The terrifying, twisted, inhuman scream tore through the silence like something dragged from the depths of hell, reverberating through the Mirror Dimension and warping the space around like ripples through glass.
Clink… ting… ting… clink…
The locket twisted and thrashed on the ground, rattling loudly as pitch-black flames coiled around it. The fire moved like living serpents, cruel and hungry, wrapping tighter with each second, as if determined to drag something out from within.
A thick, shadowy mist began to leak from the cracks forming on the locket's surface, then poured out in writhing streams, gathering together before shaping itself into a twisted face.
It looked furious and in pain, but the cursed flames paid it no mind as they closed in, devouring the vile thing bit by bit. In just a matter of seconds, its screeches went from rage to guttural snarls, then turned into desperate pleas.
"What is that thing?"
Sirius Black stood behind Maverick and Ali, looking truly shaken by the horrific sight. And coming from a man who had spent more than a decade locked away in the deepest, darkest corners of Azkaban, his reaction said plenty about just how disturbing the scene really was.
"It's a soul… or it used to be," Maverick explained without looking back. "That locket was said to have once belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself… but now, it's been twisted into something purely evil."
"Whose soul do you think that is, Mr. Black?" he then asked the man, glancing slightly over his shoulder.
Sirius didn't need long to guess the answer. The locket had been found in his dead brother's room, and Regulus had once been a fanatical follower of the Dark Lord.
"Voldemort," the name slipped from his lips like a curse.
His fists clenched, and now that he knew whose soul it was—the same monster who had killed his closest friends—Sirius's fear faded quickly, replaced by a grim sort of satisfaction.
As the seconds passed, the blackened soul fragment thrashed and twisted, growing more and more desperate to escape. But without the locket to anchor it, there was nowhere for it to run. It couldn't fight. It couldn't hide.
Finally, after one last twisted shriek, it collapsed in on itself and crumbled into ash—gone for good. The whole thing hadn't taken long, really. From the moment Maverick had unleashed the Fiendfyre to now, barely a minute had passed.
"Is that it?" Ali glanced at Maverick, feeling the whole thing had ended a bit... anticlimactically.
Maverick hummed thoughtfully, then scanned the charred remains of the locket with his magic, checking for any lingering traces of anything unnatural.
He sensed nothing unusual. But just to be safe, he let the real expert have the final say.
With a flick of his finger, the burned lump of metal flew into his hand, and sure enough, the system didn't prompt anything from it.
"It's done, yes," he gave a short nod.
Sirius also stepped closer, frowning as he looked down at the blackened scrap. "How did the Dark Lord's soul end up in something my brother kept? I thought he was supposed to be dead?"
Maverick curled a smile, then closed his fist. The charred remains cracked and crumbled like brittle glass, slipping through his fingers and scattering as ash across the floor. Turning to the fugitive, he answered, "He never died, Mr. Black… but you just helped destroy a part of him. So, congratulations."
The world around them rippled.
The mirror-like warps in the walls began to smooth out. The shimmering bends in space snapped back into place. Edges sharpened. Colors deepened. And with a soft click, like glass settling into its frame, the Mirror Dimension peeled away—returning them once more to Regulus Black's old office.
"We're done here." Saying that, Maverick gave a slight nod, signaling it was time to leave.
"Wait!" Sirius stepped forward. "You can't just drop something like that and not explain anything. What the hell do you mean that madman isn't dead?" He wasn't convinced, and for good reason.
Maverick understood it as well. "My friend will fill you in, Mr. Black."
He had no intention of keeping the man in the dark, and telling him about old Voldy now wouldn't make any real difference to his plans anyway.
With that thought, he opened a portal in the middle of the room and stepped through. Behind him, Ali let out a quiet sigh, already thinking he would be stuck playing babysitter for this grown-ass walking trouble a while longer.
"Come, Sirius Black. We have a lot to talk about, and… I shall explain to you everything."
A couple of minutes later, they were back in the same residence where Sirius had first been brought to recover and heal.
"What you need to do now, Mr. Black, is focus on healing. The Ministry has mobilized the most unthinkable assets in their arsenal to search for you—all over London, and even at Hogwarts."
Sirius sat down on the bed, listening to Maverick's instructions—reluctantly, of course, since they mostly boiled down to one thing: he wasn't allowed to leave the place. That said, he understood the reason. He had more or less recovered by now, at least enough to think rationally.
He let out a bitter chuckle at the mention of unthinkable and muttered, "Does Fudge really think that highly of me? Sending Unspeakables, of all people?"
Maverick sneered and shook his head. "No. Although you're probably the first recorded escapee from Azkaban, you're still not relevant enough for those old relics to make a move. And Fudge... just because he runs the Ministry doesn't mean he has the power to order them either."
By now, Maverick had learned a great deal about the British Ministry of Magic from Lord Greengrass—things that weren't written down but were core secrets known only to the upper circle of power. One of these secrets involved the so-called Unspeakables. Apparently, there were two Great Magi among them who weren't registered with the ICW.
That also made him realize that much of what's on record might not be the full truth. Who knows how many old fossils are out there, quietly hiding their true abilities all over the magical world?
He paused at the thought, then added to his earlier remark, "It's your old buddies from Azkaban, the Dementors, who've been let loose to hunt you down."
"You're joking?" the fugitive asked, taken aback.
"I'm afraid not," Maverick said firmly. "Precisely it's because of those creatures, you have to stay hidden for now. They don't have eyes, but their senses are sharp, and they can detect magical signatures. So unless you can stay in your Animagus form indefinitely, even if you disguise your face as someone else, they can, and will, eventually track you down."
"Am I then supposed to stay here for Merlin knows how long until you finish whatever it is you have in mind?" Sirius asked again, though this time without the maddening rage. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not being ungrateful and can think clearly now, but it's just..."
"Not for long," Maverick cut him off. "I'm already working on something to disguise your face and suppress your magical signature. It'll take a couple of days, but until then, just stay put."
He glanced at Ali and added, "In the meantime, my friend here will fill you in—about what happened earlier, and about Tom Riddle too."
Of course, that wouldn't be all of his secrets—just enough to keep Sirius in the loop without it affecting anything important. Maverick didn't say that part out loud, and Ali understood it without needing him to spell it out.
The fugitive's face lit up at the mention of being able to move freely. He didn't doubt Maverick could deliver on what he had just promised and said gratefully, "I understand, and… thank you."
Maverick smiled inwardly. Finally, the man was cooperating sincerely, and the rest would be easy to handle. Glancing back at Ali, he said, "I'll return in a day or two. After that, you can take him along wherever you go."
Back to Sirius, he advised one last time, "remember, Mr. Black, this is all for your own good. Don't let our efforts go to waste. Follow Ali's instructions, and depending on how well you cooperate, we'll tell you more... like why I'm keeping Pettigrew captured instead of handing him over to the Ministry or killing him outright."
Sirius's fists clenched at the mention of the rat again, but he kept his temper in check and gave a stiff nod.
"Good." Maverick gave one last look, then turned and left the place.
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