Kamen Rider Cronus

Squeak.

The sound of the door opening was particularly clear in the silent church.

Old Hanks drew his wand and pointed it at the church entrance.

"I heard you sold Lucius a wand?" It was a thin figure dressed in black robes, but his voice was strangely high-pitched and as cold and piercing as the wind.

For some reason, the sound made Hanks' sparse hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Who are you?" Old Hanks gripped his wand tightly, while his other hand rubbed the Portkey incessantly.

"I've cast Anti-Portkey Curse around you," the man said lazily.

To Old Hanks, pointing his wand was like looking at a stick.

"Anti-Portkey Curse? I've never heard of that." Old Hanks put down the Portkey.

"Are you trying to stall for time?"

"No one else can get in here now, not even wizards."

"You only have to answer my questions now!" His voice suddenly rose, becoming sharp and shrill.

"How should I address you?" Old Hanks took a deep breath, trying to appear calm.

"Hmph, that's my name!"

"Do you dare pronounce my name?" the man in black sneered.

"Voldemort!" Old Hanks exclaimed.

In the wizarding world, this is the only name that no one dares to utter.

"You—who are you?"

"Why?" Old Hanks stammered.

The man in the black robe lifted his hood, revealing a head paler than a skull, covered in blue veins, with two large, bloodshot eyes, a flat nose like a snake's, and nostrils that were just two thin slits.

"Oh, how clever!" Voldemort chuckled, his long, pale fingers tapping lightly on the wooden table, as if giving a reminder.

"Fenrir Greyback!" Old Hanks exclaimed, but the next second he wished he could strangle himself.

The more he knows, the closer he gets to death.

Fenrir Greyback is perhaps the most ferocious Werewolf in the world today.

He made it his mission to bite and infect as many people as possible, hoping to create a large number of Werewolf to defeat the wizard.

Fenrir Greyback specializes in children, biting them when they are young and then taking them away from their parents to instill a hatred of wizards in them.

He had messy gray hair and beard, sharp yellow teeth, mouth sores, and a strange smell that was a mixture of dust, sweat, and blood.

And the person in front of me, who was almost certainly Voldemort, had that smell on him.

Most importantly, he had seen Fenrir Greyback before, and although the man in front of him had changed drastically, he could still see Fenrir Greyback's shadow.

"You're really smart. It's impressive that you recognized him, considering this body was provided to me by him. He could have been just like Quirinus."

"If it weren't for that guy, he would have been the diary. My foolish servants betrayed me too, all for a guy who's only 17 years old!"

"And Harry Potter, they don't actually think he has more power than me— Voldemort, the most powerful Dark Wizard in history, do they?" Voldemort circled the table, perhaps because he hadn't spoken to anyone in a long time, or perhaps because he thought Old Hanks would soon die at his hands, he was unusually talkative.

Secrets that even his closest Death Eaters didn't know kept coming out of his mouth.

Old Hanks had considered rebelling, but a strange force suddenly bound him.

The secrets Voldemort spoke were like magic; as his words became more cryptic, the power grew deeper and stronger.

This is a ceremony!

To bind others in exchange for revealing one's own secrets.

"So, Voldemort might really be weak?" Old Hanks couldn't help but think.

Because he was unwilling to expend extra magic to cast a simple spell.

Instead, a more effortless ceremony was adopted.

However, even at his weakest, Voldemort was still much stronger than the current Old Hanks.

Old Hanks has now lost control of his body.

"You've already realized it, haven't you? I gave you a chance to answer my question— the Dark Lord's question. Now, I'll see for myself."

An unseen force slowly but surely turned Old Hanks' head toward Voldemort.

Those red eyes shone even brighter in the darkness, their pupils like two slits, like the eyes of a snake.

"Pause!" A majestic and deep voice rang in Voldemort's ears.

Before Voldemort could react, before he could even widen his eyes, everything came to a stop.

The faint sounds of wind rustling through leaves and mosquitoes flapping their wings that could be heard outside the church suddenly ceased.

It was as if time had suddenly stopped!

The distant, resounding tolling of bells began to ring, and the environment inside the church changed. Where the statue of the god had been, a huge clock appeared in place.

The chimes ceased, and as the clock hands ticked away, a figure appeared before the clock.

Time resumed its flow.

"You are!" As he said this, Voldemort's body turned into black smoke and ran away.

"How could this be!" Voldemort, who had just rushed out of the church, reappeared in human form in the same spot.

"The most powerful Dark Wizard?"

"I can't pretend I didn't hear that." Hearing this, Voldemort looked at the figure. He didn't look like a wizard at all. He was dressed like a Muggle, wearing a silver-gray suit, with his eyelids lowered.

"Who are you?!" Voldemort gasped for breath, while Old Hanks lay sprawled on the ground beside him.

"I'm just a Kamen Rider passing by, remember that!" A clock-like object appeared in the man's hand, along with a belt made of an unknown metal.

As the clock was inserted into the right side of the belt, the hands of the clock on the man's back pointed to the 12 o'clock position, and the bell began to chime.

"GASHAT! Transform!"

"BUGGLE UP".

"The riders of the heavens, etched in the annals of history, this moment is the ultimate moment!"

"Kamen Rider Cronus!" A suit of armor, entirely made of bronze and black, covered the person's body.

"Kronos, God of Time? How arrogant!" Voldemort raised his wand, and a beam of deathly green light shot towards the man.

"Pause!" Time stopped again.

The green light of death, which the Wizarding World believed could not be countered by any spell, stopped in front of that person.

Kick-tock, kick-tock.

Footsteps echoed in the silent church.

The man walked up to Voldemort.

"Shhh."

"A trial cannot be anything but serious."

"I hate those idiots who only know Avada Kedavra."

"You have no value to this world."

"Voldemort is now a collector's item!"

Time resumed its flow.

An explosion was heard, but no other sound was heard.

The church was restored to its original state.

It felt like everything that had just happened was a Jing Meng.

Old Hanks looked shakily in Voldemort's direction, and a pile of grayish-white dust proved that everything that had just happened was not a dream.

In a place unnoticed by Old Hanks, a wisp of black smoke vanished completely with the wind.