The Death Eaters argued fiercely.
Faced with the speculation that Dumbledore was dead, many Death Eaters still feared Dumbledore's strength deep down.
Just like their master did.
"Not necessarily."
Sure enough, another Death Eater shook his head, his voice more cautious. "Dumbledore isn't someone who dies that easily. Maybe it's fake news deliberately released to lure us in."
This Death Eater had a brain.
However—
"Fake news? Half of Azkaban has been destroyed! All the Dementors escaped! Grindelwald betrayed us! Are those fake too?" There truly were not many Death Eaters with brains.
It was no lie that Dark Magic corroded the mind.
"That old lunatic Grindelwald was unreliable to begin with. Maybe she'd colluded with Dumbledore long ago—"
"Colluded? Didn't you see Dumbledore falling from the sky? There was a hole that big in his chest, and Fiendfyre was still burning—could that be staged?"
The argument grew fiercer and the voices louder, until an icy, gentle voice sounded behind them.
"Enough."
The two Death Eaters froze at the same time and whirled around.
Voldemort stood behind them. His body was concealed in the shadows, with only his three scarlet eyes burning in the darkness.
Like three stars from hell.
"M-Master..." The two Death Eaters dropped to their knees at once, pressing their foreheads against the cold floor, their entire bodies trembling.
Voldemort said nothing. He merely watched them in silence for a long time. His gaze was cold and calm, like an abyss staring at its prey. Then he slowly spoke, his voice gentle and hoarse.
"What news of Dumbledore?"
One Death Eater said tremulously, "M-Master, Nicolas Flamel took him away. There has been no news since. The Ministry of Magic... is keeping a tight lid on things. Our people have no way to access the core intelligence yet."