"Good evening, Aurors. The Ministry of Magic certainly has a unique way of welcoming visitors, doesn't it?" Elijah said calmly.
His answer was five overlapping spells.
"Expelliarmus!"
Five Stunning Charms shot toward him from different angles. Behind Elijah stood the closed elevator of the Ministry of Magic.
There was no path for retreat.
Of course, he didn't need one.
He didn't even bother to lift his hand. The air around him suddenly twisted, thin currents of electricity forming like waves of rising heat. In an instant, the lightning spread outward, creating a shimmering shield that blocked the incoming spells.
Wordless. Wandless. Without even a gesture.
Then the electric current intensified abruptly.
The lightning burst outward like the branches of an exploding tree or a swarm of serpents shooting forward. The crackling arcs struck the Aurors' bodies, biting into their skin and paralyzing their muscles.
A blinding white flash filled the Atrium.
When the light faded, the five Aurors were already curled on the ground, their bodies rigid as if turned to stone.
Meanwhile, the Ministry of Magic Atrium was almost unrecognizable.
The magnificent golden fountain had shattered, spraying water wildly like a broken showerhead. The centaur statue had lost its head, and broken arrows had smashed into the goblin statue's pointed hat.
Elijah walked past the fallen Aurors with his hands clasped behind his back.
He had no intention of killing them. If he had, the lightning would have incinerated them instantly rather than leaving them temporarily paralyzed.
As he stepped into the long black corridor beyond the Atrium, Elijah casually waved his arm, sealing the fireplaces along the walls as he passed. He had no desire for Dumbledore to suddenly step out of one.
In any case, Dumbledore was probably already back at Hogwarts. With the Aurors guarding the Ministry incapacitated, it was unlikely anyone could send a warning in time.
Besides, Elijah's attack on the Ministry had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Unless Dumbledore were a Seer, he couldn't possibly have predicted it.
Elijah slowly surveyed the Ministry as he walked toward the end of the hall, arriving at the security checkpoint. Although there were no other employees present at this hour, he still dutifully registered himself.
"After all," Elijah muttered, "I'm not a terrorist like Voldemort. I entered through the proper visitor entrance."
He tossed aside the quill and parchment, clapped his hands lightly, and stepped back into the elevator.
His true destination tonight was the Department of Mysteries.
In the wizarding world, there were countless forms of magic that even the greatest wizards could neither explain nor control. If magic itself was already miraculous to Muggles, then the magic sealed within the Department of Mysteries could be called miracles among miracles.
Even if Elijah failed to find the key to Vault 12, uncovering some of the Department's secrets would still be a tremendous gain.
Of course, that challenge was probably even greater than refining the Philosopher's Stone.
The elevator began to descend again. Soon it carried Elijah to the lowest floor.
Before him stretched an ancient, austere black corridor.
There was only one door.
It stood quietly at the end of the hall, yet somehow seemed to whisper to anyone who looked at it, tempting them to open it.
Elijah knew perfectly well that the sensation was only psychological.
He pushed the door open.
Beyond it lay a vast circular chamber. Everything in the room, from the floor to the ceiling, was black and polished like obsidian, reflecting the faint light with a cold gleam.
The place almost looked like a residence designed for a Dark Lord.
Elijah stepped into the chamber.
Twelve identical doors were set evenly around the circular wall. None bore any markings. Each door seemed like an hour on a clock, and beneath the eerie blue flames burning along the walls, they radiated a mysterious and unsettling aura.
Of the twelve doors, one was the entrance. The remaining eleven concealed unknown mysteries.
Elijah knew the contents of seven of them.
The other four were completely unfamiliar.
"Accio key."
He tried summoning the key with magic, but as expected, nothing happened.
"It seems I'll have to check them one by one."
As soon as Elijah stepped inside, the door behind him closed automatically. At the same moment, the circular wall began to rotate rapidly, like a massive turntable.
When it finally stopped, Elijah could no longer tell which door he had entered through.
He chose the nearest door and pushed it open.
Inside was a tall, cold chamber lined with towering shelves. Upon them rested dusty crystal balls of varying sizes.
A few glowed faintly with flowing, mysterious light.
Most, however, resembled dead lightbulbs, their prophecies long since broken.
"The Hall of Prophecy."
The room held little interest for Elijah.
On one hand, he already knew the prophecy concerning Voldemort and Harry. On the other, there were simply too many prophecies stored here.
More importantly, Voldemort's attitude toward prophecy and the fate that eventually followed had given Elijah a valuable lesson.
Sometimes, trying to escape a prophecy only leads directly into it.
Leaving the Hall of Prophecy, Elijah carved a small mark on the door.
As expected, the circular wall began rotating again. But with the mark as a reference point, Elijah could easily identify which door he had already opened.
He moved to the next one.
When he opened it, he found himself standing in a room completely at odds with the dark atmosphere of the Department of Mysteries.
The chamber was breathtakingly beautiful.
Light danced everywhere like sunlight striking heaps of diamonds. Countless gems refracted brilliant colors across the room.
The surrounding walls were covered with rotating clocks.
They varied wildly in size and shape, from towering grandfather clocks to tiny pocket watches. The entire room was filled with the relentless ticking of their mechanisms.
The sound echoed endlessly, like the synchronized footsteps of thousands of soldiers marching in perfect rhythm.
This was the Time Chamber.
The moment Elijah stepped inside, he felt a heavy pressure settle over him.
He had never liked the rhythmic ticking of clocks. The steady sound made him feel as though time itself were tightening around his throat.
Yet he did not leave immediately.
Instead, he walked toward the far end of the chamber, approaching a bell-shaped glass case.
All the light in the room seemed to originate from it.
Inside the glass, currents of shimmering air swirled continuously, never pausing for even a moment.
Time was abstract.
But motion was eternal.
Like the endlessly beating wings of a hummingbird, repeating the cycle of life again and again, from birth to death, like waves rising and falling without end.