"Damn it, Dumbledore and Snape."
In the pitch-black shadows, Quirrell's eyes brimmed with boundless resentment.
With those two there, he was never going to get the Philosopher's Stone tonight.
"Go back."
Sharing Quirrell's point of view, Voldemort felt his spirits sink.
But he had endured for so many years. A temporary setback was nothing to him. He only had to hide his fangs and endure a little longer.
"Yes, Master."
Quirrell responded respectfully in his mind, wrapped himself in his cloak, and left without a sound.
He crossed the corridors, went down the stairs, evaded the patrolling professors, and returned to his office without a hitch.
But just then, the unexpected happened!
"Vmmm."
Space began to warp, bit by bit, and everything turned into wildly distorted shapes.
Quirrell jumped in fright and instinctively drew his wand. Voldemort sensed danger, too, and snapped alertly to attention.
What was happening?
"Stay calm, Quirinus. Relax."
Voldemort had once been a menace in his own right, and quickly forced himself to calm down. He began trying to take control of the body.
This wasn't how he'd planned things, but there was no time to worry about that now!
Quirrell felt a wave of dizziness and lost consciousness completely. Voldemort, who had temporarily gained control of the body, gripped the wand—an awkward fit for him—and slowly backed away.
"It wasn't Dumbledore. That old fossil doesn't have this kind of power. So who is it?"
A thousand unanswered questions surged through his mind as he cautiously backed toward the door.
Unfortunately, a vast, overwhelming magical force had sealed the place off.
"Boom!"
Space shattered like a mirror, and endless darkness surged in.
Voldemort finally panicked!
"No!"
It was like being struck by lightning while taking a stroll in the garden. He hadn't been prepared for this at all.
Who was it!
Who was plotting against the Great Dark Lord!
"Emperor Among Emperors, King Among Kings."
Whispers sounded in his ears. They weren't in any language Voldemort knew, yet somehow he understood every word perfectly.
"Who? Who's there!"
Voldemort raised his wand as if to intimidate whatever was out there, his flat face twisted with fury.
"Dark Lord, ruler of all."
This time, the whispers were clearer.
"Come out, you bug! Die!"
Voldemort lifted his wand and hissed like a snake, his eyes blazing green.
Avada Kedavra!
"Great Will, supreme and sovereign."
But Voldemort's Killing Curse seemed to have no effect. The whispers sounded for a third time.
At the same moment, a pair of eyes slowly opened in the endless darkness!
Voldemort's breath caught.
What a sight.
A colossal, lidless eye, formed of fire and light, seemed to gaze upon all creation.
At a single glance, he could hardly stop himself from falling to his knees and worshipping!
"How can this be?"
Voldemort's mouth went dry. For the first time, he doubted his own power.
Horcruxes? Magic? Followers?
They all seemed laughable before this eye.
But...
Why was there no mention in any book of someone like this—or rather, of such a terrifying being?
It made no sense!
The colossal eye looked down on everything without emotion.
His mind reeled, and he was plunged into an unfamiliar world.
Wind, thunder, rain, snow.
Endless lightning and floodwaters swallowed everything. Voldemort's soul was like a lone boat, torn to pieces by the overwhelming force of nature.
He didn't know how long it lasted. Maybe a second, maybe a thousand years—or ten thousand.
Amid unbearable pain, he went from screaming to numbness, and for a time, gave up thinking altogether.
At last, darkness swallowed everything.
Or rather, everything became darkness.
One with the darkness, Voldemort lay curled up, when a feeling beyond words suddenly stirred within him.
Everywhere, all-powerful!
"This is... the trial of fate."
Murmuring to himself, he slowly opened eyes he didn't know how long he'd kept shut.
Before him floated a tiny, insignificant being.
It looked familiar...
"So that's how it is."
Voldemort smiled.
He was the Dark Lord.
He was the Great Will.
King Among Kings, Emperor Among Emperors.
Fate had chosen him.
He was the chosen one—and the only one!
"Vmmm."
As if answering his revelation, the endless darkness surged like a tide.
As if in celebration.
Celebrating the birth of the true Dark Ruler!
Golden light appeared from nowhere, taking the form of a colossal ouroboros that blotted out the sky.
He, Voldemort, had finally carried out the will of his ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, to perfection.
No.
He was even greater than his ancestor.
He was immortal!
"My will shall rule over all."
He reached out and clenched his hand, as if a single palm could blot out the sky.
Voldemort murmured in a low voice. The ouroboros made of light gradually solidified and shrank.
At last, it turned into an old-fashioned ring.
On its smooth, gleaming face, gold engraving burned like flames.
Second floor of Hogwarts, girls' bathroom.
"Heh."
Klein opened his eyes, his face relaxed.
Honestly, this had been even easier than he'd imagined.
"Your ambition will become your poison. The stronger your desire for power, the deadlier that poison will be."
Illusion, psychological suggestion, a little curse, and a mark of enslavement...
Klein considered himself a reasonable person.
If Voldemort hadn't ruined his Bal Masqué, he never would have played such a "little trick" on him.
To prevent anything similar from happening in the future, it was only sensible to put a bridle on Old Snake.
"Oh, right. I nearly forgot."
Remembering the ring formed from Voldemort's will in the illusion, Klein blinked and pulled a coin from his pocket. He went to the washbasin and used the water residue to draw a simple alchemical array, then placed the coin in the middle.
A flash of light, and the coin disappeared. A solid gold ring lay quietly on the washstand.
"Hmm. What enchantments should I add?"
Replicating the appearance was easy, but the magic inside would take some thought.
Klein stroked his smooth chin with interest, then suddenly gave a mischievous grin.
"Soul Weakness. Magic Enhancement."
With a wave of his hand, he placed a curse and a blessing on the ring.
That wasn't all. Klein also took the time to cast a special spell on it: any unclean being that saw the ring would feel an irresistible greed for it, and the spell wouldn't work on anyone with a complete soul.
"I hope you like my gift."
Having gotten his revenge, Klein no longer felt angry with Voldemort.
He flicked out a wisp of Fiendfyre to deal with the Troll, then smiled faintly and gradually vanished.
He couldn't wait to see Voldemort's expression when he woke from the illusion and discovered that he really did have a ring in his hand.
It was sure to be hilarious~
Before you continue