The ruins of R'lyeh closed completely behind Ian, the lingering echoes of folded space rippling like water before finally settling into the deathly still, dark green sea. A piece of history had vanished completely.
A completely new history extends into the future.
What Ian did went far beyond destroying a dream dimension and defeating a manifestation. When he left carrying the fully seized [ Erosion of Chaos / Foundation of Order ] authority, stepping on the still-lingering ripples of spacetime, it was a "covering" at the level of existence, a "replacement" at the level of authority. It was also Ian, as the newly appointed " Chaos Overseer," initiating a silent and thorough "purification" and "reclaiming" of a deeply corrupted "territory."
In this realm where scorching heat and indescribable, icy madness intertwine, a paradoxical spacetime structure unfolds like a beach about to be completely swallowed by a raging tide. Yes.
History is changing because of this.
The process was silent, yet intense enough to instantly vaporize the soul of any bystander. In the end, it wasn't a deafening explosion, but a kind of "fading," a kind of "dissolution."
Cthulhu symbolizes the ultimate chaos and madness, an imprint of existence that has been erased bit by bit, yet irreversibly, from the geological and mystical history of the Africa continent by a higher-order eraser. As the last trace of the active will and corrupting properties of the Great Old Ones Cthulhu were uprooted and transformed from the earth's veins, the river of time and history finally broke free from this ancient, mad, and dangerous "reef."
Change has occurred.
Change is like ripples created by a pebble thrown into the river of time, spreading steadily and firmly from the past point where " Cthulhu was completely resolved" towards the future.
It is not a ferocious tsunami that instantly destroys all existing traces, but a gentle surge that is closer to "correction" and "covering". The resilience of history is at work, trying to digest this huge variable and integrate it into its own coherent narrative.
The vast majority of ordinary beings, whether Muggle or Wizard, are completely unaware of this; it is in their memories, their experiences, and the "common sense" of their world.
The update was completed seamlessly the instant the ripples passed.
However, the changes left a more pronounced mark on those places and people deeply involved with the "secrets of the past." This alteration of history had an impact that extended into the future, surging but not ferocious, because Saruman's later establishment of the African Ministry of Magic was intended to conceal the Cthulhu Ruins. Therefore, the scope of the impact was manageable, perhaps because Saruman had planned for this from the beginning and made ample preparations. In short...
The only one most affected is the African Ministry of Magic. In the old Timeline, this Ministry of Magic was created to monitor, study, and do its utmost Hard Work seal and conceal the source of Cthulhu's ruins deep beneath it, which even a master like Saruman could only barely suppress but not eradicate. Now, the ripples have reached them.
The ripples of Timeline silently swept across this land, across this tall tower.
Deep within the tower lies an underground prison area, not used for daily office work, but for imprisoning and "disposing of" the most dangerous and unspeakable things. Here, the light is dim, and the walls are not made of brick or stone, but of some dark metal that devours light and sound. Etched upon them are layers upon layers of dazzling sealing runes, many of which originate from Saruman a thousand years ago, from his research into combating the madness of the subterranean world. In a specially designed cell at the very bottom, a figure is imprisoned.
"Teacher, did you really do it?"
He sat silently on the cold, rune-covered ground, his body hunched over, clad in a tattered black robe. His face... was no longer discernible.
It wasn't that he was obscured by shadows, but rather that his head was shrouded in a dark substance that slowly shifted and changed shape, seemingly composed of viscous shadows, tiny tentacle-like phantoms, and blasphemous runes that constantly vanished and reborn. This was the terrible price he had paid for long-term direct confrontation with, and even partial intervention of his body and power, in suppressing the contamination of the underground Cthulhu ruins—irreversible distortion of his body and soul.
These are the students who interacted with Saruman earlier.
An unnamed Auror.
He is not a criminal.
Instead, they are "watchers" and "purified" who voluntarily remain here, awaiting the next cycle of an ancient ritual that is said to be able to remove pollution, but whose success rate is slim.
At the same time, he was one of Saruman's most loyal and talented disciples, so he inherited some of his teacher's responsibilities, as well as that heavy secret.
His name has been forgotten by himself during the long period of suffering and perseverance, and has also been deliberately erased by the records, which is why his name has been mentioned all along.
The unsung hero.
Just remember that.
"The purification process is about to begin."
The Black Robe Wizard had previously cleared out all the prisoners in the underground and even personally sent his teacher on his way. Now, he was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and was simply waiting for a miracle to happen.
Fortunately, Saruman did not disappoint him.
The mutated Black Robe Wizard, whose face had been corrupted by the suppression of the Cthulhu ruins, awaited the "purification" process, as influences from the past overtook this point in time.
finally.
He got what he was waiting for.
At that moment, he suddenly raised his "head"—if that writhing mass could be called a head. It wasn't that he heard a sound, but rather a more fundamental "feeling."
"Here it comes! Is it a more tragic ending, or a better one?"
The Black Robe Wizard was unaware of this; all he knew was that the only thing he could do was end history.
I waited anxiously.
The complex sealing runes on the cell walls, which had been operating for countless years, were changing their light. Not extinguishing or intensifying, but rather the "meaning" of their flow was subtly shifting. Some of the suppression circuits that were originally targeting the "mad leak from the depths of the underground" seemed to have suddenly disappeared.
The rune chains thus appeared redundant and idle. Immediately afterward, an extremely subtle tremor came from the cold metal ground beneath him. It wasn't an earthquake, but rather a sense of emptiness as if some kind of "existence" had been extracted. The ever-present, faint, unsettling background whisper of madness in the air... was fading.
It didn't gradually disappear, but rather seemed to be rapidly erased from the "canvas" of reality by a giant eraser.
"Did it work?!"
The Black Robe Wizard, seeing history being covered, became excited.
The cells themselves began to change.
The dark metal walls faded, their texture seemingly transforming into more ordinary dark stone. The most complex, core, and deeply connected sealing runes etched into the walls, like ice sculptures exposed to the scorching sun, began to silently vaporize and dissipate, leaving behind smooth surfaces. The iron bars of the cells also softened and restructured, their form shifting towards a more conventional architectural structure—the kind of structure used in ordinary Azkaban to imprison ordinary dark Wizard.
"Okay, okay, okay!"
The Black Robe Wizard suddenly stood up, his deformed body trembling slightly with excitement, and at the center of that worm-like mass, it seemed as if two points of fire were burning fiercely.
He sensed the rapid yet "peaceful" changes in his surroundings; it wasn't an attack, but rather a "correction." The fundamental reason for the prison's existence was to suppress the terrifying source beneath the earth, a source whose very name could not be mentioned.
at this time.
The other party is being wiped out from the ground.
so.
There is no need for prisons to exist anymore.
"Teacher..."
A hoarse, distorted, almost inhuman sob escaped from his body, "You... success... as expected... you and that person... a thousand years ago... already..."
He understood. This wasn't a disaster, but the aftershocks of victory! Salvation from the past had spread to the present! His teacher, Saruman, had resolutely followed the enigmatic " Raven " into the Forbidden Land. Their aim was not temporary suppression, but a complete solution! And they had succeeded!
In the distant past, the root of this nightmare that continues to this day was severed!
"The world is finally safe!" Tears could not flow from the Wizard's mutated face, but the worm-like substance fluctuated violently, showing the unparalleled excitement and relief in his heart.
Centuries of vigilance, centuries of pollution and torment, the alienation and sacrifice of colleagues, the loneliness of guarding this heavy secret... everything has gained meaning, everything has been rewarded.
The teachers' heroic deeds, transcending the river of time, have cleansed the filth of this moment.
"Bring it on!"
They realized that what they were waiting for was a good ending.
The Black Robe Wizard immediately understood.
He no longer resisted the change in his environment; instead, he opened his arms wide. If those twisted limbs could still be called arms, they were arms outstretched in an embracing gesture, welcoming the baptism of time.
He could sense that, with the fundamental shift in the function of the prison, the powerful seals placed upon him to contain the spread of pollution were loosening and being reconstructed.
The root of that deep-seated, insane pollution seemed to have been removed, though the remaining distortions were still terrifying. However, the constant pulling sensation towards the abyss was rapidly disappearing.
This will completely reshape my life.
The Black Robe Wizard knew what was about to happen, and he knew that he would no longer be himself, but another self gradually formed from entirely new memories. He simply accepted it calmly.
Let the ripples of time cover and reconstruct him. The terrifying memories of what lies underground, the hardships of the suppression, and even some vague guesses about the ultimate fate of his teacher Saruman... These heavy secrets, like words on the beach, are gently but resolutely erased by the receding tide.
When he "opened his eyes" again.
He is still himself.
But he is no longer himself.
The Black Robe Wizard stood in a much brighter room. The room was made of regular dark gray stone, with smooth walls and no superfluous runes.
There are only a few permanent light spheres for illumination and basic protective magic arrays.
The room contained a simple table and chairs, and even a small bookshelf.
This is a standard "observation room" used for detaining and studying high-risk Magical Creatures or Wizard in special states, located in a regular restricted area under the Department of Mysteries of the African Ministry of Magic.
His black robe was still tattered, but the dark aura that clung to it, originating from underground pollution, had vanished. His head had also transformed into a young and handsome one.
There was not a trace of contamination left.
only.
He also had no recollection of that past.
"Huh? What am I doing standing here?" The Black Robe Wizard's eyes were clear and calm, filled with confusion and a newfound bewilderment. Who am I? Why am I here? I seem to have... forgotten something very important. He only remembered that he seemed to be an employee of the Ministry of Magic. Those memories about the underground, about suppression, about his teacher, and about some mysterious being were like faded dreams, leaving only a vague trace of melancholy mixed with reverence and relief.
"Yes, I am Auror from the Department of Mysteries."
New memories are gradually emerging.
The Black Robe Wizard gradually adapted completely.
Just then, the door to the observation room opened.
The woman who entered was a witch dressed in a dark blue robe with silver trim and a star pattern. She had a gentle and wise demeanor, and her eyes were clear, as if she could see through the truth beneath the surface.
Her face... vaguely resembled that of Lina, the prophet priestess who prayed in the jungle clearing a thousand years ago, but she was more mature and had fine lines of wisdom accumulated over the years at the corners of her eyes.
She is currently the highest- Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries at the African Ministry of Magic, and one of the directors in charge of this special "Observation Room" project. "How are you feeling?" The witch's voice was calm, tinged with concern.
The Black Robe Wizard shook his still somewhat heavy head and answered hoarsely.
"I feel much better... Professor Lina. That... chaotic feeling that had been plaguing me seems to have suddenly disappeared. But I also... seem to have forgotten a lot of things."
As someone involved in the incident, he still retains some Embers of it, and it may take several more days for things to calm down completely, which also signifies the complete stabilization of time and space.
The witch known as Lina's mentor nodded slightly, and a hint of imperceptible understanding and emotion flashed in her eyes. The correction of the timeline has been completed. The related memory blockade and reconstruction are the natural choices of history.
at this point.
Only those who left that place and the great Raven know the truth.
In truth, no one else needs to know, Lina thought to herself, as she softly said, "Some memories aren't necessarily ones you have to find. There's no need to force them."
Just remember your mission.
She paused, her gaze shifting to one side of the room. Where there should have been another wall, now stood a massive, incredibly heavy Bronze Door.
The door was tightly shut, etched with incredibly complex ancient patterns that did not belong to the popular magic systems of today. At the center was a huge, abstract emblem that seemed to combine a bird with a shadow—the Seal of the Raven.
The door exudes an aura of desolation, antiquity, and mystery, completely out of place with the modern style of the Ministry of Magic, yet it seems to have existed here since time immemorial.
"This door..."
The Black Robe Wizard followed Lina's gaze. The Bronze Door gave him a strange sense of familiarity, as if his heartbeat resonated with it, but he couldn't recall any specific connection.
"Has it always been here? What... is inside?" He realized; their mission was to guard this door and await its opening. Instructor Lina walked to the Bronze Door, gently stroking its cold surface bearing the Raven emblem, her gaze becoming distant and profound. "This is the ' Gate of the Watcher,'" she said slowly, her voice carrying a rhythmic, almost legendary quality, "Its existence predates even the Ministry of Magic itself. One of the highest duties of our Department of Mysteries is to guard this door, and... to silence an ancient legend associated with it."
Lina reminisced about the past.
I also recalled that absurd and unspeakable experience.
Sometimes.
The stories told by those who experienced them firsthand may differ greatly from the stories that are widely circulated.