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Chapter 75: An Alchemist on Tatooine.
🕑 Added 2025-06-11 19:03:26 +0000 UTC[P]-[W]-[M]
Johnathan Grey
[P]-[W]-[M]
For centuries-old mages of immense renown, the Flamels still acted like children playing with new toys as they played with their Anti-Venom, willing it to reshape and retract with a thought. The white and black responded obediently, wrapping and forming themselves into different outfits as the pair experimented gleefully.
“Hmm, quite responsive.” Nicolas mused aloud, as the symbiote shifted into a long, flowing academic robe, only to instantly morph into the sharp-cut, long-tailed suit he usually wears. “It’s alive too, yet not quite at the same time. Almost like a coma patient.”
Perenelle giggled softly as her own symbiote outfit rippled between an elegant evening dress and some modern wear. “And utterly weightless… such a peculiar sensation.”
I was sitting nearby in a cushioned armchair with a bored expression plastered on my face, chin resting in one hand as I watched their antics for the last hour or so. If it weren’t for my tinkering with spells to pass the time, I would have fallen asleep ten minutes in. On the bright side, I seamlessly combined [Chain Lightning] and [Force Storm] to create the [Chain Force Storm], a destructive magical and Force energy phenomenon that jumps from opponent to opponent. Specifically designed for when I head to the Mnggal-Mnggal’s home planet.
Eventually, after indulging their amusement to satisfaction, the Flamels seemed to regain some composure, if only enough to have a semi-normal conversation. With a shared look, they each commanded the symbiote to settle as a second skin beneath their standard attire, like I always do. Nicolas was now beneath his usual perfectly tailored butler’s suit, and Perenelle’s beneath her secretary get-up.
They joined me on the small round table I was sitting at, where an assortment of beverages, teas and biscuits had been set out. As they seated themselves, Nicolas picked up his cup and asked, “This symbiote, is it from the same universe as the Cortana lady? Or perhaps that curious universe with the superior wandcraft?”
“Neither,” I replied, taking a slow sip of my tea, feeling perfectly fine with telling them my 'secret'. Even if they told people, there was nothing they could really do about it in the grand scheme of things, so there wasn't a need to be afraid of someone outing me. “It’s actually an accidental creation from a completely different universe. Separate from both the one with better wands and Cortana’s.”
Perenelle barely seemed to register my answer as her focus was entirely consumed by the advanced tablet in front of her, fingers danced across the screen with growing fascination as she adjusted to the technology. “Mmm… fascinating,” she murmured, now playing with a hologram showing different decorations and designs of an office. “This makes things much simpler.”
Nicolas sent her a deadpan look before nodding in agreement, absent-mindedly swiping across the surface of the wristwatch I had provided him, checking his health stats. He had become fascinated with the app, wanting to use it to improve his elixirs and potions more effectively based on the real-time details it provides.
I let them tinker for a few more minutes, allowing them to enjoy the moment before I spoiled the fun with a slight clearing of my throat. “Seeing that you guys are so eager to come into my employ, I have a new role for you.”
The two looked up at once, giving me curious looks, but remained silent so as to let me continue.
“I’d like the two of you to act as my official liaisons for this dimension, similar to the liaisons I’ve assigned in the others. Trusted representatives. Eyes, ears and voices on my behalf. Though I think it’s best we make it unofficial for now, seeing that it’s unofficial in the others too.”
Now that I think about it, I really should visit the Bright-verse at some point to check on Tikka. Maybe have a violent conversation with the government if they tried something with her, or anyone with magic for that matter.
“Of course,” Nicolas said smoothly, sitting straighter as he exchanged a not-so-subtle glance with his wife. “It would be an honour. We were already going to try doing that anyway with how reclusive you seem to be, so it’s not much of a change really.”
Perenelle smiled softly, folding her hands atop the table. “With how enjoyable this trip has been as your secretary, I see no reason to turn down the promotion.”
I gave them both a nod of approval. “Good.”
It was then that Nicolas practically bounced in his seat, rubbing his hands together like a schoolboy awaiting a long-promised field trip. “So… when do we meet Cortana in person?” he asked, grinning. “Seeing her hologram is nice and all, but meeting in person is going to be even better. And when do we go? I’m more than ready to see this other dimension!”
I leaned back slightly, as if pondering the question for a beat. At least he wasn’t crying like the time he found out I had recreated the [Philosopher's Stone].
“If you’re ready, we can leave now,” I told the man-child with a casual shrug, wanting to avoid a tantrum.
“What’s the time dilation like?” Perenelle asked with a small frown.
I waved the question off dismissively. “Solved that problem a while ago. Time will pass as normal with the way I do it now. There won’t be much of a worry about brewing an extra lot of elixirs. ”
Nicolas clapped his hands together with a grin still on his face. “Brilliant! Space travel, aliens, space swordsmen-monk people with issues, corrupt politics.” He chuckled in a way that showed how much of an annoyance he was during his own world tours, while also informing me he planned to constantly point out the Order’s flaws right to their faces whenever he could. “This is going to be amazing!”
I couldn’t help but agree, in all honesty. It was something many a Star Wars fan wanted to do before Order 66, second only to having the ability to wield the Force in the first place.
Perenelle turned slightly in her chair, shaking her head as she hid her face behind her fingers with a groan. “Must you sound like an overeager first-year with a new broomstick?”
“Oh, let me have this,” Nicolas beamed. “We barely made it to the moon as a species, never made it there as a sub-species, and now we get to go to another planet, in another dimension and travel on a magic spaceship.” He paused, giving me a look. “We will get to go on the magic spaceship, right?”
“Yes, you’ll get to use the magic spaceship,“ I said, making my way to my feet, gesturing for them to follow. “Let’s go, then.”
We exited the enchanted briefcase with Nicolas skipping alongside Perenelle and I like a schoolgirl, and as soon as I shrunk the case and put it on my necklace, I used [Blink] to teleport us over. In an instant, we were gone, reappearing less than a heartbeat later in a circular, beskar chamber I built, tucked away in the secret base on Tatooine, specifically designed out of the way of the regular happenings in the base for when I popped over.
The sounds of an I-Robot’s measured footsteps walking toward us and it bowed politely. “Welcome to the Tatooine secret Command Base,” it said, placing a hand where a human’s heart would be as it spoke as some sort of formality. “Lord Grey, Master and Mistress Farage. I am NS-5 Sentinel Unit 01, here to attend to your every need.”
Perenelle’s eyes widened in delight as she took in the droid’s movements. “Remarkable,” she whispered. “It walks, speaks, its cadence is nearly human, even better considering how smooth the words flow.”
“Far beyond golems,” Nicolas muttered, already crouched at the edge of the room, running his fingers over the beskar flooring. “Remarkable indeed. It looks like goblin silver, but there’s no magic in it at all, and it feels much more durable from initial magical assessment.” He looked up toward me. “What are the properties?”
I was going to respond when the System decided now was the time to let me know a snapshot of how much I could miss in just a few days of gallivanting across the magical world.
[Successfully annexe the entire Hutt territory under your authority: +5,000,000 SP]
I stared at it for a moment, not even properly registering the value as I thought about what Cortana had done to earn me the achievement in just a few days. I knew I was going to conquer the place anyway. But if she went full Vikki from I-Robot and just sent out a butt-load of droids, it would basically look like the clone wars, just without clones.
Nicolas and Perenelle left me to what they assumed was a ‘vision’ as I stared at the prompt some more, before bringing up my wristwatch and muttering aloud, “…Cortana.”
“Boss,” she greeted with a slight smile as her hologram popped into view, hands resting at her sides. “I wasn’t expecting you to arrive for another few days.”
“I wasn’t either,” I replied. “But I popped by on a whim. I might skip my visit to Norway and just head to Egypt next, just for the warmer weather.”
Cortana tilted her head. “Then I suppose I have a decision to make: you can read through the reports and event logs like a proper administrator…” Her tone dropped to a more playful cadence. “...Or I can tell you everything face-to-face. It’s far more dramatic that way, with all the facial expressions and hand gestures. I can even turn out the lights and grab a torch.”
I chuckled, ignoring the potential horrific stories of criminal leaders’ untimely deaths in favour of nodding toward the Flamels, who were now content with watching the exchange. “I was going to formally introduce you to my liaisons for the Wizarding World dimension anyway. They’ve met the copy on the tablet and watch, but they wanted more. We’ll portal over now.”
“Perfect,” the advanced AI replied with a widening smile.
With a lazy wave of a hand, I opened a portal to where I could feel her on the planet and stepped through, followed closely by the Flamel couple. We emerged into a lavish office drastically different to the one I introduced her to Shmi in. A full wall of glass overlooked a cityscape of much better towers and aerial speeders compared to the last time I was here, with I-Robots walking around working construction.
I noted a nice, rich-people seating area sat off to the right, and the decor was great too, but what caught my attention was the black and silver, ultra-realistic Imperial Dragon emblem carved boldly into the wall.
Cortana was waiting near the desk, clad in an elegantly tailored black-and-silver ensemble befitting a high-ranking official.
“You have a very nice office.” Perenelle complimented, eyebrows rising as she took in the space.
Cortana smiled at that. “Thank you. Though, technically, it’s the boss's new office.” She cast me a sideways glance as I stared at the wall, which reminded me of Alduin’s wall with how well crafted it was. “I was going to surprise him. Along with some other rather big news, but something tells me he already has the cliff notes with the foresight thing he has going for him.” She offered her hand to the old couple to shake. “It’s good to meet you both in person finally.”
Nicolas took her hand and shook lightly, giving her a small, respectful nod. “The pleasure is ours.”
Perenelle, unlike her husband, shook Cortana’s hand while subtly running her fingers along the smooth synthetic skin. “Fascinating… indistinguishable from a human, even the head and tiny hairs are there as well. The craftsmanship is exceptional.”
Cortana smirked slightly, leading the two to the seating area. “Thanks. That’s all the boss really. How are you guys enjoying the symbiote?” She asked, knowing they had a piece from the information shared with her copy on our devices.
After giving them a moment to get to know each other for a little bit, I walked over to a seat, folding my arms as I gave her a pointed look. “Alright. Let’s hear it. What exactly happened while I was gone?”
Cortana’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, where do I begin?”
“Preferably the beginning,” I snarked, noticing the hovering container with refreshments making its way over to the table in the corner of my eye. “It would help with following the events in chronological order.”
“Indeed,” Nicolas added with a smile, looking forward to the story even more than I was, only to turn to his wife when he saw the container as well and whispering. “Muggle version of a levitation charm. Much better than the rockets they use. And Brilliant.”
“Well,” Cortana started proudly, ignoring the muttering of the couple as they talked about which spells can and have been replicated with technology. “It turns out, making Lord Grey the Emperor of Hutt space is rather easy when you have access to every Hutt bank account in the region…”
That cut the Flamels’ whispering conversation short as they focused, even while confused as to the names of people and places Cortana was saying.
Personally, I was only half-heartedly listening, preferring to look through the system on the upgrade for [Essence of Home]. It was only a matter of time before the Witches and Elves in the Witcher-verse start getting their asses handed to them, so a nice unbreachable planet will be the solution to that problem. At least until I can trust them enough to bring them over to places like Star Wars and such.
[P]-[W]-[M]
The Cave
Tom Marvolo Riddle - Lord Voldemort
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“NOOOOOOOO!!!” Voldemort’s raw and almost inhuman scream tore from his lips, echoing through the chamber with a fury-filled magic wave that made the lake itself seem to recoil. His once-withered frame was now fully restored, thanks to copious amounts of rituals and potions. Unnaturally strong muscles coiled in anger under his dark robes as his crimson, almost glowing eyes began searching for something he knew he wouldn’t be able to find in the cave he stood in.
The place had served as a vault for one of his most precious Horcruxes, kept safe by his most loyal followers who, last he had heard, died in the line of duty. Now, it was merely empty stone, shadows and disappointment. He stood before the now barren basin where the Horcrux had once been kept, where the protective enchantments had been violated, wand in hand, ready to murder the entire family of those involved, but found no outlet for his anger.
“They DARE…!” he snarled, magic pouring from his enhanced body as the air trembled with the constant uncontrollable waves of magic lashing outward, shattering nearby rocks into dust from time to time.
In a violent swirl of his robes, he disapparated with a violent crack, reappearing moments later inside the throne chamber of an old, long-forgotten mansion nestled deep within the wilds of the British countryside. The place, abandoned and condemned by the Ministry, now served as the secret base for him and his people. Ensuring the details of such a building were removed from Ministry records was easy work for his followers. While still somewhat empty, he would not worry, as his power would bring more to heel.
Upon the cracked obsidian dais, he strode to the tall-backed, serpentine throne and sat heavily, hands gripping the armrests with white-knuckled force. Enough that his enhanced strength would have made the rock crack if it weren’t for the enchantment he had placed on it personally. For wand work like his was unparalleled.
Unfortunately, he had not awarded himself enough time to contemplate who had the audacity to violate his Horcrux as footsteps echoed through the chamber. The Rookwood spare stepped forward from the shadows, still cloaked in his black Unspeakable robes stripped of insignia. His features were sharp, almost aristocratic like the Dark Lord’s own when he was younger, but his eyes were sunken with exhaustion due to his workload, a testament to his devotion.
‘Cassian Rookwood, ’ the Dark Lord remembered. That was his name, cousin to the still-incarcerated Augustus Rookwood, another of his devoted. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head deeply.
“My Lord,” he said, voice respectful and low but caring the words with magic so his Lord could hear it loud and clear. Not that it was necessary, due to the enhancement rituals and the room enchantment to ensure such a thing. “We have obtained information. Grey has left for Norway… accompanied by the Headmaster’s two guards. An ambush is being prepared, should you wish to sanction it.”
At the mention of the name, Voldemort’s lip curled back into a snarl. “Grey…” he hissed, remembering his humiliation in the forest, and how it ended with him in the Ministry in the first place. He leaned forward as his voice took on a more dangerous tilt. “And what of the research, Rookwood? What did the Unspeakables learn of my soul? And… how did they get the other pieces?”
Cassian kept his gaze fixed on the floor but spoke cautiously, having seen what happens whenever his Lord’s tone changes as such. “There was little, my Lord. I attempted to extract information from all my usual methods, but their wards are too fresh. If I pushed further so soon… I risked exposure. The Department is on high alert. If they discover me, they may uncover this location from my mind.”
Voldemort stared at him in silence, internally debating whether he should end the imbecile's life for not placing the hideout under Fidelis to avoid such an outcome. A moment later, he slowly stood, but said nothing. And then he struck, sending a wave of transparent energy shooting from his wand and piercing the plebian’s mind like a spear.
Cassian cried out and clutched his head, but did not resist, knowing that doing so would only result in a much worse outcome. Voldemort delved into his thoughts, tearing past surface images, scanning every inch of memory, the Soul Archives, fleeting glimpses of binding diagrams, alarms nearly tripped, false memories planted to cover his tracks…
It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Without so much as a flick of his wand, Voldemort pulled back and hissed, “Crucio!”
Cassian screamed as his body convulsed on the stone floor, hands clawing at the ground while the pain surged through every nerve like fire and broken glass. His screams echoed off the walls like music in Voldemort’s ears, bringing a sinister smile to his face. After several seconds, the Dark Lord reluctantly lifted the curse, almost breathing heavily, not from exertion, but from having to contain his wrath. He would have to find another outlet. One that he didn’t find useful to the resurgence of his empire.
“You will return,” he said coldly, stepping down from the dais. “You will dig deeper. You will find something useful… or you pay the consequences. When you succeed, you will be rewarded. Understood?”
Cassian lay trembling on the floor, but still managed a broken, “Y-Yes… my Lord…”
The Dark Lord turned, his crimson eyes burning like coals. He had lost a Horcrux. But the game was far from over. He would make another, and he knew just what to put it in. Or rather, who to put it in.
And if the lowly recruits were to find themselves captured in their endeavour to dispose of the boy in Norway, then all the better for it. If not, well, they will sing their Lord’s praises in their trials, if they are awarded one that is.
[P]-[W]-[M]
“ I Confess Myself... Disappointed. Not One Of You Tried To Find Me.”
— Tom Marvolo Riddle, Voldemort.
[P]-[W]-[M]
Hello There
Voldemort has got to be one of the top 10 worst bosses a person can have.
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Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original character and ideas. All credit goes to their respective owners.
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Thank you for reading.
As always, stay awesome.
Until next time, Light's out.
Comments
Sad Rain
Thank you for the chapter
