As everyone knows, Ian entered the Twilight Zone every seven days in his sleep. He still did not know why he possessed this ability, but after so many years, he had developed the habit of carefully tracking the timing.
Seven was a magical number.
In the Harry Potter world, at least, the number seven was extraordinarily special.
It carried unique significance.
Many things in the Harry Potter world were inextricably linked to this number. Perhaps it was a mystical number engraved into the cosmic rules of the Harry Potter universe itself. Just as forty-two represents a universal constant in some worlds, perhaps seven was the magic constant in the Harry Potter world.
Of course,
Whatever the truth might be,
The fact remained that Ian entered the Twilight Zone once every seven days. All he needed to do was remember the day of the week he entered the illusion; over the years, he had almost never made a mistake.
This time, however, was clearly an exception.
The main issue was that nighttime in the Harry Potter world corresponded to daytime here, which was genuinely confusing. On top of that, so many things had happened here, too many, too chaotic, that Ian had no attention left over to devote elsewhere.
And now, caught completely off guard, Ian entered his hazy dreamscape in a way he had never experienced before. He had stayed up all night before without sleeping, but never had he been "forced into sleep" like today.
He did not know if this had anything to do with the female Titan, Claire, or if it was related to the particular point in time in which he found himself. In any case, the manner in which he entered this hazy night was far too abnormal.
In fact, it was not just the method of entry that was unusual, but even the scenery he saw after entering this world was different from before. In the past, although Ian would sometimes appear in different locations within the Twilight Zone for various reasons, that had merely been a change in geography.
Now, however, it was as if even the world's filter itself had changed.
"What's going on here?" Ian opened his eyes and looked around.
He was not panicked, but he was extremely curious. He had no idea what kind of dream-entry mechanism he had triggered this time. Everything around him seemed to have been rendered in black and white.
Yes.
These were not the colors Ian usually saw in the Twilight Zone. Most of the time, the colors there were not much different from those of the human world. But the filter surrounding him now, so heavy and oppressive, felt as though he had entered the Twilight Zone of some primordial era.
The frozen black-and-white palette also seemed to imply that this was an unchangeable past.
All around him was utter silence. There was no wind, no birdsong, not even the sound of a heartbeat. It was as if the world had been stripped of all signs of life, leaving only pure black and white.
Like an old photograph drained of all color… frozen and cold.
"An ancient Twilight Zone? A world that hasn't yet become a soul transfer station?" Ian realized that he might be standing within a forgotten chapter of the past.
Truths buried deep within history, about the Twilight Zone, and about wizards.
This world was nothing like the colorful Twilight Zone Ian remembered. The sky was leaden gray, with no clouds and no sun, only an even, suffocating blanket of ash-colored gloom. The ground was composed of countless tiny black granules, like pulverized charcoal; yet when stepped on, they emitted a crisp sound like shattering glass.
"What… kind of place is this?" His voice echoed eerily across the empty world. Looking down, even his own palms had lost all color, leaving only black and white.
His wand was still in his hand, but its color, too, had merged with the surroundings.
"I need to find out why I've come here." Ian slowly rose to his feet. The ground beneath him was as hard as iron, producing faint sounds of stones scraping together underfoot.
That was the only sound proving that time was still moving. His breathing felt jarringly out of place in this world, each inhale and exhale an intrusion upon the silence.
An endless rocky wasteland stretched all around him.
There was no vegetation, no animals, and not even a hint of dust. Only on the distant horizon did fissures cut across the land as if this world had once been torn apart by a colossal force.
Ian began to explore.
Black gravel groaned softly beneath his steps.
Each step left behind a footprint but within seconds, the footprints vanished without a trace. On the far horizon, several jagged black stone pillars reached toward the sky like the ruins of an ancient civilization.
"Did the Twilight Zone require specific people to develop it in order to become what it is in later ages?" Ian was no stranger to entering the Twilight Zone in past timelines.
When he had previously returned to ancient Pompeii, he had likewise been able to enter a Twilight Zone whose time had not yet advanced.
Back then, time in the Twilight Zone seemed to be calculated independently. No matter what point in time Ian occupied in the real world, entering the Twilight Zone never caused any interference.
The current situation was clearly different, however. Having not seen a single living being, Ian suspected that everyone he knew simply did not exist here.
He was not entering a particular region but rather, he was arriving at a time before the Twilight Zone had even been born: the very space where the Twilight Zone would one day exist, at least, before the Twilight Zone as he knew it came into being.
Ian kept walking.
Kept exploring.
He walked for an unknown length of time, but the scenery around him did not change in the slightest.
It was as though the entire world were nothing but this desolate landscape. Not only were there no clouds or sky phenomena, but there was also no wind, no sound. Even Ian felt as though he himself might freeze within this gray-white prison.
He began to wonder whether this was a prank by the female Titan, but his instincts told him he had not been subjected to any mental attack.
This was simply a primordial land, far older than even the Twilight Zone.
Of course,
Ian saw no souls here. Yet he could still sense traces that souls had once existed: a toppled stone stele with barely legible inscriptions; a winding path, long eroded by time but still bearing the marks of deliberate footsteps; and fragments of metal half-buried within layers of rock.
Like the remnants of some kind of weapon.
Ian inexplicably felt a trace of familiarity.
"I've been here before?" He murmured to himself, his tone filled with confusion.
Just as Ian was deep in thought, still unable to make sense of it all, a vague silhouette appeared in the distance. It was a mountain, no, a volcano. A pitch-black conical mass rose abruptly from the gray-white horizon. Pale plumes of smoke continuously billowed from its summit, yet there was not the slightest glimmer of flame.
"Mount Doom!"
Ian finally understood the source of that strange sense of familiarity. When he had once brought Ravenclaw's daughter into the Twilight Zone, he had appeared near this very volcano. In the end, it was Lady Ravenclaw herself who appeared, allowing Ian to return that ghostly lady to her.
The reason Ian had failed to recognize it at first was simply that the difference between this place now and its future state was far too great. It wasn't just the color palette, even the surrounding scenery was vastly different.
Anyone who has studied history knows this: Five hundred years are enough to turn seas into fields.
Let alone the unknown number of years that would pass before the Twilight Zone Ian was familiar with would even be born. That span of time was enough to ensure that no one could recognize any similarity between two places that looked utterly different, except for this volcano, which was so distinctive that it seemed hardly changed even after countless ages.
That was what allowed Ian to recognize where he was, and once again confirm that he truly was in the Twilight Zone, rather than some other strange and unfamiliar place.
"Mount Doom… the Death God's forge." Ian murmured softly.
The massive black volcano stood in silence, no eruption, no tremors, only magma slowly seeping from its fissures, now appearing as a kind of unchangeable black.
It didn't resemble a naturally formed mountain.
It was more like a man-made furnace.
Combining this information with the stories Lady Ravenclaw had told him, Ian concluded that this volcano was indeed the Death God's forge. The three Deathly Hallows had most likely been forged here.
"Raven seized this place later on."
Ian didn't know what secrets were hidden within the volcano, but he knew part of the past lay buried there, a history that could neither be changed nor escaped.
If he truly was Raven, then there was no way he would have seized this place without reason.
As for his appearance here now, that too could not possibly be a mere coincidence.
"I need to take a look."
Ian stepped onto the familiar path leading toward the crater. The stones beneath his feet loosened and tumbled into bottomless crevices, but there was no echo.
When he finally reached the edge of the crater, the sight before him brought him to a halt.
Illuminated by firelight, a tall figure bent over a forge, gripping both hands on an unfinished weapon. Sparks flew in all directions, and the deep, rhythmic sound of hammering seemed to strike the very pulse of the world.
The figure did not look up nor notice Ian's presence. He was wholly absorbed in his work, his expression solemn and his movements precise.
Ian held his breath and quietly moved a few steps closer, trying to see what the figure was making. However, the instant he took his next step, the smoke plume within the crater roiled violently.
The tall figure turned his head.
He was draped in a tattered cloak. Beneath the cloak, there was no body, only boundless darkness with occasional flashes of crimson light as if they were the only colors in this world.
"Death God."
Ian's throat tightened.
He saw the figure forging a scythe.
The Death God's scythe.
Now...
The figure turned its head and he felt as though its gaze could pierce straight through him.
"Raven~" The Death God spoke softly.
There was no emotion in its tone. Yet in this utterly silent world, the voice was exceptionally clear.
…
While Ian was being tormented by silence and this sudden encounter within the Twilight Zone, at the very same time, inside the stone house of the real world, everything was roaring and chaotic.
"Pa Pa Pa… Pa! Pa Pa Pa… Pa!"
Claire sat cross-legged on a huge beanbag bed, her fingers flying rapidly across the screen of a video game. With each of her inputs, the entire island let out thunderous rumbles.
The earth trembled, mountains rose, and rivers changed their courses.
She was still fully absorbed in remodeling her island.
"Hmm… this forest is too monotonous." She tilted her head, lightly flicked her fingers, and in an instant, countless glowing trees burst forth from the ground, starlight-like luminescence flowing through their branches and leaves.
"Let's add some new Pokémon and Digimon." She grinned, casually pinching out a few rabbits with butterfly wings, which hopped away and vanished into the depths of the jungle.
"This must definitely count as my original creation." Claire looked rather smug as a group of never-before-seen creatures slowly took shape.
They had the bodies of deer, but with serpentine tails and eagle wings, and there was also a gigantic turtle, completely transparent, with starlight flowing within its body, slowly crawling toward the coastline. These new species were not the result of natural evolution, but were personally shaped by Claire herself.
She wasn't building an ecosystem; she was simply indulging her whims.
On the eastern side of the island, the previously calm sea suddenly churned violently. A brand-new volcano rose from the ocean floor; before the magma had even cooled, Claire had already enthusiastically planted a massive flame tree at the crater, its canopy burning with eternal golden fire.
All of this planning was, in fact, highly unscientific.
It completely violates evolution theory and every other theory of biological development.
Yet it was extremely magical.
As she tirelessly modified the island, the air outside filled with the smells of soil, seawater, and metal, along with the faint scent of lingering magical embers.
"Perfect." A satisfied smile curled at the corner of her lips. However, just as she was about to continue reshaping the western side of the island, she suddenly froze. A flash of shock passed through her previously focused gaze, followed by deep gravity. Her eyes began to glow; it was clear that her seer ability had been activated.
"This time… it really is a time traveler." Her voice was very soft, yet carried a rare seriousness.
She looked out the window. Reflected deep within her pupils was not only the island before her eyes, but a far more distant scene, an image of Earth.
More precisely, it was a scene from one of the islands she had created on Earth. Within the massive storm used to isolate that island, an old man dressed in deep blue robes was pushing his way through it.
In fact…
That figure had indeed crossed through the storm and arrived at the utterly tranquil core at its center.
Claire set the video game aside, the corners of her lips lifting slightly.
"Interesting."
She rose to her feet. The stone house's door opened on its own, and the world outside continued to change under her will. Volcanoes erupted, forests spread, and new life was born from her imagination.
But at this moment, her attention was completely captured by the uninvited guest.
The female Titan gazed toward Earth.
Her vision effortlessly pierced through all obstacles, revealing the scene on the planet.
Above the ocean, the old man who had broken through the storm seemed to sense that he was being watched. He raised his head in confusion and glanced around, yet found nothing amiss. Then, still hovering in midair, he turned his gaze toward the island.
"Ian has been here." The old man spoke in a low voice, his tone firm and certain.
He was the one who should have been trapped within the trial of the Bronze Gate…
Albus Dumbledore.
(End of Chapter)
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