Chapter 190: Dumbledore Won't Let You Come Play [bonus]
Regulus lay in bed, wide awake. Too much information churning through his head, rolling in like the waves outside his window.
Everything from the past days. Meeting Freya. The first encounter with the Abyssal Whispers. Casting the Decomposition Curse's second form. The burning island. The Slumbering Abyss. The presence.
Where had that thing come from?
How long had it existed? Thousands of years? Tens of thousands? Longer than humanity itself?
When it had conveyed those alternative frameworks, it had done so with such casual certainty, as though every spell in existence already had a second interpretation filed away in its depths.
He hadn't dwelt on that in the moment. Only now, replaying it, did the implication land.
Every spell in the modern wizarding world, every system, every magical construct, had already existed within that thing's frame of reference. That was why it could match each one, point to an alternate path for each one.
Because those paths had always been there. It was only pointing them out, like gesturing at doors that had been open all along.
It wasn't offering possibilities. It was stating things that had already been proven.