As the final syllable left his lips, Ethan flicked his wand upward. In mid-air, the wood shimmered and transformed into an elegant, slender paintbrush.
Like an archer pulling a bowstring toward the heavens, the surging golden light around him converged toward the ceiling, coalescing into a colossal, radiant bird of pure brilliance.
"Skreeee—!"
The golden bird opened its beak and let out a piercing, resonant cry.
The sound rippled outward in waves, like a bronze bell awakening the world. It sent a jolt through everyone's mind, clearing their thoughts as if they had just inhaled a massive breath of icy peppermint. It was deafening, yet strangely revitalizing.
"You—stop him! Dumbledore, do something!" Minister Scrimgeour shrieked. A sense of impending doom had reached its zenith, his heart hammering against his ribs in sheer terror.
The scene before him unearthed ancient, buried memories—glimpses from his youth of the Great War against Grindelwald. Back then, the heavens had changed color, and magic had swept across the land like a tsunami. Now, that same apocalyptic power was manifesting before his very eyes.
Dumbledore didn't waste words. He strode forward, his wand whipping through the air with practiced precision. In his weathered eyes, a spark of grim determination flickered alongside a trace of genuine admiration.
An instant later—
Whoosh!
A massive torrent of water erupted from the ground, swirling into a localized flood aimed at Ethan. Dumbledore sought to imprison him within a watery cage.
But then...
[ROAR—!]
A gargantuan shadow lunged from the darkness ahead.
With a mane of pitch-black fur that flickered like dark flames and six orange-yellow eyes the size of copper bells, a Three-Headed Dog—straight from the depths of hell—slashed through the torrent with claws wreathed in corrosive fire.
It slammed Dumbledore into the ground, pinning the Headmaster beneath its massive paws.
"Urgh..." Dumbledore let out a pained groan. His back had definitely just given out.
Looking up at the three sets of dripping fangs hovering inches from his face, he wisely chose to remain still and limp.
Result: Unattainable Victory.jpg
With the caster incapacitated, the wall of water collapsed into a harmless puddle.
"No... you can't do this... You can't destroy everything I've worked for—Ethan Vincent!!!" Scrimgeour's voice cracked in a desperate, lung-tearing scream.
In the face of the Minister's despair, Ethan merely raised his paintbrush. He made a light, sweeping stroke across the air, looking for all the world like a master artist mid-masterpiece. Except his canvas was the entire Ministry of Magic.
His lips curled into a faint smile as he whispered:
"Go forth, my favorite spell—Avis."
Though, "Bird Missiles" would have been a far more accurate description.
"SKREEEE—!!"
As Ethan spoke, a cataclysmic explosion of magical energy erupted! The shockwave instantly bowled over Scrimgeour, the Aurors, and the huddle of students.
Under countless horrified gazes, the golden bird flapped its majestic wings and surged upward. It tore through the massive shaft previously carved out by the Flesh and Blood Spine Sword, soaring toward the world above.
Rumble—!
The earth shuddered. Masonry crumbled. Everywhere those golden wings brushed, solid stone shattered like brittle tofu, raining debris down in a chaotic storm. Massive, terrifying fissures spider-webbed across the walls.
"Bloody hell..." Ron gasped, clutching his brothers' arms so hard he was nearly in tears. "Ethan isn't actually going to do what I think he's going to do, is he?"
The Weasley twins shook their brother off and threw their arms up in a cheer. "Wooo-hoo! Yeah! This is peak excitement!"
As expected, if you followed Ethan, there was never a dull moment.
A moment later, Ron's fears were realized.
A series of deafening cracks echoed through the atrium, followed by a violent tremor that felt like a localized tectonic shift. The ground beneath their feet and the walls around them began to heave.
Crash!
Dust and rubble poured down from the ceiling like a waterfall.
"Merlin! The Ministry is collapsing!!" an Auror screamed, struggling to keep his footing. They stared up in shock, wands in hand, yet paralyzed by the scale of the disaster. Against a catastrophe of this magnitude, any counter-spell felt futile.
The golden bird had already vanished into the heights, lost to sight.
Then, suddenly, the shaking stopped.
A deathly silence fell over the ruins. Everyone looked at one another, their eyes reflecting a mixture of confusion and raw terror. Finally, they all turned their gaze toward the figure standing at the center of the chaos.
Their "New Savior," Ethan Vincent, wore a look of pure, unadulterated joy. He raised his hand and—Snap!—gave a sharp flick of his fingers.
His lips moved, forming a single word:
"Boom."
The next second—
BOOM—!!!
The entire Ministry of Magic caved in on itself.
"AAAAAAHHHH!!!"
Screams erupted. The crowd watched in blank horror as tons of earth and stone descended upon them like a heavy shroud.
In that split second, a pitch-black doorway yawned open beneath their feet.
"Waaaaah—"
As they plummeted into the darkness, their screams fading into the distance, the members of the Enlightenment Society looked at the crushing masonry being sealed away and wailed from the bottom of their hearts:
"President! I want to resign—!!"
If they kept dealing with these "surprises," they were going to die of old age before they turned twenty!
...Unfortunately, membership in the Enlightenment Society was a noble, lifelong commitment. Even if they ended up in the underworld, Ethan would likely just summon them back to keep working like dogs—ahem, to continue their glorious cause.
A sliver of morning light broke across the horizon.
Dizzy and disoriented, the group pushed themselves up from the ground, staring open-mouthed at the ruins beneath them.
The ruins of the Ministry of Magic—the pinnacle of British wizarding authority.
A crater over a hundred meters long stretched across a Muggle street, causing nearby houses to tilt precariously inward. Only a simultaneous explosion of every gas main in London could possibly explain such a disaster to the public.
Fortunately, the Ministry's location had been chosen for its seclusion, so there were no civilian casualties. There was just... no Ministry left.
"Merlin's saggy left toe..."
An Auror stood up on trembling legs, gazing at the pale dawn and the upturned asphalt of the Muggle road. He muttered in a daze, "I'm literally witnessing history..."
Gringotts had been blown up. Azkaban had been blown up. And now, finally, it was the Ministry's turn. At this rate, he'd have the "Explosion Grand Slam" if he just added Hogwarts to the list.
"Why... why did it have to be like this...?"
Minister Scrimgeour knelt amidst the debris, his expression vacant. It was as if a Veela had sucked every ounce of spirit from his body. His once-hard, determined face was now a pale mask of defeat, looking as though he had been ravaged by a hurricane.
The sight was almost enough to make the others feel pity. The Aurors exchanged glances, preparing to help their superior up, when a blonde figure skipped forward.
Luna Lovegood leaned down, staring at Scrimgeour with intense curiosity. "Are you actually crying?" she asked, sounding genuinely surprised.
Everyone: "..."
You really aren't going to let him have this moment, are you?
Luna's lips curled into a smile, her clear blue eyes shimmering with bright light. "I mean, why did you have to go against Ethan? He's such a kind, gentle person~"
The name "Ethan" seemed to act as a trigger. Scrimgeour flinched, lifting his soot-stained face. His bloodshot eyes locked onto the figure standing a short distance away.
"Why...?" he rasped, his voice cracking. "Why did you do all of this! What is it you actually want?!"
He flung his arms wide, pointing at the bewildered students. "Power? Status? Strength? Tell me! Tell these people you've blinded! ETHAN VINCENT!!!"
The shout echoed through the wreckage.
"..."
Harry clenched his fists, his eyes also fixed on Ethan. He wanted to know too—the reason behind it all. Ethan's ultimate goal.
Was he really like Voldemort? Or like the first Dark Lord, Grindelwald? Did he simply want to rule the world? That was, after all, the dream of every ambitious, powerful wizard.
Only Luna let out a deep sigh and whispered softly:
"But Ethan has said it so many times. His wish has always been the same..."
"—I just want to create a perfect painting that the whole world can witness."
Ethan just wanted to paint, that's all.
Luna looked at the radiant, high-spirited Ethan and smiled a sweet, knowing smile.
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