He vanished into the forest that night, following ley lines only he could see through his system's mana-scan overlay. Eventually, the signal flared.
A camouflaged barrier shimmered ahead. Wards. Advanced, but flawed.
"Disrupt sigil 3-7-9. Introduce reversed arithmantic sequence," he whispered, pressing his hand to a runestone. The illusion dropped.
A camp. War-scarred. Cautious. Angry.
He was immediately surrounded by a dozen wands. "Name. Rank. Allegiance," barked a familiar voice.
"Aether. Rank: Unknown. Allegiance: Logic."
Hermione's wand pressed to his throat. Her eyes, older than her years, locked onto his. He could tell she had buried friends—too many.
But the system whispered to him: [Emotional Suppression Detected. Strategic Empathy: Recommended.]
He lowered his hands. "I know where Voldemort's stronghold is rooted. And I know how to destabilize it. But I can't do it alone."
Daphne Greengrass emerged from the crowd, magic dancing across her fingers. "Let him speak."
They took him in. Not fully trusted, but tolerated. Aether didn't need their faith—not yet. He needed their infrastructure.
The resistance was bleeding, but it wasn't dead. Not while he was here.
They gave him a tent, a worn-down wand, and access to their archive. Within days, Aether had converted that tent into a mobile lab. Runic stabilizers lined the floor. A floating screen displayed energy grids. Drones made from enchanted spoons zipped overhead.
He taught them how to enhance healing potions with harmonic mana. Reinforced wards using mirror resonance. Built a prototype arcane battery that could power defensive enchantments for weeks.
"He's... terrifyingly brilliant," Hermione admitted one night to Daphne. "But he doesn't sleep. He doesn't stop."
Daphne smirked. "I like him."
One day, Aether unveiled his first invention: a compact shield generator that activated automatically when a caster was unconscious.
"Protection even when your magic fails," he explained. "Because smart defense wins wars, not flashy spells."
The resistance started listening. Then respecting. Then following.
The Codex Mission was launched after Aether decoded a stolen transmission: Voldemort's forbidden spellbook, the Dark Codex, had been moved to the restricted section of the library.
Aether led the infiltration team himself—Hermione, Daphne, and two operatives trained in stealth. They bypassed the outer security layers using cloaked aura suppressors Aether developed.
In the library, time bent unnaturally. Spells had been laid to confuse intruders. Aether activated a temporal stabilizer field, locking the room's flow to real-time.
Inferi rose from behind the shelves. Rotting, silent, fast.
Hermione launched fire. Daphne froze the ground. Aether, meanwhile, overloaded the central mana node.
With a pulse of energy, every Inferius was vaporized.
They retrieved the Codex.
Outside, an alarm had been tripped. But Aether had expected that. A diversion team detonated a mana bomb two kilometers away.
They returned to Nexus with the book—and with it, a map of every secret Voldemort had tried to bury.
Target: Astronomy Tower. Purpose: Collapse magical field linked to Voldemort's scrying network.
Aether drafted the operation plan with military precision. Hermione led the frontal assault. Daphne and Aether infiltrated through the aqueducts.
They arrived mid-battle. Screams echoed. The sky turned red from overlapping spells. Aether launched sonic disruptors that silenced enemy incantations.
At the top of the tower, they faced Bellatrix Lestrange—more insane than the records had shown.
She and Daphne dueled. Ice against flame. Madness versus control.
Aether planted explosives charged with inverted runes.
"Go!" he shouted, grabbing Daphne as the detonation sequence began.
The tower collapsed behind them.
A victory, but Voldemort retaliated. He exterminated an entire village in revenge. Aether stood amidst the ashes afterward, rage boiling beneath his calm.
He whispered, "We do not repeat this mistake."
In the heart of the Forbidden Forest lay ruins from the First Era—forgotten, buried beneath centuries. Aether's system found them through seismic magical readings.
He reconstructed the site over three sleepless weeks. Reinforced the walls. Built an underground mana reactor. Installed water filtration, food synthesizers, aerial wards.
Nexus was born.
A city not of rebellion—but of rebirth.
Hermione managed the research division. Daphne trained elite squads. Aether directed everything, like a conductor of a thousand silent instruments.
Survivors came. Orphans. Outcasts. Mages. Believers.
Aether stood before them one dawn. "We are not hiding. We are building. The future starts here."
And they believed him.
One quiet night, Aether and Daphne sat on the Nexus tower, watching moonlight reflect off the runes below.
She broke the silence. "You never asked about my past."
"I didn't need to. You're here now."
She looked at him. "You're not like anyone I've ever met. You make sense of chaos."
He turned to her, finally vulnerable. "I'm trying to make sense of myself."
She leaned in and kissed him—slow, deliberate, controlled. It wasn't a burst of passion. It was a statement.
They stayed there for hours, saying nothing, the world quiet around them.
The tear opened without warning—ripping reality above Nexus for two seconds before closing. But Aether's sensors had already captured everything.
It was a chakra signature.
[System Alert: Cross-World Incursion Detected. Subject: Orochimaru. Origin: Universe 2 – Elemental Nations.]
Orochimaru had sensed Aether's presence. And he was reaching out.
Left behind: a mutated clone of Voldemort infused with cursed chakra.
It nearly killed three squads before Aether neutralized it—using a fusion spell of anti-magic and dimensional compression.
He looked at the remains. "So... the next world wants a conversation. Let's oblige."
Aether began constructing the first Multiverse Gate prototype.
The true journey was about to begin.
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