Chapter 28 - Chapter 28: The Anodite Form.

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(Loth's P.O.V)

Death didn't come with fire or fanfare.

It was more like a switch flipping.

The light behind your eyes goes out. The air disappears—not just the breath in your lungs, but the feel of it, the way it brushes your skin or hums past your ears when you move.

Sound dies next. No more distant wind, no crackle of spellfire, no Luna calling my name.

Then warmth. The last tie to the world. Gone.

And then…

Nothing.

Not silence. Not darkness. Not even pain.

Just… the absence of everything. A deep, crushing blankness.

If I could compare it to anything, it was like the moment right before waking—when you know you were dreaming but can't remember what about, and you don't really know who or where you are. There was no awareness. Just a slow, sinking fall into the unknowing void.

And I think that would've been it.

I would've faded entirely, if not for her.

Luna.

Her voice—broken, raw—ripped through the haze like a lightning bolt through cloud cover.

Somehow, that scream reached me.

And something responded.

A warmth, faint but familiar, bloomed in the center of what had once been my chest. The bracelet—her bracelet. Its magic surged like a flare, dragging me from the brink, anchoring me in the emptiness.

Then… it happened.

A pulse of light broke through the void—pink, blinding, and impossibly large. A path stretched through the nothing, glittering with embers. At the end of it, something ran.

Blitz.

Not the battered, limping wolf I last saw, but something bigger—grander. A shape made of stars for fur and wild energy. His form streaked across the space between life and death, each pawstep shaking the emptiness like thunder.

He reached me—and didn't stop.

He exploded into a cloud of shimmering light, and that light didn't vanish.

It entered me.

And suddenly, I remembered who I was.

Suddenly, I was no longer falling.

I was rising.

The warmth in my chest expanded like a star going nova. I felt it burn through me, tearing away everything that wasn't me. Every thread of pain, fear, hesitation—it all peeled off like ash in the wind.

What remained was pure.

Untethered.

My soul reformed—not in flesh, but in energy.

And it had weight.

I felt gravity again, but not the kind that held me down. This gravity pulled inward, centering me in myself.

And then I opened my eyes.

Not my physical ones—but something new. Something beyond human senses.

The world came back, but different. Layers of reality stacked on top of each other, like transparencies on a projector. I could see the battlefield—the ruins, the Death Eaters and Luna disheveled and teary.

And I could see myself, lying broken and still on the ground. My body—empty. Done.

But I wasn't in it anymore.

I was above it. Beyond it.

Not mortal. Perhaps divine yet other.

Something more.

An Anodite in true Form.

Luna was still on her knees. Her face streaked with tears. Her voice shaking. Her hands barely glowing anymore. She was fading—ready to give up.

Lucius Malfoy stood with his wand raised, taunting her. Arrogant. Certain.

He had no idea what was coming.

My voice echoed across the battlefield, calm and sharp like a blade unsheathed.

"Correction," I said, floating down with my aura pulsing. "I'm still here."

The battlefield froze.

Not from fear—but something close. Shock. Disbelief. Confusion.

The Death Eaters—once so composed, so sure—were now backing away, half-raised wands trembling, unsure whether what they saw was real.

And to be fair, I wasn't sure either.

My body—if it could even be called that anymore—was radiant pink. Not hot, not blinding, just… steady. A beacon made of light and thought, defined not by flesh, but by will. My skin had become translucent energy. My outline shimmered, edges blurred by swirling tendrils of silver and pink. I wasn't glowing.

I was the glow.

But that wasn't the strange part.

The strange part was how I could see now.

Not just physically—I mean everything.

Where once my Aura Sight had only picked up magical traces and emotional states, now my Anodite perception tore through the layers of the world like glass.

I saw things that had no names.

Each Death Eater wasn't just a man or woman in a mask. They were nodes of glowing internal energy—what I instinctively knew were magic cores, deep in their chests, faint lines threading outward like veins to their wands. Every cast, every spell, pulled from that source.

The air between them wasn't empty, either. It was full of color—pulsing, shifting wavelengths of energy. Ultraviolet strands, spiritual frequencies, emotional signatures… and through it all, flowing like currents in a cosmic river, was the Mist.

But not how I'd always known it.

The Mist wasn't a singular energy. Not a veil. Not an illusion generator. It was composite. A patchwork of energies layered and interwoven—divine magic, natural essence, human belief, mortal perception, even emotions and other various energies I divined belonged to different pantheons. All clashing and combining into a grand, chaotic lattice. Like a stained-glass window constantly shifting shape.

And I could see all of it.

Every thread. Every current.

But most surprising of all—my own Anodite energy wasn't part of it.

It stood apart.

Bright. Clean. Anchored.

A force untouched by the Mist's chaos. And stranger still—it was pulling.

Like gravity. All other energies—wand magic, natural essence, ambient spirit—drifted toward me. I could feel it, like static humming against my thoughts. And even without effort, my Anodite form- I was absorbing them. Pulling them in. Taking their signature and dissolving it into itself.

If I wasn't careful, I could probably unravel everything around me.

And I had a feeling—not certainty, not knowledge, but instinct—that if I focused, if I studied each type of energy, I could learn them. Use them.

The thought made my pulse—if I still had one—flutter.

I was connected to the Mist in a way no one else had been. Not even Hecate. Not even Nyx.

But that could wait.

I narrowed my eyes, scanning the trembling Death Eaters. Their magic cores flared with fear, their spell channels shaky. They were hesitating.

I wouldn't give them another chance.

No slow speech. No dramatic warning.

Just one whispered thought.

End it.

My aura flared outward, compressing with a snap.

Three of them went down immediately—wands flying from their hands, knocked out cold by a concussive blast of raw pressure.

Lucius shouted something—I couldn't hear him, not really. His voice was like static now. The world had grown quiet, even with all the energy around me.

I could see his spell forming—Expulso, maybe. But I didn't need to block it.

I touched the line of energy as it left his wand—felt its signature—and unraveled it mid-air. It dispersed into harmless smoke.

That drew more fear than any explosion could've.

They backed up.

I let them.

I wanted them to see it. To understand.

This wasn't a second wind.

This wasn't me getting back up.

I was no longer playing by the same rules.

The Mist and Magic bent around me. Energy fed me. Death had not ended me.

It had elevated me.

The moment I let my aura settle into silence, Lucius Malfoy found his voice again.

"Kill him," he snapped. "Use everything. I want that thing—whatever it is—destroyed."

The Death Eaters hesitated only a second longer. Then the sky filled with their worst.

"Confringo!"

"Crucio!"

"Bombarda Maxima!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

The curses came in waves. Red, green, black, and silver lights arced through the air, crashing down on me like thunder. I didn't move.

I didn't have to.

They hit—and were absorbed.

Every spell, every burst of rage-wrought power—vanished the moment it touched me. The energies unraveled and were taken. Not shielded. Not nullified, but pulled into my form like rain falling into a lake.

I felt them all. I analysed them all.

The pain in Crucio—the pure destruction in Confringo—even the sickening finality of the Killing Curse. Each one translated into a sensation, then a pattern. Then… understanding.

The spells were just code. Language. And my Anodite energy could read it.

I didn't respond. Not yet.

Let them come.

Luna's voice broke through the chaos. Dazed, still held in Malfoy's grip, her words stumbled like a song whispered through dream.

"He's… he's a million, billion, trillion pink fireflies," she sounded awed. "They're eating all the spells. You can't kill something like that."

Her eyes, wide and faraway, fixed on me like she wasn't quite looking at me—but into me.

Malfoy hissed, dragging her tighter. "Enough!"

But Luna didn't stop. "The Flitwicks know. So do the Lichtbugs. The Wartsnots too. They say he's not not a god."

Malfoy gritted his teeth. "He is not a god!" he barked, fury spitting from every word. "He's just another overpowered brat! Keep casting! Use augmenting and physical spells!"

In other words, attacks that weren't made up of pure magic itself but used magic to cause intended effects. Smart.

"Yes. Give me more and buy yourselves a few more seconds to live." I declared.

The Death Eaters obeyed. This time it wasn't just spells—it was strategy.

They shifted to spatial magic. Sectumsempra which had proven effective before, fired in synchronized arcs.

The moment the blades touched me, my Anodite form split—clean down the center.

For a breath, I was two.

Then the air snapped back. The space mended. The halves reformed like water converging after a stone strike.

I hovered there, still silent, musing on the spell's working.

"Impossible!"

"It didn't work!"

The Death Eaters panicked.

"Transfigura Terranum!" someone yelled.

The earth cracked and groaned. Bones shot up from the soil, twisting together. A grotesque dragon took shape—built from human skeletons and bound by dark will. Its eyes glowed red. Its chest pulsed with dark fire.

The dragon shrieked and rose up toward me, its maw glowing with infernal heat that was unleashed in a torrent of dark flames.

I raised a hand. My voice was calm.

"Sectumsempra."

But not like theirs.

Mine didn't cut once.

It cut a hundred times.

The air shimmered—space split into thin lines of death that curved like razors. The dark flame split first, fragmenting into harmless slivers. Then the bone dragon tore apart—halved, quartered, diced into splinters that never hit the ground, turning to dust midair.

I hadn't even moved.

The battlefield stilled.

One Death Eater's wand clattered to the ground.

Another turned to run—but Lucius snarled, stopping him. "You cowards!" he barked. "He hasn't attacked once! He's just standing there soaking it up!"

He glared at me. "You're no god!"

I said nothing.

Luna, eyes still distant, murmured again, "The Wartsnots say you should hush."

Lucius's hand twitched.

"Enough of this!" he roared, pulling Luna forward and pointing to the remaining Death Eaters. "Use Fiendfyre!"

They flinched.

One stammered, "That spell—Malfoy—it doesn't stop—"

"Then you better hope it hits him before it hits you!" Lucius snapped. "It's him or us!"

For a long moment, no one moved.

Then, the whispers began.

One wand lit. Then another. Then six.

I felt the heat before the flames even emerged.

Here it came.

They were ready to burn the world just to end me.

And I was curious to see if they would succeed.

They cast it all at once.

A chorus of voices—strained, desperate, mad—rose in perfect unison.

"Fiendfyre!"

I felt it before I saw it. Space folded, twisted, and cried out. The Mist recoiled, as if it too feared what was coming. The sky darkened, the ground cracked, and then—reality tore.

From that rupture, it emerged.

A swirling, blue inferno—not fire in the way mortals understood it. It wasn't born of heat or fuel. It was alive, screaming, clawing at the world. Wings burst from its center—birdlike, yes, but wrong. Too many eyes, too many talons, too much want.

It wasn't from this world. It wasn't from any world.

And unlike other spells, it had a voice. One chanting a never ending string of two words,

"CONSUME. GROW. CONSUME. GROW. CONSUME..."

The instant it appeared, the Death Eaters who had cast it began to scream—their bodies immolated before they could even run. Their wands melted. Their robes turned to ash mid-air.

Gone. Just like that.

Lucius and the two others had the sense to Apparate. They landed a distance away, shields raised, Luna still gripped tightly in Lucius's arm.

She stared in horror as the Fiendfyre consumed everything—the ruins of her house, the trees, the earth itself. Everything burned. And me?

I didn't move.

The blue inferno swallowed me whole.

(General P.O.V)

"Loth!" Luna screamed.

Lucius, still watching, laughed.

But then he did something no one expected.

He raised his wand and looked at his men. "It's time. Prepare to cast Morsmordre Dementorum. We take no chances until that 'thing' is destroyed."

One of them faltered. "My Lord? That spell—if the Aurors trace it—"

Lucius snapped. "Then let them! Let the Ministry come running. They'll know what we're capable of. Fear is our best ally now!"

Reluctantly, the remaining two nodded. They drew back their sleeves to reveal the Dark Mark—that cursed brand seared into their left arms.

Together, all three of them touched their wands to it.

"For our Dark Lord! Morsmordre Dementorum!"

The world chilled.

The very air drained of warmth.

Black shapes shimmered into existence above the treetops—Dementors. Not one or two. Dozens, summoned by the spell.

They drifted like vultures, circling the burning inferno of Fiendfyre, yet never entering its area of influence about field-sized and growing.

And then it happened.

The Fiendfyre stopped.

It didn't spread. It didn't roar.

It tightened.

Shrunk.

Pulled itself together until it was no larger than a sphere—a tiny, perfect blue sun—floating in place.

Right above where Loth had died.

"Big brother is...amazing."

Luna's eyes widened.

Lucius whispered, "Impossible…"

The sphere dropped—slowly, gently—and came to rest in Loth palm.

No longer floating. No longer glowing wildly. Just… present. The chaos energy in the FiendFyre had calmed. Coalesced.

Loth had tamed it, mastered it.

And the Dementors sensed it instantly.

They turned, fleeing. But Loth had already raised his hand. The small sun in his palm flared—

Then exploded.

Blue FiendFyre streaked across the sky in a wave. It didn't roar. It sang. A deep, resonant hum of 4 syllables that split the heavens, "Consume. Grow. For. God. Consume. Grow. For. God..."

The Dementors screamed as the fyre caught them—one by one—until there was nothing left but fading black ash.

The blast wave rolled over the field, and the two remaining Death Eaters clutched their heads—only to fall dead, skulls bursting like glass from fyre's chaos song alone.

Only Lucius remained.

And Luna.

A pink barrier had formed around them—Loth's doing.

Lucius coughed, staggering to his feet, robes frayed and silver hair messy. He looked up.

And Loth was already standing there, floating inches above the ground, beside Luna.

"H-how?"

Lucius gasped, having not seen Loth move.

"Apparition is quite easy to master." Loth softly muttered. After seeing it spammed so much, it would have been strange not to automatically learn it.

The mass of Fiendfyre—fluttered in the air above them, its twisted form melting into a Phoenix. A blue one, wreathed in chaos fire. It drifted down and perched on Loth's shoulder, wings folding like nothing had happened.

'Everything we threw at him, even the Dementors...failed. Who- What is he? I'm sorry my Lord...I give up.'

Lucius fell to his knees. His wand dangled in his hand.

"What… what are you going to do to me?" he croaked, looking between them, "Please…"

Loth didn't answer, he instead turned to Luna.

And she—stared at Lucius. Eyes like glass. No tears left.

No mercy.

Her voice was quiet.

"Everything you planned to do to me," she said. "That's what's going to happen to you."

Lucius didn't even get the chance to beg.

The Fyre Phoenix spread its wings and they apparated away.

::--------------------------------------::

Had to use my phone to write this. My Hard Drive crashed, and I lost a lot of my drafts like John Wick part B.

Trying to recover the files will take some time but until then, no Boogeyman In Gotham. Hopefully I won't have to rewrite everything from scratch again.