Author note: I will be editing this later…
X_
• Supreme Mugwump Office, ICW Main Building, Switzerland •
• October 16th, 6:00 PM •
[Albus Dumbledore]
As opposed to my office in Hogwarts, this one did not feel wizardly. It was fine—just a classic big office with huge windows behind a big desk, a comfortable chair, and a huge, floor‑to‑ceiling bookshelf on the right side, where old and new books were placed.
The floor, much like everything else in the office, was layered in old wood that was saturated in magic, giving it that ancient and significance‑filled feeling.
That's not counting the long strings of small runes written on everything. There's no corner in this room without a rune engraved on it.
Although, as opposed to the novelty and refreshing feeling the office exuded, I was anything but… I was exhausted.
Then again, I should have seen this coming. I knew that logistics was a nightmare. Now I am dealing with nightmares to the power of infinity, where infinity is the world, magic, countries, communities, and whatever the hell else I will find.
I do not regret the decision to reform the government, however, although the feeling I have right now is as regret‑adjacent as can be.
I can't see many downsides to the new form of government I proposed. I might have ripped off the idea from the Fairy Tail anime, but it was a very good thing to implement here.
Especially since I can actually guarantee that no corruption would ever fill the offices through different means—but that's not why I decided to change everything.
No, the reason for my decision, aside from me getting sick and tired of everyone there, was simple. My peace of mind.
I realized that while I could continue to entertain the charade that is the current ICW, I would not last long. Not because of bad PR, or schemes, or whatever else they can think of, but because there would come a day where I would finally snap and massacre all of them.
I did not want that. I liked being a quirky, benevolent man, so I decided to make a government that I control and don't need to listen to mind‑rotting speeches every time something big happens.
'Now, I just need to get this done while my clones do their job, and in a few weeks everything will be okay,' I thought, smiling as I pressed the seal on the paper and put it on the left side of the table.
My right hand took a new one from the pile with practiced ease and put it in front of me. I skimmed the content, set it ablaze, and took another one.
They could send as many objections and complaints as they wished; I wouldn't change my decision.
I might try to find a new name for the new government council, however, but I wouldn't count on it.
I suck at naming. It's why I plagiarized the Fairy Tail thing in the first place. I named a phoenix "Fawkes" for Merlin's sake—that should have been the first clue…
'Ugh, this is gonna take all day,' I complained as I stamped another paper.
'Bye bye, sleep.'
---
• Hogwarts, RoR № VII •
• October 18th, 10:00 AM •
[Cassius White/Black]
Cassius dodged the short green creature aiming to stab his neck and delivered a strong punch to its head, making it pop like a balloon.
He was very thankful that this was a simulation and that the gross dark brown blood and grey stuff that landed on him were not real.
A sense of danger rang through his head, accompanied by a slight tingling at the base of his spine. "Protego!" he yelled, and a thin film of invisible magic shielded him.
He felt something hit the barrier behind him, making it shimmer as it blocked the arrow.
He let out a quick sigh of relief. Dedicating all his time yesterday to learn this spell was worth it. It was worth all the headaches, exhaustion, and actual physical injuries he sustained.
Then again, nothing motivates a person more than fear… yeah, seeing the ugly monsters spawning out of portals made him forsake everything in order to learn that spell.
It was hard. Not because it was magically taxing—most children in Hogwarts had started to get a lot stronger magically than ever before. No. It was the intent and wand movement.
Whoever said that intent‑based magic was easy was definitely a muggle.
He wiped his wand and sent an overpowered Depulso toward the archer goblin, and enjoyed watching him shriek as he was sent flying through the air, hitting the wall with a force that broke his body.
Cassius let out a long exhale as he waited for the second wave of monsters to spawn. He only had ten more minutes in the room before he had to get out so another student could use it.
A group of five green goblins materialized a few meters away from him. He took a deep breath and tucked his wand into his holster before taking a stance.
He wanted to practice his reinforcement technique in active combat. One could practice it alone all they wanted, but combat was a lot different.
He met the charging goblins head‑on, ducking the wooden club swinging his way as he threw a near uppercut, popping the head of the lead goblin off.
He followed that with a straight jab of his other hand, which pushed the other goblin back.
What happened next was him kicking the shit out of the monsters, trying very hard to keep his reinforcement technique up while doing so.
'Ugh,' he grunted and fell on his arse as the monsters vanished into motes of light. His scratches, tiredness, and mental exhaustion slowly left him with each breath he took.
He wished he could stay a few more minutes, but the insistent buzzing sensation at the back of his head told him otherwise.
There was already someone waiting to use the room.
'Well, I'll just have to be content with using mental simulation,' he sighed, stood up, and started walking toward the exit.
The door opened, and he came face to face with Neville, Harriet, Hermione, and Susan Bones.
"Cassius, so you were here all along?" Neville asked as he walked toward him, pulling him into a hug. "I haven't seen you since yesterday. Where have you been?"
"Uh… I kind of slept on the common room couch when I arrived late yesterday, then woke up early today and have been training in different RoRs," he explained awkwardly.
"Oh…" Neville let out a sound as he nodded in understanding. "The monsters freaked you out into training more, didn't they?"
"Yeah…" he admitted quietly.
"You're not the only one," Susan said. "You'll probably see a lot of students sitting everywhere and practicing one thing or another in mental simulation."
"I know," he smiled. "The RoRs have never been busier."
"Hahaha, yeah," Neville laughed good‑heartedly. "Almost everyone is freaking out and channeling that into training."
"Professor Dumbledore not being here kind of adds to that too," Hermione added.
Harriet just stood there silently, watching him like he would do or say something that might incriminate him.
He really didn't know what he was thinking when he agreed to that dead ROB's… ugh, let's forget about that. He was a horny teenager. Of course he was thinking with his small head.
"Yeah… making another government would make anyone busy, I wager," Susan joked.
"Hahah, yeah… I still don't know why he did that," Cassius agreed with her. He had not missed how a lot of new things popping up in his reality were a lot similar to Fairy Tail…
"To make it easier for us in the future, I wager," Harriet finally decided to participate.
"Yeah, but Aunt Amelia did not seem happy with the news though. I got the impression that Professor Dumbledore's decision was not appreciated by a lot of people."
"Of course it wasn't," Cassius scoffed. "He just effectively abolished almost every pillar of our society's governing structure."
"Yeah…"
"Did you see the new requirements to take a seat or even a normal job in the ICW?"
"Yeah. The requirements are constantly updating. From general knowledge, to laws, to power standards."
"You know what I like most about this though?" Hermione asked, gaining their attention. "It's the fact that no position grants unilateral power over anyone. You want to become a Saint? You have to be so strong and knowledgeable that you actually have to be the best of the best."
She stopped and took a breath. "And that's not all. The best part is that there's no guarantee you'll actually keep your position for more than a year."
"Yeah. You have to keep being the best if you want the seat."
"Oh, and that's not all," she continued. "Normal office jobs also come with a lot of magical contracts and requirements. He effectively made corruption in governing bodies close to zero."
"It's great, isn't it?"
"Of course it is. Now no one can blame the government for their circumstances, at least."
"Hey… can we get to practice?" Harriet interrupted impatiently. "We won't stop talking about Professor Dumbledore if we keep this going."
"Yeah… let's get in," Neville agreed. "Want to join us, Cassius?"
Cassius stopped, looked at them, and then shrugged. "Sure. Let's go."
At least he would get to practice more and see his friends' abilities in action, as opposed to just seeing the ranks.
He turned around and walked back into the room, the rest following behind him.
Once they were standing in the middle of the empty stone room—the default setting he had chosen the RoR to appear as—he turned around and asked, "So? What are we fighting?"
"Monsters, of course," was the instant reply he got from Neville and Susan.
'That girl is a battle maniac too, huh?' He thought as he saw the excited grin on her face.
The redhead, much like everyone else, was wearing Hogwarts‑themed gym clothes that did not help in concealing her sizable assets.
Really, he was doing his best not to stare at them.
'This could be helpful in helping me adapt to distractions on the battlefield,' he thought, trying to hypnotize himself.
A better option than appearing like a pervert, he decided.
---
[Neville Longbottom]
Neville stood in the middle of the group as the surrounding environment changed. They found themselves standing in the streets. Buildings everywhere, and a big blue circle that looked like someone had punched space and succeeded in leaving a gap hovered a few meters ahead of them.
This was not the first time he had decided to challenge monsters, though most of his tries up to this point had been mental simulations.
"So what's the plan?" Harriet asked, brandishing her wand as she looked at the portal with undisguised interest and excitement.
"We fight," Susan replied instantly, sharing the same look.
"That's not a plan," Hermione rejected. "We need to decide our positions, learn how to fight like a team first, then… eeep!"
"Bla bla…" Harriet interrupted her by hugging her from behind. "We need to learn everything while fighting. That way we don't risk forming bad habits. I know this because I read about it in a book, so you can take your disagreement with it if you want."
Harriet proved that she knew her friend best, because she quickly shut her up by giving her the book information. He saw her open her Archive screen and, after a few quick taps, she seemed to have found it.
She grunted and looked away as Harriet started to tease her.
"Let's start with a standard goblin wave first," Cassius gave his opinion, looking slightly awkward for some reason. "Then we can decide what to add and what not to add after the first wave."
"Sure."
"That works."
"Let's do that."
"I still think we shouldn't do it…"
Seeing the majority were in agreement, he nodded at Cassius, and his friend started the wave.
The ugly green monsters that looked like goblins but were a lot uglier, with bigger noses covered in warts, as well as a lot of spots and discolorations that he decided to ignore, began to walk out of the gate.
"Expulso!" "Diffindo!" "Supplanto!"
Three spells whizzed past his head, making him blink. He was still assessing everything and taking in the situation, but the girls didn't seem to care.
They unleashed their spells one after another, either cutting the goblins into pieces or blasting them into smithereens of blood and gore.
He shuddered slightly and shared a look with Cassius beside him.
Yeah. It was better not to think about it.
He flooded his body with magic, enhancing his strength, speed, and durability thanks to reinforcement.
'Mana Zone,' he mentally intoned, and suddenly he was aware of everything happening in a three‑meter radius.
Those two techniques had come naturally to him, just like hand‑to‑hand or swordsmanship had.
He gave Cassius one last look, nodded, and launched himself toward his target.
His friend wasn't far behind, as he too followed him, deciding to fight physically.
It was not that he didn't have talent for casting or that he didn't know any spells. On the contrary, he knew almost every spell in their first‑year curriculum as well as half of the second‑year. No, he just preferred fistfighting. There was just something deeply satisfying about punching an enemy.
He felt his blood sing as he delivered a roundhouse kick to one of the goblins, adjusting minutely before following it with a flurry of punches to the rest of the monsters that were coming his way.
"Neville, duck!"
He fell to the ground as he felt something dangerous coming from behind him. It was only once he was down that his brain computed what he had heard.
"Boom." "Boom." "Boom."
He felt blood and gore drench him and looked back to see Susan pointing her wand his way… not his way, but the monsters' way, he corrected—though that didn't help, because that bloodthirsty smile she had on her face was doing something to him.
He didn't stay down for long. He jumped up and followed Cassius, who had overtaken him.
"Melofors!" "Melofors!"
He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he saw Cassius popping the goblins with pumpkin heads using punches and kicks, dancing around the spells in a way that seemed like he was predicting where they were coming from.
That was not it, though. He noticed almost instantly how Cassius's eyes roamed around the battlefield with every move he made.
'Now that's battle awareness,' he complimented him as he decided to follow suit.
He quickly learned, though, that said battle awareness was a lot harder to train when you had to predict two bloodthirsty maniacs of girls with more magic than sense.
He hopped to the left, dodging another cutting spell that would have absolutely taken his arm if he hadn't moved.
"Can you please aim your spells somewhere else!" He yelled in frustration, his breath slightly irregular. He was fighting for his life, and it wasn't just the monsters.
"Can't," Harriet, the culprit, answered. "In the zone."
"Fireball!"
He had to jump away again. This time from Susan.
'This is not what I had in mind when I thought about training,' he complained but continued to fight either way.
More monsters kept coming out of the gate.
It wasn't until fifteen minutes later that he took his wand out and started throwing whatever magic he could think of, with more monsters than they could reasonably clear at this point.
He didn't know what kind of progressive stage bullshit Cassius had chosen, but he definitely hadn't thought of this.
The girls had calmed down a lot. They were no longer trying to practice their every spell on 'living targets.' Now everyone appeared to be in a zone of their own.
Their movements were constant and their casting smoother.
His Mana Skin flickered away as it deflected a few pebbles that flew his way thanks to Harriet blowing up the area a few meters away from him with a 'Bombarda'.
He let out a long exhale as he dodged a goblin trying to gouge his eyes out with a stone dagger, then delivered a kick that sent it sailing through the air.
This would not have been possible without reinforcement. A magic with several degrees of mastery according to what he read.
Professor Dumbledore had built upon what Alastor Moody created, branching his enhancement magic into a lot more complicated and nuanced uses.
The sheer control required to master stage two was mind‑boggling to him, let alone the last stage.
He winced as he felt a splash of cold water hit his back again. Looking back, he found Susan throwing all kinds of basic elemental magic spells—whether through her basic circle or her wand.
"Grrrwraaaaaahhh!"
He turned his head to the right and saw a few goblins, ten or so, charging together, trying to get Cassius killed.
He had noticed how Cassius seemed to move through the battlefield, rarely staying in one spot, much like him.
He waved his wand and yelled, "Cassius, duck!" Which made his friend crouch down instantly and look back at him.
He didn't answer the inquisitive stare as he was about to show off.
He waved his wand in a horizontal, semicircular motion and intoned, "Windblade."
"Grrrahh!"
More than half of the goblins charging were cleaved in half.
He ignored Cassius's grumbling about Sukuna wannabes. His friend was strange like that sometimes, but he didn't judge.
"Guh!"
He turned around so fast he left a mark on the floor when he heard a human's sound grunting in pain. He looked toward the source and found Hermione kneeling, with an arrow sticking out of her stomach.
His blood ran cold. Everyone else froze like him too. Then Harriet exploded.
"Motherfuckers!"
Her voice reverberated in his bones as her magic started to get wild.
"Die! Die! Die!" She started throwing spells everywhere.
The ground cracked, the debris they had accumulated up to this point was blowing into smithereens, and the monsters were turning into mist faster than they could react.
She was going wild. The basic Hogwarts circle Professor Flitwick had shared with everyone was flickering very hard. She was just continuously charging magic and swinging her wand like a berserker.
He, on the other hand, was dodging the friendly fire much like the goblins, but unlike them, he was very lucky.
Cassius and Susan were already upon Hermione, helping her, but Harriet was going too wild.
He dropped slightly, bending his knee before propelling himself toward her. He had to dodge three spells mid‑way, but he arrived nonetheless.
He brought his hands around her, hugging her from behind and doing his best to restrain her hands together.
"Cassius! Stop the scenario!" he yelled.
He grunted in pain as Harriet thrashed in his hold. Her magic felt like it was metaphysically punching his own. Weird, but he could take a punch.
"Hey! Hey, it's okay." He whispered as he held her closer. "Hermione's okay…"
It took him a minute, but Neville managed the impossible. He managed to calm down a girl.
'This has to be some kind of accomplishment,' he thought, but kept his mouth shut.
"Umm, can you let me go now, Neville?" Harriet's soft voice snapped him back to reality, and he hastily let her go.
She quickly went to check on her friend, and he followed moments later.
Soon they were sitting in a circle. Hermione was still quite shaken by what had happened, her face slightly pale and her lips a little quivery.
"Hey, Nev…" Cassius said in a not‑so‑hushed voice. He turned his head and raised an eyebrow at him. "What was that Windblade spell you used? Where did you get it? Did you make it?"
"Ah… no." He shook his head. "That was a spell from Professor Dumbledore's repertoire. You know, the long list of spells, disciplines, magics, and stuff he knows?—Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Wha… what?" Cassius was taken aback before he schooled his shocked expression. "Ahem, never mind that. I just didn't think that's how you learned your spells."
"How else am I supposed to learn them?" He asked, looking at his friend as if he was an idiot. "You know most of the professors' repertoires are open to us so we can learn from them, right? It says so in that small note that you get when you click on their profiles…"
Now they were all looking at him like he had grown a second head. "What?"
"That's actually a very good idea!" Hermione voiced out excitedly, completely forgetting her near‑death experience, it seemed. "Why didn't I think of that? That would have reduced so much time spent researching new available spells…"
He tuned her out. She was going to be talking for a few minutes at least, so he let her be. He turned his head and saw Cassius smiling softly as he listened to her.
'Ah…' Like a lightbulb in his brain, he figured out what had happened. 'Smooth, Cassius. Smooth…'
---
• October 18th, 10:00 AM •
• Vatican, Italy •
[Dumbledore's Clone № 1, John]
John was one of the seven clones Albus Dumbledore created two days ago. These seven clones were each created for a specific purpose—some to take care of nuclear weapons around the world, some to take positions of power, etc.
John was designed to take the position of the saint.
A very Dumbledore‑like approach. He can't trust people with power unless personally vetted or equipped with dead switches.
John of course knew that, no matter what argument one could make about clones, his existence was just a temporary fix the main body was using while ironing out the details for his divinity, new government, new powers, and a whole lot of stuff.
Now, one might wonder: John, how did you join the church so easily?
The answer is one word: Slaviel.
He just came and escorted John toward the cathedral, introducing him to the bishops and all manner of men of faith.
It was really simple. He was like, "This is John, the new saint the Lord appointed to guide you through these troubling times."
Still, despite how easy it was for him to take a position in the church, he didn't like what followed. He had agreed to do a live interview before the appointment ceremony, which would be tomorrow.
Now, he was sitting in his private quarters. 'A place fit for a saint such as I…' Okay, he was getting too into it, but the place was truly gorgeous.
The high arched painted ceiling that made it look like an angel was actually coming out from between the white clouds.
The huge golden chandelier that went perfectly with all the golden highlights of the decorations. It was far too golden, yet for some reason it didn't feel gaudy at all.
The huge bed further down the big room, one that was obscured by big curtains, the seating area where a big sofa as well as two armchairs formed a semicircle around a dark wooden coffee table.
The large wooden bookcase right across from the sofa, one with a lot more books than one would expect.
Of course, the best thing about the room was the ambiance, which he took full credit for, seeing as he had enchanted the room with his Bright Lord essence to make it feel holy and peaceful.
Knock knock ~
"Come in," he said, his voice gentle, almost melodious. This was a voice engineered to be the most soothing anyone ever heard.
It was an enchantment the main body had added to his very being.
"Saint John… Your Holiness, forgive my interruption, but they are calling for you," said a soft, feminine voice—the nun who attended to him, Maria—as she opened the door.
"Nothing to forgive, Sister… nothing to forgive." He smiled and stood up, brushing his white robe, and started walking out. "Let's not keep them waiting."
He made sure to keep exuding just enough power to make whoever looked at him enter a trance and feel peace wash over them, which in turn made a slightly visible golden aura‑like outline on his figure.
They walked through the stony halls, a comfortable silence falling between them. They saw different members of the clergy, but most of them became tongue‑tied by his aura.
They arrived at the designated room. A big reception room, where a whole studio had been set up. There were a lot of people and noise, but as soon as he entered the room, it was as if someone had put a silencing charm on everyone.
Nobody talked. He simply smiled softly and greeted everyone.
They returned the greetings, of course, but the voices around started to become a lot more hushed.
He quickly found his seat for this interview, which then took the TV crew more than ten minutes to get used to filming properly instead of just watching him.
One would think he was made to be the most handsome man in the world. One would be wrong. John the clone was the most plain‑looking average guy one could find. Brown hair, brown eyes, and just normal features.
"Welcome, Saint John, sir?…" the young reporter seemed nervous as he greeted him.
He showed a warm smile and grabbed the man's shoulder while shaking his hand. "Welcome, young lad. What's your name?"
"Oh, my name is Justin Bellinger. It's nice to meet you—sir."
They shook hands and talked for a minute, getting him comfortable enough just so he wouldn't blubber on screen.
The filming started quickly. Justin signaled for his team to set up the camera and connected the interview to a live broadcast.
"Hello everyone, this is Justin, WWN live…" he started the introduction, smiling and talking smoothly.
John wasn't paying attention to any of this, however, because he was having a mental talk with Slaviel.
His dear angel was currently in Germany, where a large number of men of faith, as well as other unsavory people, had tried to get ahead of them by declaring John's title of saint inadmissible.
Of course, Slaviel would not let this happen, and John was currently stopping him from killing everyone there.
"Let's start from the top. Can you introduce yourself to the world?" Justin asked, bringing his attention back to what was happening.
"My name is John. Just John. I am the current Saint," he introduced himself to the camera, smiling.
"Mr. John, then. The Church and you have just now claimed the title of a saint. Is there evidence that proves your claim to the title?"
"A good question." He gave Justin an encouraging nod because he could see the reporter getting a lot more nervous the more he read the question. "The answer to that is rather simple. I gained the title of a saint because it was bestowed upon me by the Almighty."
"But how? Was there a revelation of some kind? A miracle? Something else?"
"Well, the Angel came to me and bestowed upon me the title, as well as the ability to receive the word of our Lord above."
"That's… hmm, we are getting a call that seems rather urgent, so let's take it first," Justin said, looking toward the middle‑aged man behind the camera setups.
John didn't listen to what was said once again, as he was being briefed by Slaviel that he had just convinced—which probably meant scared half to death—the gathered men of faith to make a call and ask their questions to him directly.
He didn't seem to like this, but John had told him not to kill them, so…
"St. John?" Justin called softly.
"Oh, my apologies. It seems that a big gathering of men of faith is happening right now in Germany. I was just shown what they were discussing. Not that it matters. Let's get back to the question. What was it?"
Justin blinked and glanced at the old man behind the camera. The producer nodded.
"Well, St. John, the question was once again about evidence. The Church and the world at large have not seen a saint in centuries. People are asking for concrete proof… a miracle…" His voice trailed off.
'Ugh, again with the proof,' John complained inwardly, his face showing nothing but his ever‑present soft smile. 'Faith was supposed to be belief without seeing, but then again, it's not like they practice that now, do they?'
"The angel of the Lord was not proof enough, huh?" He tilted his head, as if questioning their audacity.
"Um, there… there are people saying that the last few days have opened their eyes to a far wider world than the one they knew, and questioning if the angel was some kind of magic or…" Justin stopped and stared at the producer, like he couldn't believe what he was reading.
John guessed not everyone was informed about magic yet.
"Hmm." He hummed, getting Justin's attention back to him. "Let me ask you something before we return to the topic of proofs and miracles. What stops those who are asking for proof from asking again?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what's stopping people from asking for miracles again and again? It's not like I am here telling you to believe either way."
"You are not?"
"Of course not. Do you know how many people believe in different things? There has only ever been one God, yet you can find so many different understandings of Him around the world, can you not?"
Justin didn't answer. He seemed a lot more thoughtful, though.
A sound of a ring broke him out of his thoughts almost as fast, and he began his welcome speech.
"Hello, you are live on WWN…" John tuned out everything he said afterwards. He was bored.
"So, Dr. Swanson. What's your question?"
"I wanted to ask the saint something." The woman's tone was high, sharp and demanding— like what people in the future would call a Karen‑voice. "If what you're saying is real—that God is real and that everything that has been on the news for the past two days is not some kind of government experiment gone rogue—then why cancer? Why all the diseases? Why are children dying before they even get the chance to live?…"
She would have gotten a lot further, but the line was cut. John could tell they did that just so they wouldn't offend him more.
He shook his head and sighed. He brought his hands together in a prayer gesture and let the original and his Bright Lord essence do the work through their connection.
A small golden circle appeared on top of his head. His whole demeanor changed, right there on live TV.
For a few seconds, everyone in his immediate surroundings held their breath before some started to kneel, others praying…
The cameraman caught all of that. John could tell because he sensed the man being the only one moving about.
He opened his eyes, now nothing but golden light shining through them, erasing any trace of human eyes.
"Amen," he said, and the glow in his eyes started to fade until they returned to their healthy, human‑looking brown.
"I got the answer," he announced softly, his whole demeanor shifting to something more sorrowful.
"Wha—what is it?" Justin scrambled back to his seat, doing his best to try to look professional.
"Free will," John answered. "The Lord said everything that happens to us is a consequence of our forefathers' actions. There was no such thing as disease in the beginning. Then, much like we do to the planet today—not caring for what kind of new illnesses and plagues will follow the next few generations because of us—they too did things not caring about what would happen to us. Indulging in sin and not caring. Those are the consequences."
"That's… really?" Justin was understandably bewildered. "Then what happens to the kids who died?" he asked.
"They are in heaven." John tilted his head and gave him a look that said, 'where else would they be?'
"Oh, yeah, that makes sense…" Justin looked away, slightly embarrassed.
John chuckled, and they continued the interview. Some questions were about different religions, some about the Gates. Some asked why, if there was a God, was all this happening right now? Why didn't He just magically solve everything?
He did his job, gaslighting the living daylights out of them while sharing facts about what was currently happening—such as the world evolving by merging with different ones.
Of course, he did mention that they had had more than a decade and a half to prepare, but they had wasted their time and pinned the responsibility on their leaders, who had ignored all the signs.
By the time the hour finished and the interview came to an end, he had checked almost everything he wanted to.
"Thank you for agreeing to this interview, St. John. It has been a lot more informative than anyone expected," Justin said, his voice sounding tired.
"Of course. I am just doing my job, answering questions." John inclined his head and smiled knowingly. "And before we finish this, for those who are watching here in Rome, if you want to see a miracle, look at the sun."
"Why? What's happening?"
"Well, in about a minute, there won't be anyone left with any kind of illness in Rome."
The interview was suddenly cut as a strong golden light enveloped all of Rome. Courtesy of the original spending all his divine energy to create a bridge‑like connection between the sun and Rome, flooding the city with the purification and healing light of the Bright Lord.
Of course, the soul‑shaking effect that accompanied the miracle was just a side effect.
'Thank you, original,' he thought, as he walked out of the room, different sisters and priests accompanying him, their heads looking down as they headed to pray.
He too was not spared from the warm feeling, that tingly butterfly in my stomach kind of feeling that accompanied the brief display of divinity and miracles.
---
• Same time, ICW Building, Supreme Mugwump Office •
[Albus Dumbledore]
I slumped back into my chair, my mental exhaustion shooting through the roof. Using divinity to manifest a miracle while not having miracles as a domain was exhausting.
It was only thanks to me having the reactor core of my Archmage essence that I could even function right now.
Exhausting divinity is a lot different than exhausting magic or any other energy. Divinity, by design, is a higher level of energy, an authority—so the consequences of exhausting it are a lot harsher.
'I pity those gods…' I snickered as I felt my divine energy reserves regenerating by the second.
'Yeah, this is what I call cheating.'
Now I just have to focus on finalizing the squad of combatants I will be taking with me to the dungeon while I leave the handling of mundane stuff to my clones.
'Yeah. Just a few more days.'
X_