in front of an old painting of a knight. She raised her hand and traced her finger along the stele beside the knight until she felt something prick her skin. A drop of blood seeped into the painting and disappeared as if nothing had happened.
She extended her hand to the left, where one of the agents stepped forward, took her hand, and traced his wand over her finger while muttering an incantation.
The Queen didn't even look, continuing forward as soon as the secret passageway appeared. She didn't have time to marvel at the sensation of magic on her finger.
She soon arrived at her destination: the headquarters of her own private agency.
The room was a marvel of technology, filled with things still thought to be impossible—from computers to advanced gear and everything in between.
"Alright, boys. Let's get this started," she muttered as she walked over and sat down in front of a large screen on the wall.
"Operation DD Alpha 1 starts now."