London, Fraer Village.
"Crunch."
The dark wizard Modell savored his dinner, ravenously gnawing on the bone in his hand.
It was his seventh day since escaping from Azkaban. Ministry of Magic Aurors had been unusually active lately, and he had already evaded at least three patrols.
Even in a tiny rural place like this, Modell hadn't let his guard down. He kept a tight grip on the cherrywood wand—though it felt awkward, he'd stolen it from some unlucky bloke on the black market.
That wand was what had given him the means to protect himself.
In that respect, he'd been pretty lucky.
"Wooo-ooo!"
As he gnawed on the bone, a piercing siren suddenly blared.
Modell froze in alarm.
Hidden behind a pile of firewood, he peered out warily and saw several Ministry of Magic Aurors flying overhead on broomsticks.
"What a pain."
Modell cursed under his breath and huddled motionless behind the wood.
He couldn't understand why these Aurors were acting like madmen, relentlessly hunting down prisoners like him.
Wasn't Soren of Death Blossom the Ministry of Magic's greatest enemy?
"Maybe I should head to Heaven Street after all."
While in prison, he'd learned through various channels that a new organization had risen to prominence: Death Blossom.
Death Blossom's leader, the "Demon Lord" Soren, was a ruthless man who'd set the Ministry of Magic ablaze all by himself. His organization had grown rapidly, and across Europe, it was nearly on equal footing with the Ministry of Magic.
But Modell didn't like being under anyone's thumb. He liked his freedom.
So, unlike most escapees, he hadn't gone to seek refuge with Death Blossom. Instead, he'd planned to flee abroad and start a new life.
But now, it seemed finding a boss and clinging to a powerful patron might be the best