Faced with his master's question.
The Death Eater did not dare answer, only lowering his head even further.
Voldemort turned around.
Three scarlet eyes looked down upon the Death Eater kneeling on the ground, trembling uncontrollably. The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, revealing a cold, meaningful smile.
"Keep investigating." He gave his careful, cautious order. "Raven, Grindelwald, Dumbledore—don't let a single one of those three escape."
The Death Eater hurriedly nodded. "Yes, Master!"
He was about to withdraw when Voldemort called him back.
"Wait."
The Death Eater froze where he stood, cold sweat pouring down his body.
Voldemort walked up to him and looked down at him. Something unfathomable flickered in those scarlet eyes.
"I need someone," Voldemort said, his voice gentle and dangerous. "Someone loyal enough, powerful enough, and... suitable enough to be remade."
The Death Eater raised his head. A flicker of fear passed through his eyes, along with a trace of barely suppressed... anticipation.
"Master, you mean to—"
Voldemort raised a hand, cutting him off. He offered no explanation, merely saying, "Bring me the list. Those worth cultivating, those willing to give everything for the cause."
The Death Eater hurriedly nodded and scrambled out on hands and knees.
Voldemort returned to the stone table and looked down at the mirror. His fingers lightly brushed its surface, and the dim blue light danced at his fingertips, reflecting his twisted, inhuman face.
"Raven..." he murmured. "Grindelwald... Dumble—"
He smiled. On that torn mouth full of sharp teeth, the smile looked especially savage, especially mad.
"Run. Hide. Play dead."
He withdrew his hand and turned toward the exit of the Chamber of Secrets. The tentacles behind him swayed softly, like some sort of celebratory dance.
"Soon, none of you will have anywhere left to hide."
In the corridor,