Dear Severus Snape?
That form of address made Severus Snape feel utterly sick.
Of course, it had once been so familiar, so dear to him.
But now, none of it meant anything anymore.
Killing Voldemort had become all the more important.
"What an utterly disgusting thing to call me, Voldemort."
When Snape was serious, he was cold-and strikingly handsome.
He hated Voldemort. If not for Voldemort's actions, Lily Evans would never have died.
Had Lily Evans lived, everything would have been different.
Voldemort burst into laughter at Snape's words.
"How nostalgic, Severus."
"You were once my most loyal subordinate. How deeply I trusted you."
"But now? You stand against me."
"That saddens me."
Voldemort slowly rose into the air, countless wisps of black mist swirling around him. He looked somewhat like Snape did at that moment.
Both radiated immensely powerful auras, and they seemed evenly matched.
"Severus, let me see just what you are capable of now."
Voldemort remained utterly confident in himself.
He had been before, and he still was now.
As the Death God's emissary, his strength was naturally formidable, comparable to that of an eight-winged angel.
"You will die."
Snape would never forget Lily Evans's death. He had to avenge her.
Instinctively, Snape glanced at Harry Potter.
After enduring in silence for so long, it was time to settle everything.
"Shadow Song."
Snape had no desire to waste any more words on Voldemort and struck instantly.
A disc of dark element energy formed before Snape, then fired countless thin rays in an instant.
Voldemort sneered at the sight and waved his wand. The mist swirling around him surged forward like a raging flood.
The incoming attack was swallowed by the black mist, leaving Voldemort completely unharmed.
Snape did not care in the slightest.
The Voldemort of today