Death (Part 1)

Led by Harry, Lin An Alvin Bones entered that dust-covered classroom once again.

The room was eerily quiet. Silvery-gray light streamed through the shattered windowpanes, illuminating the ancient mirror standing at its center—the Mirror of Erised.

Its golden frame was carved with runes, and the reversed inscription at the top shimmered in the moonlight: "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi."

Lin An silently recited its true meaning: "I show not your face but your heart's desire."

"Professor," Harry said quietly, "it always shows me my parents."

He raised his head, unease glinting in his eyes.

Lin An stepped closer and gazed at the mirror's surface.

The reflection refracted two figures—a boy wearing a bewildered expression, and a man whose gaze was as calm as the deep sea.

He said softly, "This mirror is very old, several centuries older than Hogwarts itself.

Its maker was no ordinary wizard, but an alchemist—they attempted to turn the mirror into a 'Soul Gate,' allowing people to look directly into their hearts through it."

Harry looked up in confusion. "A Soul Gate?"

Lin An nodded. "Human desire is the reflection of the soul. The more one desires something, the deeper it is buried in the subconscious.

This mirror does not show the future or reveal the truth. It only reflects the shape of desire.

Watch it for too long, and it will consume you."

He reached out, his fingertips gliding over the mirror frame.

Purple magic flickered in his eyes—his self-created Alchemical Eye, capable of analyzing the structure of any magical object.

The mirror surface trembled faintly, and the runes flowed. He saw layer upon layer of energy circuits circulating within it—emotions, memories, magic, and fluctuations of the soul intertwined into a complex formation.

Ancient runes were sealed within the mirror: Desiderium et Mortem—Desire and Death.

"Professor, what did you see?" Harry could not help asking.

Lin An replied evenly, "I saw... countless worlds."

Images flashed through the mirror—towering spires, seas of stars, machinery, runes, fire, civilizations, and collapse.

Those were the desires truly buried in his heart: knowledge, order, eternity.

He turned to Harry, his gaze gentle. "Do you know why this mirror is dangerous?"

"Because it makes people obsessed?"

"Correct. But the deeper danger is that it makes you believe that 'desire' is 'truth.'

Once someone mistakes what they long for as reality, they lose their judgment."

He slowly raised his wand, and the mirror surface trembled as golden light spread outward.

"It uses the soul as a medium, absorbing the observer's Emotional Energy to sustain its operation.

In other words, it is not merely a magical object, but a 'resonant life-form.'"

Harry sucked in a breath. "It... is alive?"

"In a sense, yes," Lin An said softly. "And it is connected to 'death.'"

The boy's eyes widened. "Death?"

Lin An stared at the mirror for a long while before finally speaking slowly. "Harry, have you heard the legend of the Peverell Brothers?"

Harry shook his head.

"It is an ancient tale—the three wizards attempted to deceive Death, and they created three powerful magical artifacts.

One could summon back the dead, one could grant invincibility, and one could hide its bearer from Death's gaze.

Yet in the end, they all died."

His tone was calm, as though he were recounting a fate that had long been ordained.

"So, it's just a fable?"

"No." Lin An turned, his gaze profound. "Death truly exists."

The air abruptly froze.

The boy stared blankly at him, not knowing how to respond.

Lin An continued, "Twelve years ago, I faced 'Death' during an experiment.

It was neither an illusion nor a spell gone out of control.

It was a consciousness, a law that did not depend on physical form.

We call it Death, but it is more like—a mechanism by which the world repairs itself.

When life violates order, Death appears and restores the balance."

He raised his hand, and the reflection in the mirror changed with it—an endless black river, with souls floating within it like fireflies.

Harry held his breath, seemingly feeling a chill spread up from the soles of his feet.

"Professor, you saw it with your own eyes?"

"Yes," Lin An said quietly. "At the time, I had just completed my first soul experiment.

I tried to reconstruct a dead person's consciousness, but at the final step, I saw a hand—a hand made of shadows—reach out from the void.

It did not attack me. It merely touched my chest lightly.

At that moment, I heard it say, 'Those who wish to control death must first coexist with death.'"

He paused, his expression so calm it was almost detached.

"From that day onward, I began to understand one fact—death is not an enemy, but a law.

To transcend it, one must first understand it."

Harry murmured, "Then... were you afraid?"

Lin An smiled faintly. "Fear is part of human nature, but I fear ignorance even more.

Death is not an ending, but a transformation.

Isn't the essence of magic the triumph of will over the body?"

As soon as he finished speaking, an unusual light suddenly spread across the mirror.

Their reflections overlapped in the light, and Lin An's shadow suddenly split into a third outline—

Blurred, distorted, yet smiling.

It was a face he knew well.

Lin An narrowed his eyes slightly, raised his wand, and murmured, "...So that's how it is."

The light abruptly died. The mirror returned to stillness.

He gently patted Harry on the shoulder. "Remember, Potter. Do not come here again.

This mirror does not merely reflect desire—it responds to those who gaze into it."

Harry nodded hesitantly.

Lin An turned and left, his footsteps echoing through the corridor.

Behind him, the blurred shadow in the mirror was still swaying faintly,

As though silently watching his retreating back.

—Death was never absent.