Time is meaningless to me now. Immortality stretches before me like an endless void, a canvas upon which I can inscribe my will without interruption. Decades, centuries, even millennia — it matters not. Mortals live fleeting, fragile lives, their ambitions bound by the limits of a heartbeat. I? I am eternal. I have touched the threshold of death itself, claimed it, and walked beyond it. I am the master of death. No curse, no blade, no spell can hold me for long; my regeneration ensures that even the most catastrophic of assaults will be little more than a fleeting annoyance. I am godlike. I am inevitable.
And with that eternity comes opportunity. Plans that once would have required decades of careful orchestration can now stretch across centuries. My research into alchemy, potions, and even divination — once a minor curiosity — now becomes a pursuit worthy of my boundless lifespan.
Divination has always been… frustrating. I never had the aptitude for it as Tom Riddle. The original me had no patience for the cryptic visions and symbolic interpretations that others found illuminating. Yet, it does not matter. In this new age of power, limitations are meaningless. What I cannot learn through natural talent, I can seize through study, observation, and, of course, manipulation of magical essence.
I set my sights on the source. The most talented seers in the wizarding world, individuals whose visions had guided nations and shaped events, became my subjects of study. I do not rely on brute force alone — I analyze the magical imprints of their work, the lingering traces of their aura, and the resonance of their prophetic energy. In this way, I began to unlock the mechanics of foresight itself.
Weeks pass, though to me they might as well be minutes. My work is methodical, unrelenting. The Chamber of Secrets, long a secret sanctuary, now functions as a laboratory of unparalleled magical innovation. Cauldrons bubble with fluids that shimmer with a thousand colors, each potion a step closer to understanding. Alchemical apparatus clinks and hums, transfigured tools arranging themselves with precision to meet my whims. Ingredients of unimaginable rarity — the fruits of Flamel's six-century-long labor — are spread across tables, their potential only beginning to be realized.
Through careful experimentation, I discover the essence of divination is not simply sight or intuition, but a subtle interplay between mental acuity and spiritual resonance. Certain individuals are attuned to temporal currents; their minds brush against the threads of possibility, and their spirits resonate in harmony with them. By observing these interactions and harnessing magical conduits, I begin to replicate the process in controlled experiments, pushing my own consciousness to perceive the future.
The results are staggering. At first, my visions are fleeting — a shimmer of light in the corner of awareness, a whisper of events yet to unfold. But as I refine my techniques, my understanding deepens. I begin to see not just single outcomes, but branching possibilities. The threads of fate, once invisible, begin to unravel themselves before me, revealing potentialities I can manipulate, prevent, or ensure.
Months stretch into years. My research grows ever more sophisticated. I design intricate magical matrices to amplify perception, channeling the energies of rare alchemical substances into the ley lines that run beneath Hogwarts itself. My potions enhance neural resonance, attuning my mind to the subtlest fluctuations of magical time. Each day, I expand my library of notes — tomes upon tomes chronicling methods, observations, and theoretical frameworks. Though I possess eidetic memory, I record everything. Knowledge, after all, is power, and it is a resource I can afford to preserve indefinitely.
And slowly, my divinatory abilities surpass those of the greatest seers of history. Where once the visions of others were cryptic or unreliable, mine are precise, immediate, and manipulable. I can see the outcome of conflicts before they occur, perceive the rise and fall of kingdoms, and trace the potential of individuals with terrifying clarity. Even the wisest prophets of the wizarding world would appear blind before my perception.
Yet, even with such mastery, I am restless. Time is infinite, and my ambitions stretch farther than any mortal could imagine. I begin to integrate divination with alchemy, combining foresight with transformative magic. Potions that react to possible futures, artifacts that adjust their properties according to probable outcomes, wards that anticipate intrusion before it occurs — all become part of my ever-expanding arsenal.
And in the silence of the Chamber, surrounded by the fruits of centuries of labor and my own unparalleled genius, I feel the truth of my supremacy. I am no longer simply immortal; I am a being that shapes the very fabric of reality. Fate bends before me. Death trembles at my touch. All that exists is within reach, waiting to be folded into my will.
This is only the beginning. With centuries at my disposal and power beyond imagination, there is no corner of magic I will not explore, no secret I will leave undiscovered. I am eternal. I am inevitable. I am the God of Death. And the world, mortal and magical alike, will kneel to the vision I create.