Location: London, a small alley near Wool's Orphanage
Time: A rainy night in 1932
Ares Phoenix's last conscious impressions were two dazzling lights twisting together and tearing apart, a sigh filled with endless regret and relief, and the crisp, icy sound of a glass bottle shattering.
Then came the fall.
An endless fall.
And then...
(￣﹃￣) → (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ → (.-`ω′-)
[System loading... Unknown spacetime turbulence detected... Anchoring coordinates...]
A voice that sounded somewhat electronically synthesized, yet inexplicably full of grievance and panic, rang out in Ares's chaotic mind.
"Ugh... so dizzy... gonna throw up..." Ares felt as if he had been stuffed into a washing machine. Even the act of thinking was unimaginably difficult.
[Warning! Warning! Insufficient energy! The vessel is too fragile! I-I'm going to fall! (;′??Д??`)]
"Fall... fall where?"
[Down there! Down there! You'll be smashed into a little pancake! Host, think of something! ?(????)?... No! It's (?Д?≡?Д?)!]
Something? He could not even move a finger. What could he possibly do?
Just when he thought he was about to become the fastest transmigrator in history to kick the bucket, a gentle yet resilient force caught him. Like an invisible hand, it slowed his descent.
[Whew...(′-ω-`) Safe landing... That was almost a game-over right at the start!]
Ares crashed hard onto the cold, wet stone pavement. Though he had not turned into a "little pancake," the impact still left him dazed, as if every bone in his body had come apart. Cold rain immediately slapped mercilessly against his face, jolting some clarity back into him.
He opened his eyes to an unusual sight: his left eye was azure blue, while his right was gray-black. He had discovered upon waking that this new body possessed heterochromia. Rain blurred his vision as he struggled upright and found himself lying in a filthy, narrow alley that reeked of garbage and damp mildew. In the distance, a gloomy building, seemingly devoid of all joy, stood within the curtain of rain.
"So this... is Wool's Orphanage?" he murmured. His voice carried the innocence of a child, yet it was hoarse and knowing in a way that did not belong to his age.
[Ding-dong! (??????)?? Correct! This is the mission location—Wool's Orphanage! Host, you're so smart!]
Ares—or rather, the current Ares—lowered his head to inspect his clearly shrunken body, clothed in oversized, tattered garments. Feeling the chaotic fragments of memories concerning "Albus Dumbledore," "Grindelwald," and that "Blood Pact" that had appeared in his mind, he let out a helpless sigh.
He was probably one of the most absurd transmigrators in history. He had not crossed over whole; he was more like a collection of consciousness and energy, using the legendary Living Blood Pact as its core to reconstruct a child's body in this world. He was a miracle—and an accident—born from the collision between Dumbledore's "love" and Grindelwald's "obsession" amid a spacetime storm.
"Host, host! Don't be discouraged! (′?ω?`) We have a mission! A great mission!" Sensing his low spirits, the system immediately tried to encourage him in a spirited—and childish—voice.
"A mission?" Ares leaned against the wet, freezing wall, letting rain wash over his cheeks. Beneath his left eye, a newly formed chain-like marking seemed to have been traced in golden blood, winding toward his temple and faintly heating beneath the rain. "That... Anchor Fate in the Shadows?"
[Yes, yes, yes! (ノ?ヮ?)ノ*:??? Our ultimate goal is—raising Tom Riddle! Stop him from becoming that noseless freak! Reform him with love! Surround him with warmth! Turn him into a good wizard of the new era who upholds the Five Principles, Four Virtues, and Three Loves!]
Ares: "..." The no-nose thing... seemed like it happened much later, didn't it?
He rubbed his aching forehead. "Speak normally."
[(.-`ω′-) Fine. Simply put, find him, stay with him, guide him, and don't let him grow up crooked. While we're at it... um, save the world?]
The system's voice grew quieter and quieter, eventually taking on a guilty note. "Of course, throughout this process, this system will serve you wholeheartedly! I'll provide necessary knowledge and a tiny bit of... truly only a tiny bit of help! After all, we don't have much energy! (???)"
Ares looked at his tiny palms and felt the strange magic flowing through this body—warm yet cold, brimming with vitality yet carrying a faint aura of destruction. With a bitter smile, he said, "In this state, I'm supposed to 'raise' the future Dark Lord who will make the entire wizarding world tremble? System, are you sure you aren't sending me to be his appetizer?"
The memory fragments in his mind told him that Tom Marvolo Riddle was no ordinary child who could be placated with candy and stories.
[Don't worry, Host! ?(????)? You're the 'Living Blood Pact'! A miracle of light and darkness! Your potential is limitless! And you have me—the cutest and smartest 'Guardian System' in history! We'll succeed!]
The system began making grand promises again. "First, we need to find a way to get into that orphanage..."
Just then, a muffled scream tinged with tears and several smug bursts of laughter came from the mouth of the alley, interrupting the system.
Ares instinctively shrank deeper into the shadows and cautiously peeked out.
Several older boys dressed in equally ragged clothes were surrounding a small figure. The child trapped in their midst had his back to Ares, concealing his face. Only his thin back, trembling faintly, could be seen.
"Freak! Hand over what you stole!" A tall boy viciously shoved him.
"I... I didn't steal it..." A soft yet exceptionally clear and calm voice answered, carrying restraint far beyond its years.
"Liar! We all saw it! Your weird little tricks!"
Another boy stepped forward, reaching for the hand he had clenched tightly. Just as that filthy hand was about to touch him—
Something changed.
There was no incantation and no wand. The small, besieged figure suddenly raised his head, and Ares caught sight of half his pale profile.
The boy trying to snatch the object immediately let out a terrified scream. As if he had been burned or electrocuted, he jerked his hand back and staggered several steps away. Pointing at the small boy, he stammered incoherently, "He... he used that trick again! It's witchcraft!"
Fear appeared on the faces of the boys around them, and they all backed away.
The boy called a "freak" slowly straightened. He turned around, his gaze sweeping coldly across his bullies.
In that instant, Ares saw his eyes clearly.
They were eyes of incomparably deep black, like the darkest night. There were no tears and no pleas within them—only an almost cruel calm, along with a suppressed storm on the verge of eruption. His hair was pure black like jade, and his features were exquisitely beautiful beyond gender, yet as cold as a marble statue.
He said nothing. He only looked at them.
Under his gaze, those older boys muttered a few hollow curses, then shoved one another and ran off in a hurry.
Silence returned to the alley, leaving only the sound of rain.
The black-haired boy stood where he was, breathing lightly. His clenched fist slowly relaxed, revealing what seemed to be a dirty but strangely shaped stone. He lowered his head, concealing his expression, but an aura of loneliness and... danger permeated him, blending into the cold, gloomy rainy night.
Ares held his breath.
He knew who the boy was.
Tom Riddle.
His future... target.
[High-energy response detected! (⊙?⊙) Target character located! Magical fluctuations: violent! Emotional state: extremely unstable! Danger rating: ★★☆ (currently a low threat to Host, but possesses extremely high potential)] [Initial mission triggered: The Beginning of Anchoring!] [Mission requirement: Establish the first non-hostile contact with the target without exposing your own abnormality.] [Mission reward: Basic Magic Stabilization Technique, a small amount of local currency.] [Host! (??????)?? Our great undertaking begins here! Go! Pika... no, Ares!]
Ares looked at the future Dark Lord's still-slender back as he stood alone in the rain, then felt his own equally weak body and the rather unreliable system in his mind.
He took a deep breath of the cold, rain-scented air.
This road appeared far more difficult than he had imagined.
And the first step was to walk toward that... abyss.
Before you continue