"I plan to place the Philosopher's Stone in a secret location and have the professors from each department set up various protective measures for it," Dumbledore said softly.
Victor looked at Dumbledore in astonishment. "If you really want to protect the Stone... shouldn't the number of people who know its location be kept as small as possible? Unless you... have other plans."
If Dumbledore truly wanted to safeguard the Philosopher's Stone, he could have simply kept it himself. That way, if Voldemort wanted to find it, he would have to deal with Dumbledore directly.
That would be no easy feat.
But now, Dumbledore was involving the professors... didn't that mean every single one of them would know where the Stone was?
Dumbledore's long fingers gently brushed over the parcel containing the Stone on his desk. He remained silent.
Suddenly, Victor understood Dumbledore's intent.
The Philosopher's Stone was merely bait... or rather, from the moment Nicolas Flamel decided to hand it over to Dumbledore, he had planned to use it as a lure, even if he didn't yet have absolute proof that Voldemort was still alive.
"Professor... you really are playing the long game, aren't you?" Victor remarked with a sigh.
"I am very old, Victor," Dumbledore sighed. "I can feel that Voldemort is not yet dead... and if he stays hidden until I grow even more infirm, or even pass away... very few will be able to truly threaten him. So, I want to draw him out while I can still brandish my wand and finish him for good. Thus, I made a seemingly idle move... and as it turns out, it worked."
"So letting Hagrid go and fetch the Stone was also part of your calculation... because he has a bit of a big mouth," Victor said helplessly.
Dumbledore had mentioned to Victor before that he originally planned for Hagrid to collect the Stone.
Looking back, that arrangement had its own logic. Given Hagrid's personality, he wasn't exactly built for keeping secrets. A couple of drinks, and he'd likely start blabbing and leak the news of the Stone.
Moreover, Dumbledore had informed all the professors about the Stone from the very beginning—before it had even reached Gringotts!
He practically broadcasted its existence to anyone who might be listening.
As it turned out, everything went according to plan. Voldemort appeared to have encountered Quirrell and extracted information about the Stone from him.
"Hagrid can be quite endearing at times," Dumbledore said softly.
"I wonder if the big fellow would appreciate that description," Victor joked. "So why did you switch to me for the retrieval later on?"
"Because I knew you would certainly study the Stone and reach the same conclusion I did... so I modified my plan slightly." Dumbledore looked at Victor, his gaze piercing.
A smile suddenly touched Victor's face. "So you anticipated all along that I would create a replica of the Philosopher's Stone..."
"And that you would certainly tamper with it," Dumbledore added with a smile.
"I see... no wonder Mr. Flamel was so prompt in offering his assistance. It was all because of you," Victor chuckled.
"It appears you've succeeded," Dumbledore said.
The two shared a look, both smiling quite deviously.
"So, in your plan, Voldemort will eventually get his hands on the Stone," Victor said.
"He will get your Stone," Dumbledore corrected.
"Then what about this one?" Victor pointed to the Stone before them. "Where do you plan to hide it?"
Dumbledore gave the Stone a gentle push toward him. "It's yours."
Victor was stunned. "What do you mean, 'it's mine'?"
"It means you are now the owner of this Philosopher's Stone," Dumbledore said succinctly.
Victor jumped up again. "Are you saying you're not asking me to hide it, but simply giving it to me?"
"Clearly," Dumbledore said calmly. "Nicolas and I are in agreement—only you would not abuse its power."
Victor stared intently at Dumbledore. "Professor, tell me the truth. Did you notice something?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Your face hasn't changed a bit in over ten years... and back then, Tom also placed an unimaginable level of trust in you. Knowing Tom, he wouldn't trust anyone easily unless... that person possessed a secret he couldn't refuse. And considering what Tom is most obsessed with... the answer becomes quite obvious."
Voldemort used to boast to his servants that he had traveled further along the path of immortality than anyone could imagine. How could Dumbledore not know of Voldemort's obsession? It was hardly surprising he had pieced it together.
For a moment, Victor was speechless.
Dumbledore's gaze suddenly turned very gentle. "...Your future is destined to be a lonely one. That is why I have spoken so much to you about the power of 'love'... because I know your future will truly require that strength to sustain you. I can only imagine the pain of seeing your friends and loved ones pass away one by one before you... I imagine you've already noticed this, which is why you've been so reluctant to make friends, and why you only ever scratch the surface even when dating girls."
Watching the pity in Dumbledore's eyes, Victor fell silent.
As time passed, he had long noticed his own abnormality. Over a decade had gone by, yet his face remained unchanged.
No matter how poorly he treated his body, he never fell ill...
He had simply been choosing to avoid the issue.
Now, the truth he had been running from was laid bare by Dumbledore.
Maybe my transmigration into this world was just a patch, a mod.
As long as this world exists, my piece of code will continue to run.
A sense of despair suddenly washed over Victor, and the loneliness he had previously managed to ignore was instantly magnified.
"There's no need to overthink it, Victor. Just remember to cherish the present and the scenery along the way. That is enough..." Dumbledore looked at the young man he had picked up off the street years ago, his eyes full of heartache.
A bitter smile crossed Victor's face. "It's not all bad news, Professor. At the very least, code can still be crashed by a Trojan horse..."
Seeing Dumbledore's confusion, Victor didn't explain further.
However, he was certain of one thing... when he had lived long enough, the final Killing Curse of his life would be aimed at himself. Just like Nicolas Flamel.