BOOM!
Thick, dark clouds crept across the London skyline, jagged bolts of lightning illuminating the grim cityscape in stark, repeated flashes.
"Oh my God…"
A policeman emerged from his vehicle, his overcoat buffeted by the humid wind and rain. Ignoring the weather, he gaped at the unnatural storm clouds overhead.
"Should we head over there, sir?" A young officer asked his seasoned superior.
"…"
The middle-aged policeman remained silent.
BOOM!
Like a torrential downpour in reverse, a concentrated surge of white lightning slammed into a single point below.
The young recruit stared, his face blank with disbelief. Then, the middle-aged officer smiled grimly. "What do you think?"
…
Collapsed buildings lay scattered like ruined cakes, the broken streets slick with black rainwater.
A human-shaped ice sculpture stood atop a bus crushed into a flattened heap, its head tilted back in a pose of terrified defiance.
"…"
Isolde, covered in wounds and encased in frost, was also bound by a Petrify Charm, rendering him mute and immobile. He could only watch helplessly as lightning illuminated the sky again and again, his heart pounding with despair.
Hovering in the air, Cassandra raised her wand high, calling down the lightning like a conductor.
Cassandra was somewhat disheveled; her alchemically enhanced clothes looked a little worn, and strands of golden hair clung to her face.
For Cassandra, this qualified as a mess, a thought that would infuriate Isolde if he knew it. He hadn't even managed to inflict any real damage!
Even when he'd broken through her magical defenses, his spells were useless against her alchemical protections.
Cassandra, wielding her specialized wand, already nearly matched him in raw power, and the sheer extravagance of her alchemical defenses overwhelmed Isolde so completely, he wouldn't even recognize himself.
Isolde raged internally; the difference between people was greater than that between people and animals. Cassandra, born into nobility, possessed looks, lineage, and talent that far surpassed the vast majority of wizards. Her Veela blood further narrowed the magical power gap between them.
Then, she had become Tom Riddle's apprentice, receiving personal tutelage from the most powerful wizard in the world. Before even graduating, her magical abilities rivaled those of some professors, and she possessed spells and combat techniques unknown to even renowned masters.
Finally, she wielded countless alchemical tools, including an incredibly potent, custom-made wand gifted to her by Tom Riddle.
How could he, Isolde, who had toiled for decades to reach this level, compete with that? He suddenly questioned everything.
With such advantages, Cassandra could be the protagonist of any other story.
He, Isolde, was merely an elite monster, a stepping-stone… The thought stung.
Why?! Why?! Why is she so lucky? While I had to cobble together dark magic, sacrificing my own soul and body, just to stand here!
The wizarding world had never been kind to Isolde. From the moment he became aware, he only had his older brother.
And his brother, whether for survival or some other reason, was a Dark wizard. Isolde couldn't attend Hogwarts like a normal child.
Owls did deliver letters, but his brother simply stewed the owls for dinner.
That was right when Tom Riddle was beginning to rise; his brother had spirited him away to avoid Hogwarts and its meddling professors, taking out loans to keep him in school...
Isolde suddenly wondered: if it weren't for his brother, things might have been different; perhaps he would have been trained as a white wizard.
But it was too late now. He'd done everything he should and shouldn't have: smuggling, murder, robbery, bombing Muggles… even capturing Muggles and wizards to experiment on in his pursuit of forbidden magic.
But all of it was to survive! Perhaps there was a bit of dark curiosity involved… but only the useless died! Was he really that bad?!
Why couldn't he have the same luck as this brat?!
If he were Tom Riddle's student, he could bomb the Ministry of Magic daily! He could do even better than this brat!
So!
He would not accept this!!!
Isolde roared inwardly, sneering… Is this fate?
No! He refused to accept it!!!
Isolde, frozen solid except for his mouth, yelled, "To hell with fate! My fate is in my own hands!!!"
BOOM—!
Countless bolts of lightning converged and blasted him deep into the ground, beyond recovery.
"This guy…"
Cassandra landed, a look of confusion on her face. "What was he shouting about just now?"
…
Amidst the battle between the old and new Death Eaters… or rather, the one-sided massacre, Theo reclined in a sun lounger, sipping coffee, watching the dark, stormy clouds in the distance.
Behind him, Aurors waited to manage the aftermath: repairing the damage and erasing Muggle memories.
They seemed relaxed. They'd done this before.
Large-scale exposures of the magical world weren't uncommon.
They'd already summoned a Thunderbird; its rainstorm would solve everything.
Simple and easy… they didn't have to risk their lives; just cleanup work.
Time passed slowly.
Until Theo's secretary returned. "Minister, Miss Volle's situation has been resolved."
"Good!"
Theo rose. "Release the Thunderbirds!"
"But Minister…"
One of the Aurors hesitated. "The other prisoners haven't been caught yet. Isn't it too early to erase Muggle memories?"
"Too early? What do you mean?"
Cassandra was finished, so the weather wouldn't be affected. Releasing the Thunderbirds now was perfect.
Besides… "You can help catch the rest. It won't take much effort."
Even if Tom Riddle's henchmen didn't need help, offering it would be a good way to earn favor with Tom Riddle.
Theo's eyes gleamed with calculation.
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