[ROAR!!!]
A terrifying roar shook the heavens!
As a deck of cards transformed into streaks of black shadows, Ethan Vincent raised his hand. His wand, now shaped like a slender paintbrush, slashed through the air. It was as if he were tearing through the very fabric of space, leaving a jagged, pitch-black ink stain suspended in mid-air.
Boom!
The blinding green light of the Killing Curse struck the rift and was instantly swallowed whole. A burst of light flared for a fraction of a second before vanishing into the void.
The audience erupted into a chaotic frenzy.
Everyone surged to their feet, eyes wide with disbelief as they stared at the tall, elegant figure standing at the center of the stage.
"Merlin's beard! Did I just see that? Did that man just... block a Killing Curse?!"
"That's impossible! I've never heard of such a spell in my life!"
"Mr. Lamp? Who is he? I've never heard of a wizard by that name..."
Vinda Rosier, the one who had cast the curse, narrowed her eyes, her brow furrowed in genuine shock. A moment later, her expression darkened, replaced by a murderous, predatory glint.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
A crisp, rhythmic sound of applause rose above the din. Within seconds, the crowd fell silent.
"A truly magnificent display of magic... Mr. Lamp," Gellert Grindelwald said, lowering his hands.
His voice carried a tone of sincere admiration, as if that lethal exchange had been nothing more than a lighthearted jest between friends. He stared at the young man who had appeared without warning, his gaze lingering on the flickering black rift that pulsed with an ominous, surging energy.
It looked like a doorway leading straight to hell.
Behind that eerily smooth, pure white mask, Grindelwald could not see the boy's face, let alone read his thoughts. It was as if a Muggle truck had suddenly veered off course and smashed into the path of destiny, erupting out of nowhere in this dark cemetery.
Dangerous.
Extremely dangerous.
In fact, this boy felt infinitely more perilous than the Obscurial host Grindelwald so desperately craved.
And at the same time, he was infinitely more precious.
A hint of greed flickered in Grindelwald's eyes. He wasn't looking at Ethan as a person, but as a pivotal, crowning piece in his grand design.
"I can see that you are unique, esteemed Mr. Lamp," Grindelwald said, spreading his arms and gesturing for his followers to lower their wands. "I can also see that you, too, have suffered under heartless and unjust persecution."
Well, obviously, Ethan thought. With a look this creepy and magic this unsettling, you'd have to be a ghost to be accepted by polite society.
Grindelwald clenched his fists, his brow twitching as he turned to look at the Aurors lurking in the shadows. His voice turned raspy and pained. "Those rigid, narrow-minded wizards... they torture us simply because we dare to seek the truth, because we wish to find a better way!"
"Has the harm Muggles caused us not been enough? Must we, as fellow wizards, continue to tear each other apart?!"
Like a drop of hot oil falling into a roaring fire, the atmosphere shifted instantly. Passion, rage, and a sense of belonging—emotions spread like wildfire, boiling over in response to Grindelwald's rhetoric. A silent, crushing pressure began to weigh down on the Aurors, leaving them tense and slick with cold sweat.
"He's lying," Newt Scamander whispered, biting his lip as he glared at Grindelwald. "He's the one who started the conflict, the one who orchestrated the attacks... how can he twist it to make it the Muggles' and the Aurors' fault?"
"He only speaks the 'facts' that serve him," his companion, Tina, murmured, her eyes filled with tension and dread. "But what worries me more is that masked man who just appeared."
As a former Auror, Tina's instincts were razor-sharp. The moment she saw the black-haired youth, every alarm bell in her head began to scream. It was as if she were looking at a Dark Wizard on par with Grindelwald... no, perhaps even more terrifying.
Visions of smoke billowed from Grindelwald's mouth—images of tanks, artillery, and massive war machines grinding over the heads of the wizards, drawing cries of horror from the crowd.
Grindelwald turned back, reaching out a hand toward Ethan across the blinding, magnificent backdrop of a conjured mushroom cloud. Ignoring the churning black rift, he spoke with a voice full of seductive promise.
"Join us, Mr. Lamp. Join the Acolytes. Let us use our own hands to create a future that belongs solely to wizards!"
"Everything... for the Greater Good."
"For the Greater Good!" Vinda Rosier echoed, her face flushed with a near-ecstatic fervor.
Ethan looked down at the outstretched hand.
Grindelwald's gaze was certain and arrogant, as if by simply shaking his hand, the entire wizarding world would be theirs to command. It was easy to see why the downtrodden, the lost, and the elitists saw Gellert Grindelwald as their salvation and supreme leader.
After a long silence, Ethan finally moved.
He didn't take the hand, nor did he immediately pull away. Instead, he tilted his head and asked, "I have only one question."
Grindelwald held his position, nodding with immense patience.
"In this beautiful future you've painted... does darkness exist?"
Hearing this, Grindelwald's lips curled into a smirk. Given the stranger's alias and appearance, he figured he knew exactly what answer the boy wanted to hear.
"No, my friend," Grindelwald said confidently. "I promise you, in a world led by wizards, there will be no place for darkness!"
"Oh, is that so..." Ethan replied softly.
He lowered his head. Just as Grindelwald's smile began to widen, Ethan slowly raised his hand.
Smack!
He loudly slapped Grindelwald's hand away.
"Then I refuse."
Ethan met Grindelwald's frozen smile with a look of mock seriousness. "If there is no darkness, what is the point of a 'Lamp'? Without the diligent efforts of the wicked to serve as my fuel, the light of the Lamp cannot endure!"
"Good heavens! Without darkness, I wouldn't even know how to finish my latest masterpiece, Stewing Evil Souls in a Cauldron!" Ethan shook his head exaggeratedly, hugging himself as if he were a poor, fragile cabbage caught in a frost. "Light and dark are born from one another. I never imagined you would long for such a terrifying, artificial world..."
"Or perhaps," Ethan turned to look at the now ice-cold Grindelwald, his tone turning light and airy, "your promise itself is a lie?"
A vein throbbed in Grindelwald's neck. Beside him, Rosier froze in terror, her face turning pale. The Master... is furious.
In the stands, the audience watched the masked boy in stunned silence. The previous heat and passion vanished instantly, replaced by the realization that they were dealing with someone who didn't follow the rules of human logic.
He feels... not quite human. Maybe we should run, some thought, exchanging hesitant glances. Ethan's words were like a stone shattering glass, causing their unwavering faith to waver.
"I've never seen Grindelwald make that face before!" Newt's eyes went wide, a grin breaking across his face. "Haha! He looks like he just swallowed a bowl of slugs!"
Pure satisfaction!
"Be serious!" Tina hissed, her face grim. "I have a very bad feeling about this... Grindelwald looks like he's about to kill someone."
She wasn't exaggerating. A second later, a raspy, bone-chilling laugh erupted from the stage.
"Heh... hehehe..." Grindelwald slowly withdrew his hand, his shoulders trembling with mirth. "I truly admire you, Mr. Lamp... I admire your fearless courage."
When he looked up, the laughter was gone. His eyes were cold, filled with a singular, murderous intent.
"In your next life, try to learn the art of diplomacy."
The words had barely left his lips when—
BOOM!!!
A torrent of fierce, ghostly blue flames erupted like a soaring dragon, instantly sweeping toward Ethan and engulfing him in a sea of fire!
"Aaahhh!"
Screams broke out as wizards scrambled backward. Those too close were incinerated instantly, reduced to ash by the magical fire. Only a few of the inner circle managed to push through the flames to stand by Grindelwald's side.
"...I didn't want to be this violent. At least not until the message had spread," Grindelwald murmured, his heterochromatic eyes reflecting the shimmering blue ocean of flame. "I didn't expect a small... accident."
"No matter. Even prophecies have their oversights. Once this little distraction is removed, it won't change the outcome."
Grindelwald turned away dismissively. He looked toward the young man who had broken away from his companions—the Obscurial host who had endured so much pain—now walking toward him. It was like a wolf watching its prey walk into its jaws.
His lips curled. He spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Welcome home, my child. Unlike that attention-seeking clown, you are the one who will truly overturn this dark world—"
He didn't finish.
Grindelwald's pupils suddenly contracted. He snapped his wand up, magic flaring as he collided with a dark shadow hurtling through the air. The sheer force of the impact sent him stumbling back several steps!
"—Who are you calling a clown?"
Out of the roaring blue flames, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, a horrifying figure soared into the sky!
[SCREECH—!]
A piercing cry, like a wailing infant, tore through the stagnant air. A massive shadow loomed over the crowd, casting tattered, skeletal black wings across their vision. Two points of frigid soul-fire ignited within the hollow sockets of a rotting skull. In its withered arms, it gripped a silver-white staff that looked like an instrument of divine judgment.
Part human, part bird, a grotesque fusion of death and rebirth—this monster, which should never have existed in the mortal realm, stood before them all.
But it wasn't over.
[ROAR!]
With a savage, brutal howl, a mountain-sized figure stepped slowly out of the flames. Its pitch-black fur was singed by the fire, revealing raw patches of flesh. Yet, it seemed to feel no pain; if anything, the agony only fueled its bloodlust.
Three massive heads thrashed and snarled! Strings of saliva dripped from three cavernous maws, and six orange-yellow eyes, the size of copper bells, fixed on Grindelwald with a cruel hunger.
There was no doubt—at a single word from its master, it would tear everything in sight to shreds.
And there were more.
Hard, black-scaled dragon claws, writhing suction-cupped tentacles, a giant stag's head that let out a raspy, mocking chuckle...
It was as if the gates of hell had been flung wide. Blasphemous, wicked creations continued to march out of that ink-black rift, stepping through the flames as if participating in a grand infernal procession.
It was a living tapestry of hell itself.
"Are... are those Fantastic Beasts too...?" Tina, the former Auror, stammered. Her legs, which had intended to move forward to help, were frozen in place.
She received no answer. She turned to Newt, but his face told her everything.
"...Unless we've already died and are standing in the underworld," Newt swallowed hard.
As a Magizoologist, he could tell at a glance that these monsters were magical constructs. More specifically... they were made of paint. On closer inspection, the lifelike fur had an unnatural sheen, and the blending of colors revealed subtle brushstrokes. If Newt hadn't spent his life studying creatures, he never would have noticed.
Made of paint? How is that possible?
Newt gripped his wand, praying silently. Merlin, please... don't let 'Mr. Lamp' be our enemy. Better yet, let's hope he has nothing to do with us at all!
"We have to tell Professor Dumbledore about this 'Mr. Lamp'!" Newt whispered urgently.
"Yeah," Tina nodded, her voice grim. "But first, we have to get out of here alive."
Inside the sea of blue fire, the sound of rhythmic footsteps echoed.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The flames lunged at the newcomer like wild beasts, only to be toyed with like harmless pets, swirling around his fingers as he casually manipulated them.
Whoosh!
A pair of polished leather boots stepped through the fire, coming to a halt before the Acolytes. Ethan, wearing his pure white mask, tipped the brim of his hat toward them.
"Excellent technique, Mr. Grindelwald," Ethan praised. "It really helped me stretch my muscles."
"You!" Rosier's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. She raised her wand to strike, but Grindelwald blocked her path with his arm. She froze, biting her lip in fury, glaring at Ethan as if she wanted to devour him whole.
"Incredible... what incredible power! Mr. Lamp!!" Grindelwald's voice trembled. His eyes were wide with a shivering, fanatical heat.
Looking at Ethan standing in the heart of the hellfire, he felt as though he were facing a being from a higher plane of existence. Surrounded by towering monsters, the "small" boy was clearly the most terrifying thing there.
Only a greater monster could control such horrors. Any ordinary wizard would have been drained of their magic and killed by the strain in seconds.
"A higher state of being... I see. You are no longer a mere mortal like us... There is something beyond the wizarding rank!" Grindelwald murmured, unable to look away from Ethan. He gazed up at the massive creatures surrounding the boy as if he were a believer witnessing a descending god.
Even when his most loyal follower, Vinda Rosier, stepped forward in concern, he impatiently shoved her aside.
A better world? That was just an excuse for his rule. He wanted a world for wizards because he was a wizard, not a Muggle. Being the top of the world was just a dream for the foolish.
Now, Grindelwald saw a different possibility.
Ascension.
Most men crave power and authority. He, more than anyone, desired it.
[ROAR!]
The restless barking of the three-headed dog snapped Grindelwald out of his reverie. The Acolytes were shaking, staring in terror at those six bloodthirsty eyes.
Nobody said joining the Acolytes meant fighting the King of Hell! Can we take it back?!
None of them dared to touch the flames now, unsure if they could still pass the "test of loyalty."
"Shh... shh..."
Ethan reached out to soothe the beast, his voice tender. "We must wait. We have to be humble, polite doggies."
The Acolytes' eyes lit up. Could there be a chance for a truce?
Ethan continued, "We have to wait for the others to finish their last words before we eat."
Acolytes: "..."
One wizard reached his breaking point, roaring in fury, "You... you're just playing with us—arrgh!"
A blinding flash of green light struck the man in the chest. He was sent flying, his wand clattering to the floor as his head slumped. His eyes remained wide, frozen in a mask of shock and confusion. Even in death, he didn't understand why.
"...Too noisy," Grindelwald said, slowly lowering his wand. Under the bewildered stares of his followers, he looked deeply at Ethan. His eyes sparkled as he asked raspy, "Might I have the honor of knowing your true name? Esteemed Mr. Lamp."
He wanted, one day, to follow this magnificent being.
[Ding!] [Congratulations! You have successfully lit a new "Lamp in the Cranium"!] [Linked Character Acquired: The First Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald!]
Ethan: ...?
He looked at Dumbledore's old flame, then at the bright light now shining in his mental map, and fell into a deep silence.
Dumbledore, I swear I didn't do anything.
You won't blame me, will you~?
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