Lucas's eyes open, the remnants of his restless sleep clinging to his mind like cobwebs. He sits up, his heart still racing from the strange dreams that have been haunting him for weeks. The sheets beneath him are damp with sweat, and he can feel the moisture on his skin, making his clothes stick uncomfortably. Another night of this. Why can't I shake these dreams? And why am I sweating so much?
He runs a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against his forehead. It tingles slightly at his touch. Nyx, his faithful companion, stirs at the foot of the bed, her scales rustling softly against the sheets.
"Morning, Nyx," Lucas hisses, his voice still rough from sleep.
Nyx lifts her head, her eyes glinting in the soft morning light. "Good morning, Lucas," she replies, her tongue flicking out to taste the air. "What are you doing today?"
Lucas swings his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet hitting the cool wooden floor. He stretches, feeling the tension in his muscles ease slightly. "I was going to practice magic as usual," he says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But I think it's time to move forward with my plans. I'm going to hit a smaller oil refinery today. The faster I act, the sooner I can leave all this behind."
He stands up, but doubt was clear on his expression. Am I moving too quickly? Should I be more careful? He shakes his head, pushing the weird thought away. No, I can't afford to hesitate. I have to keep moving forward, no matter what.
In the bathroom, Lucas lets the hot water of the shower wash over him, steam filling the small space. As he washed, his mind was filled with thoughts of his next move. The Porth Arthur refinery, the Exxon Valdez tanker, the Amuay Refinery... I've already caused so much chaos. But I can't stop now. I have to see this through to the end.
He dresses quickly, pulling on a simple t-shirt and jeans. The fabric feels rough against his skin, a reminder of the world he's trying to leave behind. Downstairs, he finds Vernon and Petunia huddled on the couch, their eyes glued to the television.
The news anchor, a well-dressed woman with a serious expression, looks directly into the camera as she speaks. "In a shocking turn of events, a series of attacks on oil refineries and tankers around the world has left authorities scrambling for answers. The Porth Arthur refinery in the United Kingdom, the Exxon Valdez tanker in Alaska, and the Amuay Refinery in Venezuela have all been targeted within the past few weeks, leading many to believe that a new terrorist organization may be behind these incidents."
The screen cuts to footage of the damaged refineries, flames and smoke billowing into the sky. Petunia gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh, Vernon, this is terrible! What if they attack somewhere close to us?"
Vernon's face is grim, his eyes narrowed as he watches the news. "They better catch these bastards soon. We can't have them running around blowing things up like this."
The anchor continues, "Experts are concerned that these attacks may be connected, given the close timing and the similar nature of the targets. The United States and the Soviet Union, already locked in a tense Cold War, have both expressed their concern over these incidents. Some officials fear that if the perpetrators are not brought to justice soon, it could lead to an escalation of hostilities between the two superpowers."
Petunia shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "Nuclear war... I never thought I'd live to see the day. What kind of world are we leaving for our children?"
Vernon puts a comforting arm around his wife, but his face is etched with worry. "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that, Pet. Surely, they'll find who's responsible before things get out of hand."
The news anchor shuffles her papers, her expression somber. "Authorities are urging anyone with information about these attacks to come forward. In the meantime, security has been heightened at oil refineries and other critical infrastructure around the world. We will continue to bring you updates on this developing story as more information becomes available."
Vernon mutes the television, turning to Petunia with a sigh. "Well, that's just great, isn't it? As if we didn't have enough to worry about, now we've got terrorists blowing up oil refineries."
Petunia dabs at her eyes with a tissue, sniffling softly. "I just don't understand why anyone would do something like this. What do they hope to achieve?"
Lucas watches the news silently, his stomach twisting with unease. What if I'm making things worse? What if my actions are pushing the world closer to war? For a moment, he once more feels a hint of doubt, but it's quickly pushed aside by determination. No, I can't let myself be swayed by fear. I have to keep going, no matter the cost.
He turns away from the television, his mind already racing with plans. "I'm going to work on my projects," he says, his voice calm. "I'll be in my room if you need me."
Upstairs, Lucas pulls out his Divination Orb, the smooth surface cool against his fingers. This is one of my greatest creations. With this, I can scry anywhere, anytime, without being limited by location or knowledge. It amplifies my scrying abilities, allowing me to see things I never could before.
He runs his fingers over the network of spell-infused blood capsules inside the orb, smirking at their complexity. The Thermal Currents of the Vast Sea, using air, water, and the sun's warmth to detect heat. And the Glow of the Depths, combining fire, earth, and the moon's cold to channel moonlight into the sea floor.
The Glow of the Depths is a particularly fascinating aspect of the Divination Orb. By channeling moonlight into the sea floor, it creates a luminescent network that is highly sensitive to disturbances. Any movement on or below the ocean floor disrupts the delicate balance of thermal and luminous energy, creating patterns that can be interpreted as the presence and movements of living beings.
It's like a vast, underwater web, Lucas muses, his eyes fixed on the swirling depths of the orb. Every step, every flutter of a fin, sends ripples through the network, allowing me to sense life without ever laying eyes on it directly...
He focuses on the orb, his brow furrowing in concentration. Slowly, an image begins to take shape within the shimmering depths. Ras Tanura Refinery, Saudi Arabia. One of the largest oil refineries in the world, and my next target.
He studies the image closely, taking in every detail. The sprawling complex of pipes and tanks, the workers moving about like ants, the heavy security presence. The Saudi military is on high alert, but unworthy Muggles like them won't be able to stop me. Not with the power I wield.
For a moment, his eyes struggle with unclear emotions. Is this really the right thing to do? Attacking refineries, causing chaos and destruction... it's a huge risk, not just for the Statute of Secrecy, but for myself. If the Magical Governments find out what I'm capable of...
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But the doubt is quickly silenced. No, I can't stop now. I've come too far to turn back. This is my destiny, my path to greatness. I have to see it through to the end, no matter the cost.
He sets the orb down, already thinking of his next steps. I'll need to be careful, move quickly and strike hard. The Thermal Currents and the Glow of the Depths will give me an edge, allowing me to sense any threats before they can get close. And with my elemental powers, I'll be unstoppable.
Lucas stands up, grabbing his pouch and slinging it over his shoulder. The weight of it is comforting, a reminder of all the tools and weapons he has at his disposal. It's time. Time to show the world what I'm capable of, to take another step towards my ultimate goal.
He glances at Nyx, who is watching him with her unblinking eyes. "I'll be back soon," he hisses, his voice low and determined. "Keep an eye on things here for me."
Nyx nods, her tongue flicking out to taste the air. "Be careful, Lucas."
A cold smile spreads across his face, not quite reaching his eyes. "I always am."
He turns and walks out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the house. No more hesitation, no more doubts. It's time to act, to show the world what true power looks like.
oo0ooOoo0oo
Lucas moves swiftly through the Ras Tanura Refinery, his hands weaving intricate patterns in the air as he summons earth spikes from the ground. The spikes, wrapped in flames, pierce the massive storage tanks, and the stench of burning oil fills the air, thick and choking. The tanks groan and buckle under the assault, their contents spilling out in a cascade of black liquid and noxious fumes.
This is child's play, Lucas thinks, a smirk playing on his lips. These Muggles are like insects, scurrying about in confusion.
But his triumph is fleeting. Without warning, the air is rent by a cacophony of pops, like a string of firecrackers exploding in rapid succession. Lucas's senses, amplified by his Thermal Currents of the Vast Sea, immediately pick up on the presence of over 20 wizards and witches encircling him, mounted on brooms and flying carpets.
Fuck, he thinks, his heart rate spiking. How did they locate me so quickly? I should be invisible, thermally masked, silent... I should be undetectable.
His first instinct is to run, to melt into the shadows and regroup. But then he feels a warm tingle on his forehead, and a surge of arrogance floods through him. No, he thinks, his smirk morphing into a full-fledged grin. I won't flee from these lesser beings. They think they can gang up on me, but they have no clue what they're up against. I'll demonstrate the true power of magic.
The ICW wizards and witches can't see him directly, but Lucas can feel their magical artifacts zeroing in on his position. In unison, they raise their wands, deadly curses streaking through the air towards him.
"Take him down!" shouts a grizzled wizard, his face scarred and his eyes hard. "Don't let him escape!"
"Yes!" replies a witch with short, spiky hair. "Bombarda Maxima!"
Pitiful, Lucas thinks, almost casually raising a hand. A sphere of earth rises up around him, effortlessly deflecting the curses. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the sphere shatters into innumerable fragments, each one banished outwards with immense force.
The impact is instant and catastrophic. The shards of earth tear through the refinery, puncturing storage tanks and setting the oil ablaze. Gigantic fireballs blast into the sky, the ground quaking with the force of the explosions. Muggles on the ground cower in terror, their screams of horror swallowed by the roar of the inferno.
The ICW hit squad disapparates to evade the destruction, but they're back in a heartbeat, casting powerful Confringo spells in unison.
"Surround him!" barks the scarred wizard. "Don't give him a chance to counterattack!"
Lucas senses movement in his peripheral vision, and he spins just in time to see a small hawk flying towards him, transforming mid-air into a wizard.
An Animagus, Lucas realizes, his eyes narrowing. Smart, but not smart enough.
The wizard hurls a small plant at him, but Lucas is already in motion. A beam of Frostfire bursts from his hand, engulfing the Animagus wizard's body completely. There's nothing left, not even ashes. The wizard's scream is abruptly cut off as the Frostfire consumes him, his flesh melting and his bones turning to dust.
Lucas saw the small plant move through the air, its leaves quivering. A Mandrake!, he gasps, recognition dawning. Its cry is fatal to anyone who hears it…
But Lucas is prepared. A barrier of air forms around him, keeping the Mandrake's deadly sounds at bay. At the same time, he reaches out with his magic, seizing control of two pieces of a destroyed oil tank. They slam together like a giant metal sandwich, crushing the Mandrake between them. A sickly green liquid oozes from the crushed plant, hissing and bubbling as it eats through the metal.
Too easy, Lucas thinks, a hint of boredom creeping into his thoughts. Is this really the best the ICW can do?
But he knows he can't afford to get complacent. He pulls out his Elemental Sphere, focusing his mind on the Elemental Tornado visualization. Instantly, a massive vortex of elements forms around him, with Lucas at its eye. Earth and ice shards swirl around him, blocking curses from all sides, while tentacles of fire, water, and lightning lash out at the ICW wizards.
Some of them cast Aegis Duplex, absorbing the physical and magical attacks and using the energy to fuel their own spells. Spheres of crackling energy appear, honing in on Lucas like heat-seeking missiles. They merge into one massive orb, pulsing with raw power.
"Pour it on!" shouts the spiky-haired witch. "He can't keep this up forever!"
Fuck, Lucas thinks, his eyes widening. That's not good.
He tries to apparate away, but his wand merely tingles in his hand. An Anti-Apparition Jinx, he realizes, gritting his teeth. They've thought of everything, haven’t they?
He urges his flying carpet to soar backwards, putting some distance between himself and the energy sphere. At the same time, he fires multiple Frostfire Beams from his body into the Elemental Sphere, doubling their size and intensity.
Come on, he thinks, sweat beading on his forehead as he pours more and more power into the beams. Die already, you bastard.
Slowly, painfully, the energy sphere begins to shrink, the Frostfire Beams eating away at its power. But then Lucas sensed movement behind him, and he turns to see an ICW wizard raising his wand, a bolt of lightning already arcing towards him.
"Gotcha now, you son of a bitch!" the wizard snarls, his face twisted in a triumphant grin.
Lucas's shield absorbs the impact, but sparks still shower down around him. Damn it, he thinks. I can't keep this up forever.
He splits his focus, one hand still firing Frostfire Beams at the dwindling energy sphere, the other seizing control of a nearby storage tank. With a grunt of effort, he sends it crashing down on the ICW wizard, crushing him like an insect. The wizard's body is flattened, blood and viscera splattering across the ground in a grisly mess.
But the effort takes its toll. Lucas's forehead burns with a sudden, searing pain, and he can't help but flinch. What the hell? he thinks, shaking his head to clear it. Why does my scar hurt so much?
He turns back to the energy sphere, relieved to see that it's finally dissipated. The ICW hit squad is still out there, and Lucas knows he could take them if he had to. But more wizards are approaching from all sides, their thermal signatures growing stronger by the second.
I have to get out of here, Lucas realizes, his heart sinking. I can't win this fight, not yet.
He urges his flying carpet to rise higher, putting more distance between himself and his pursuers. At the same time, he channels his magic through the Elemental Sphere, forming a massive gale at his back to propel him forward. A teardrop-shaped bubble of air forms around him, streamlining his body and reducing air resistance.
Faster, Lucas thinks, his eyes narrowing in concentration. I have to go faster.
The ICW wizards fall behind, their brooms and carpets no match for Lucas's elemental magic. He feels the Anti-Apparition Jinx weakening as he moves further away, and he seizes his chance.
With a crack of displaced air, Lucas apparates, vanishing from the refinery and reappearing miles away. He doesn't stop there, apparating again and again, more than twenty times in rapid succession. Have to keep moving, he urges himself, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Can't let them catch me.
Finally, when he's sure he's put enough distance between himself and his pursuers, Lucas allows himself to slow down. His flying carpet drifts to a stop, hovering in midair as he catches his breath.
That was too close, he thinks, his heart still racing in his chest. I underestimated them. I won't make that mistake again.
He looks down at his hands, still trembling with adrenaline. I need to be more careful. Why am I being so eager for quick success when my body is still so young, just nine and a half years old? What’s going on with me?