Standing outside the MCCC's office waiting for their papers to be processed and returned through the small hatch in the iron doors so that they could be given permission to enter inside, Loki looked calmly at the MCCC on the other side of the door, whose body had been converted into a simple host for what was a...
'...demigod.' Loki thought softly.
The Shadows were dense and collected and he could distinctly feel a vague gaze upon him through them. The feeling was so evident that Loki could even feel the hint of divinity leaking out of them.
'Looks like the artefact that Grindelwald gave them all doesn't work that well on Demigods…'
But then Loki paused.
'No…that can't be the case. I didn't find any other demigods on the way…'
'So only this one's artefact was broken?'
'Or this Demigod in particular lost control or has less control over his artefact?'
Loki almost frowned but managed to keep his expressions in check as he continued thinking.
'...oh…is it because of the True Creator's influence at the edge of the Shadow World just recently to expel those Shadow Creatures that caused this guy to lose control slightly?'
'Well, either way, that just makes my job easier.'
Having come all this way here by parasitising and turning various Hanged Man Pathway members into marionettes, Loki had a decent grasp of their thinking.
And as such, he could easily guess just what the Demigods would do once they saw him.
The first thing they'd do was 'listen'. To try and gauge their opponent. To try and understand what made him better, to construct the perfect plan to make him expose his weaknesses and then smother him with the perfect counters crafted out of a varying combination of grazed souls of Beyonders.
And so, even before they stepped into the most important office in the Launch Facility, Loki split off a bunch of worms of time from his Mythical Creature form and let them be teleported into the room after he stole their position and reassigned it with one of the badges on the MCCC's chest.
It was an easy operation, one that went entirely unnoticed because Loki wrapped those Worms of Time in wisps of Grey Fog from the Sefirah Castle.
And so the game began.
The worms began to 'transmit' mysticism knowledge regarding the True Creator into the vicinity of the MCCC. Not just speak them out loud, but actually transmit the knowledge directly into the surroundings as compulsive thoughts, filled with the emotion of curiosity and the desire to know more, like a free wifi-router doing its best to attract all the people to a coffee shop.
Nothing truly important as the Honorific name this time since Loki was sure that even if he used an incomplete one he might end up summoning the attention of the true mad god who seemed to be hovering at the edge of the battlefield for some reason.
Instead, Loki used his wisdom of writing newspaper headlines.
'The True Creator's True Name Revealed! The Fallen Creator!'
'How to speed up an evil God's descent!'
'Shocking!! The True Creator Was Aborted!'
Each headline was more interesting than the last, making sure that the 'knowledge' was tempting enough for the person that came in contact with them that they'd expose themselves by clicking on it, or in this case, wanting to know more.
And in doing so, they'd allow Loki to easily pinpoint where the knowledge went so that he could capture them after delivering an even greater shock to their minds.
Except.
THUMP
A harsh sound of something hitting the heavy metal doors rang out from the inside causing Loki to frown as he felt a stinging pain in a part of his mind, soul and body while simultaneously feeling a sense of weakening wash over him.
'Shit!'
'Was that a trap?' Loki cursed in his mind at the fact that the spirit thread's he'd just attached his parasites to had been almost instantly 'killed' as soon as they merged to take over the Demigod's bodies.
In the same moment, the shadows across the hallways flickered lightly before expanding suddenly as if something was being pushed outwards against them from the inside, making them bloated and stretchy.
Several smooshed and distorted faces popped up on the skin of the shadow, making things look like someone was trying to push through a piece of plastic, however slowly, no matter how they tried to push through, the plastic just wouldn't give up.
And so, the barrage of Shadow creatures that were about to walk into the narrow shadowy tunnel were blocked off by Loki who had used the Mentor of Deceit Characteristic to deceive the boundary between the shadows and the real world in a short region around him, blocking anyone trying to exit or enter it for the moment.
Chadwick meanwhile stood calmly. Watching the door with great interest, as if nothing around them was of any consequence to him, as if nothing around him was even moving at all.
He had been deceived.
The attacks didn't stop there.
Almost immediately the air around them grew thick with blood. Physical blood. Taking on a reddish hue as a thin bloody mist slipped out from underneath the little cracks of the metal doors, from the hinges, the handles, the lip, and from every other gap that separated the MCCC's room inside from the corridor outside.
The shadows from earlier stopped morphing according to the bodies contained within it and instead split off from the mass as flesh began to coalesce along with it to form a humanoid creature of flesh and blood!
Loki flicked his hand almost instantly.
His aim being one thing! To perform a theft!
The birthing creature suddenly stumbled as its forming hind limbs suddenly lost a chunk of the flesh that was being used to create its muscles, making its skeletal shadow structure visible as it fell onto them and began to collapse before it could even fully stand!
Loki had stolen some of its flesh!
However, that had never been the Demigod's plan in the first place! The open formation of a Flesh and Blood Servant was only a distraction!
Loki's all round vision warned him of the true attack almost immediately but it was too late.
A large shadowy eye opened up right above Loki's head as it shot out a dense beam of compressed information.
The beam hit Loki almost instantly, however he barely had time to react, even as he sent a diffindo to slice the eye, causing the beam to fizzle out after drowning his entire body in itself, he was still left busy.
Instead, Loki was left pointing his wand at another random spot mid air while his body began to mutate with chunks of his blood slowly clotting as his skin started to turn red first, then purple and finally black before it started peeling off into fleshy bits and chunks and dropping to the ground like he was decaying.
A blood dripping rose made out of freshly cut flesh was already flying towards him from the direction he was pointing his wand.
'So one of the Demigods has grazed someone from the White Tower Pathway.' Loki concluded given the unique nature of the attack where corruption was 'directly' transmitted into Loki's body, something like what he'd just done.
However instead of simply corrupting his mind, it had corrupted his body directly.
Loki however was not alarmed, or at least tried his best not to be since he could guess that this was only a temporary setback.
Although, he didn't get much of a choice in the matter since the flesh rose that had been thrown at him when he was being drowned by the light had finally reached him.
He couldn't steal the rose as that was the same as accepting the bribe. He could have used the Mentor of Deceit characteristics to deceive the time for its activation, but he was still keeping the Shadow Creatures slamming themselves into the shadow wall at bay.
Even if they might've been a distraction earlier, they were a real threat. Loki didn't know what kind of creatures could end up on this side since summoning one was always a gamble.
Above all Loki didn't want to open the gates to the True Creator, regardless of his reasons for staying put in the Shadow World and not stepping outside to directly get him.
Instead he accepted the bribe because he had a better plan.
And so with his wand primed with spirituality trained at the spot in the air and spoke in a sharp tone-
'Velox Acus'
The effect was instant.
The second Demigod who had been hiding in the air turned visible as a sharp crack broke his invisibility.
He was crouching on a broom, touching the ceiling, as he clutched his head and coughed blood.
But Loki frowned with distaste as he noted, 'So he wasn't using a simple disillusionment charm after all…'
Loki's current Velox Acus, while not as powerfully charged as the one he'd used on Voldemort, shouldn't have caused such little reaction on a Beyonder who was on a pathway prone to madness, especially since the Beyonder didn't have any of Voldemort's excellent Occlumency skills or even an Outer God to protect his mind from corruption.
At least that was the case the last time Loki had used the spell on a Demigod of the Aurora Order, Mr. X.
He'd died a pitiful death for his rank in the pecking order of Beyonders.
But now…
Now the same pecking order was being rearranged since his previously deadly spell wasn't working as intended.
A coincidence? Loki didn't think so.
It would've been one thing if he could see the magic since Loki could accept that there could be someone better than him at it, but to be so good that he couldn't even detect them using spells or spirit vision?
It wasn't as if the newly unveiled Demigod's mind was shrouded in a dense layer of Occlumency Defences.
No. It was as open as the sky on a plain summer day.
Loki could waltz in and waltz out as he wished, barring risking himself to corruption after spotting the True Creator in the man's memories.
Then why hadn't his spell worked?
There could only be one other solution to the matter. It involved Beyonder means.
An item?
No. Loki didn't spot anything remotely valuable on the Demigod's body other than the spirit thread hiding artefact.
So the only other option was that the Demigod had grazed a Sequence 5 Wraith of the Chained Pathway, someone that had an inherent defence against being mentally befuddled.
After all, their spirit was strong enough to allow them to live and move around freely for a while even after their head was detached.
Wraiths could turn invisible too.
And so Loki concluded that one of the souls Demigod 2 must've grazed was at least Wraith.
It suddenly dawned on Loki just how troublesome this fight was going to be.
'...how many souls can a Demigod of the Hanged man pathway graze again?'
'Nine?'
It felt rather daunting and the burden grew.
Since Loki had to finish this battle fast.
At least before the Sequence 3 Templar arrived so that his trap could be perfectly positioned.
And he had to do it all without risking the Demigods to madness.
…
Hermione looked around herself in confusion.
She had no idea what she had to do.
She very clearly understood that this was all just some sort of a mental simulation, a dream or otherwise, but she couldn't figure out what she had to do to break out of it.
For the nth time Hermione watched as Daphne exploded right in front of her.
Her arm stretched out a little as she watched Daphne's eyes turn hollow before she exploded into bits and pieces of fine mist, spraying onto her face and into her eyes before it all turned black and the cycle restarted once again.
Hermione found herself a minute before Daphne was set to 'explode'.
She had originally, at the end of the last school year, been fighting through the hordes of out of control Beyonders at this point, trying to kill them to stay alive, running about, trying to find the smallest ways she could contribute to this messed up world all by herself.
It had been her purpose before…before she wanted to see Daphne again.
But looking at it now it all looked so childish.
Contribute to this messed up world? Leave a mark?
When even a being as great as the Mr. Error, who seemingly had an entire Epoch delayed and named only for his Rebirth, had so many troubles getting his name out there after it had been forgotten from history…could she, a mere Sequence 7, those who were dime a dozen truly do anything?
Hermione shook her head off such depressing thoughts and dodged another blow from a corrupted Beyonder as she made her way to Daphne, in hopes of finding a way to break out of this accursed spell.
'How was this…thing even made?'
'I don't think my memories contain so much detail…' Hermione thought as she felt the strange premonition of danger each time she intended to activate her spirit vision.
She didn't dare do it.
Even if this was all really a dream.
For the fear that her subconscious truly remembered such frightening things that could corrupt kept her choosing not to.
Simultaneously she was also wondering how such things hadn't already corrupted her if she did truly remember them.
'Did someone mess with my memories?'
'...'
'No that can not be the case. Mr. Error would've noticed.'
After dodging a few more whips of pain being used on her in conjunction with bribes being thrown at her in the form of pieces of flesh which she had to dodge by simply teleporting through doors, Hermione reached Daphne's location.
The world quietened unnaturally after that, as if giving her space to relive her deepest wounds before Daphne exploded.
Just like that.
In a shower of flesh, spraying blood on her face and into her eyes as the world faded before she was allowed to return to the start of the whole thing.
'...just what is it that I have to do here?!' Hermione asked herself frustratedly as she barely dodged a new whip of pain.
She'd tried to 'think' of not dodging during the first few runs, but the painful sensation of having her soul be wound in a barbed whip wasn't something she was keen on bearing, imaginary or not.
'How do I even know what those whips will even feel like!? It's not like I've even ever been hit by them!'
Hermione created a new door, teleported to Daphne and still found that she'd arrived just in time for her closest friend to explode.
As if the entire memory was just mocking her.
Telling her effort no matter how well timed or placed was going to be worthless in the end.
'...'
Hermione stood defeated.
It had been a good couple dozen tries until now.
And she hadn't stumbled upon a single lead.
And with no clue on how to save Daphne, Hermione finally snapped.
This time instead of fighting to go to her, Hermione chose the easy way out, she created a door, teleported right into her home and flung herself under the cover of her blanket.
One could vaguely see the trembling of the contours as it shifted slightly under the moonlight, but Hermione didn't let out a sound.
Her break was cut short however when Hermione realised Daphne had died again and she'd found herself back at the start.
Only this time with a slightly scrunched up expression that was holding back tears that didn't exist.
"Aggh-"
…
Belmont stood at the foot of the mountain.
'Huh?'
'I feel like this has happened before?'
He couldn't quite put it, but he had this feeling like he'd felt this exact feeling of feeling deja vu before.
The view of the mansion that sat at the peak under the thundering clouds seemed 'familiar'.
'Well it should be familiar, I'd be worried if it wasn't…' Belmont told himself something he'd already told himself several times before as he continued walking to the top.
He walked on the main pathway turned untrodden which indicated that though thoroughly visible, the mansion was rarely visited, while humming a simple tune he'd heard from his mother when he was a wee little baby, while his mind recited the song he'd thought he'd long forgotten but somehow still remembered today.
'Horn blows the Bill and Horn blows the Keet'
'Both go up the hill and Both go with feet'
'Hopping to the mill and Hopping to the beat'
'Bop goes the bill and Bop goes the cheat'
'Happy with their ends to meet and Happy with their ends to meet'
It wasn't a particularly good poem for a child to have heard, but growing up as a vampire wasn't a particularly 'happy' job. And so each Vampire mother often told this poem to their younglings, hoping that they'd become wise like Bill and not ever 'have fun', or they'd get labeled a cheat and be sent somewhere to have their ends met.
It was of paramount importance in the cult of Vampires that no Vampire ever acted like one.
Firstly because the Muggles would get too scared and come wielding silver bullets and holding crosses. But secondly because advancing along the Vampire pathway simply meant death.
As long as you weren't approved to grow stronger by the Elder council, even collecting funds for the ingredients of the next potion was seen as treason and reason enough to be sentenced to a beheading.
Of course, Vampires that didn't interact much with the outside world didn't know about the acting method and so to them it was just a silly little poem.
But not for Belmont.
He worked for the Ministry.
Under Madam Bones, someone who'd rescued him years prior when his mum had been killed by a Vampire Elder, his father, who'd gone mad mid way through.
And ever since then, Madam Bones had given him a spot at the Ministry after looking at his pitiful status. Of course, Madam Bones even only knew he existed because she was friends with his mum before, at Hogwarts when his mum hadn't been turned.
And right now Belmont was about to go back to the Elders of the family that murdered his mother to discuss with them something, much like Madam Bones had done for him years prior.
Belmont stepped into the manor wordlessly.
There were no guards.
Anyone daring enough to have come in here was either a meal or allowed to come in by the Elder in the Manor, anyone else would've been sacrificed before they even knew what had happened.
He walked through the corridors, familiar with the surroundings since their layout seemed fresh in his mind.
'Another deja vu?'
'...'
'What a strange day.'
Belmont continued humming the other verses, feeling the song unusually clear today as he chalked it up to a faint figment of his imagination like the deja vu from earlier.
Belmont's eyes paused at several corners of the manor, noticing the little details he'd carved into the marble stone using his nails while he waited patiently for his mother to pick him up.
A few scratches from when he was dragged away by the shadows and beaten up thoroughly for simply snacking on blood flavoured lollipops too loud, a deep gash from when he'd accidentally cracked the marble after being thrashed because he had sneezed on the ingredients for a brew and 'ruined' them.
The lights dimmed as he stepped down the stairs, walking faster and faster as his steps echoed through the mostly empty corridors.
Eventually he reached the cellars, standing in front of an ornate and heavy marble gate filled with carvings of 'beautiful' women.
He was about to raise his hand to knock but before he could-
"Come in." An aged voice sounded from inside.
Taking a deep breath to suppress his frustrating anger at the voice, Belmont exhaled with a sigh and stepped into the room after pushing the heavy doors open.
Inside was an old man resting in a coffin.
He looked like he had a foot in the grave, his eyes ran over Belmont's body sending a slight chill up his spine.
Irreconcilably for Belmont however, the old man gave off a feeling of warmth and acceptance, much like the irradiant full moon.
"Belmont…it's good to-"
"I'm here for this." Belmont said softly as he placed the letter in his hands on the Elder's desk which was in front of his coffin.
The Elder gave him a wry smile as he mumbled under his breath, "Not even going to greet your grandfather?"
The Elder slowly stood up, his every move sending a creak through the coffin's aged wood as he pushed himself and picked up the letter placed just out of his reach.
There was a hint of grace in his movements, as if every movement was meant for show. An exaggerated ritual of expression and affection to the wind around him.
Picking up the letter and looking at the Wizengamot crest on it he frowned.
And even before he opened it he looked up at Belmont with a frown, "Is this about Severus?"
Belmont looked straight in the Elder's eyes and nodded without hesitation.
The elder sighed deeply, the dim lighting catching his wrinkles and making him look even older as he slumped back into his coffin.
He stuffed the letter into the side of his coffin before speaking softly, a single word that was his answer.
"No."
He then closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Belmont however stood right there.
He didn't move.
Not even after thirty minutes.
And when the Elder finally couldn't take it anymore he said, "Fine."
A hint of a smile appeared on Belmont's face but it vanished just as quickly as it arrived. He turned around with the same frown he'd walked in and walked out of the room.
Suddenly however-
"Huh!?"
-the shadows all around him deepened, darkened and then engulfed the world before Belmonot found himself at the start once again.
He stood at the foot of the mountain.
'Huh?'
'I feel like this has happened before?'
…
Ron looked at the short menagerie he'd created in the short time he'd spent trapped in his 'childhood'. It was strange since he still had his adult body, but he spent his time around the house doing things he used to do when he was a kid.
Getting scolded by mom. Eating.
Getting scolded by mom. Playing.
Staring at the Weasley Clock.
Getting scolded by mom. Eating.
Getting scolded by mom. Playing.
Staring at the Weasley Clock.
Getting scolded by mom. Eating.
Getting scolded by mom. Sleeping.
It was a fun time of watching over the memories of his family that seemed to have come alive in the confines of his mind, of this spell, but only for a few days since-
The days never passed by, that, he was sure off.
Since each day he woke up he'd find himself back on the day Fred and George had pranked him during his childhood by turning his favourite stuffed teddy into a 'large' acromantula spider.
Ron had already tried-
- Killing the spider.
- Brewing a potion with the spider eye.
- Cooking the spider.
- Even eating the spider after a few hundred days.
But nothing had broken it.
Nothing had broken this loop.
And so he'd declared his previous life a figment of his imagination while living this life to its fullest.
Of course, such a resolve didn't even last a day before he'd kicked himself into shape to think of a solution to get out of this problem.
'...Hermione is probably in danger… and if she is not, then she's probably worried…and I need to help everyone else anyway…what would they ever do without the great me!!??'
With that thought, Ron focused his entire mind and came up with a list of solutions and started trying them out one by one, one iteration after the other.
He didn't have any extra ordinary wizarding skills or any extra ordinary Beyonder abilities.
So all he had left was using his mind to brute force things.
Ron looked at his assistant-
"So Mr. Hairy Eight Eyes. Ready to see who'll win?"
-and asked while looking it in all its eight eyes.
The transfigured spider, a product of accidental magic from Fred, quivered. It could feel that whatever was about to happen next was something wicked.
Ron pulled out a garden gnome from his pocket and placed it on the same table as the spider.
He prodded the garden gnome a little to get its attention since it was still a little dizzy from having been twirled around before it was picked up so that it could be stored silently.
The Gnome blinked for a few seconds before spotting the spider in front of it and looking at it with delight!
Free food!
Who could say no to that after all.
Just as the gnome was about to rush at the spider however, Ron grabbed it by the head, holding it in place for a second as he gave the spider a soft look of pity since it had been subject to the most inhumane of experiments until now.
'....'
But then Ron quickly shook his head.
"No! How can I feel pity for my enemy!"
And the gnome was allowed to rush towards the spider again.
The ensuing battle was short.
The dumb spider couldn't do much else other than sit around and look at things. So it only squealed as it was eaten alive by the gnome before the world went black and Ron woke up again.
Right beside his spider as it sat there on his face, mocking him, and telling him just how fruitless his efforts to escape it were.
"Damn spiders…"
"...I'm starting to truly hate them…"
…