Warning: Sauron has a lot of names. If you don't recognize a name it's probably Sauron.

Around a blue gem, darkness gathers. The Jewel glows, and the darkness whirls around it, faster and faster. It coalesces into a man, tall and fair, distinctly powerful: The Lord of Gifts Annatar, the Betrayer, The Dark Lord Zigûr, the Shadow, the cruel, the abhorred, the Maia Sauron.

He steps out of the shadows, and into the sun. He takes hold of the strange jewel full of power, and keeps it close. He breathes in deeply the cold Eastern wind. He is alone, but civilization is nearby. He can smell the exhaust from their craft. The Maia marches to the nearby city, and finds a thing of wonder.

Metal buildings, stretching high into the sky as far as the Eye can see. Other metal contraptions travel at great speeds, rumbling across the streets. Progress has not stopped since he was… hurt… he muses. Even without his guidance humanity moved along, broken and fractured but not stagnant as the Maiar and Elves.

It matters not. Soon he will restore order to Arda; they will be united under him, no more to fight amongst themselves. He marches into the city, deftly hiding himself as a foreigner, eager to learn the ways of their people.

Days pass. He learns the truth of the modern day. Grand weapons have been forged, almost on par with some of the Maiar. He does some forging himself: making the jewel into a brooch, kept on hand to draw power from in his weakened state.

The people of this modern world are weak, as expected. The poor and destitute are always easy victims for his cults, but now even those with jobs are desperate for another way.

Those who live say after day of stressful work, not getting a break. Sacrificing personal life for efficiency in the workplace. The artisan disapproves; they are already losing population. This society would sacrifice the long term for short term gain. Truly, the reason why a Maia needs to be in charge: to protect them from themselves, those shortsighted humans.

They are easy pickings for his cult. They know nothing of Morgoth, of his true ways, and are not as resistant to corruption as the Numenoreans were. A simple display of magic and they all but beg to serve him. Soon, he has dozens of followers, ready to do as he, Amandiltar, commands in exchange for glory. A small force, but it will only grow before he must strike.

The Maia of the Forge spends time researching the new technology on this Earth. Electricity! He never expected it to be worth much. But it is in fact the key to so many problems, the current of progress. He studies and he gathers power. He lives in a commandeered house, large enough to host meetings of his faithful, and inducts each one into servitude.

Weeks pass. The Maia grows in strength, and his cult grows in numbers and power, expanding to other cities. The Dark Lord sends agents to take position in the government, under his new party Durbatulûk. Those who would be the leaders against him have been killed, forcing emergency elections across the country. Others, already politicians, he keeps in place, to sabotage his enemies' efforts, after he has stricken. The smith learns and forges the new crafts of this world, awesome weapons made greater and more awful under his power.

He surveys this city of his domain, finding useless structures and planning how to replace them. Once he has been 'elected' leader of this city, he will uplift it to new heights and efficiency. The single housing shall be replaced with multi-floor apartments, the businesses united, and these parks will be replaced with industry.

The Lord of Arda surveys one now, a pathetic green thing, when he spots an adolescent playing inside. He would normally ignore the irrelevant things, but this one seems to be controlling some sort of rose sphere which is hitting a can in the air.

He has not seen technology capable of doing anything like this. A simple demonstration, but an agile flying object easily controlled, without even visible propulsion? That is far beyond what the men of this Earth have done.

"Little man. How is it you control that rose sphere in the air?"

She flinches, as if struck, and the sphere disappears. "W-what?"

"What was that rosy orb you were commanding?"

"I wasn't doing anything." She starts to back away, towards a bench that has a book bag and necklace. He lets her reach it; let her feel safe.

"I never said you weren't. Now, do not lie. You should not be deceiving." She still seems wary. He looks around-the park is empty. If needs must, he can kidnap her and force her to tell him.

She puts on the necklace and grabs hold of it tightly. It likely is some sort of-wait. He can see magic in it.

"I clearly saw what you were doing. What sort of device did you use? Does it relate to that necklace?" She flinches when he says necklace. Pubescent men are so bad at lying.

"Who are you?" she asks vigorously, clearly unafraid. The fool.

"I apologize for the lack of introductions. I am Amandiltar. Who are you?" Giving his name should be of no consequence, and incite trust. As a child she likely won't even remember it.

"I'm Takamachi Nanoha. I was just playing in the park when you came up to me. What do you want?"

"I only wish to know what you were doing. I was curious, you see. That pink spheroid is unlike anything I have seen."

"I can't tell you."

"Whyever not?"

"It's a secret."

"I shan't tell anyone else, believe me."

"No!"

"Very well." Such a stubborn fool. He'll have the answer out of her soon enough, anyways. Kids go missing all the time, after all. The Dark Lord strides towards the girl, and prepares a fist to knock her out in one blow, hitting just the right way to cause little lasting harm.

She dodges. In a flash of light, her clothes change to a white and pink dress, and she holds a pink staff. He sees the magic flow through her, emerging and clashing with the area around her. This is clearly a warrior, disguised as a child. A cunning disguise, but it proved to be of no use. He unsheathes his sword.

She sends pink blasts his way, all to be stopped.
He deftly bends to evade, rends with his blade, defends to corrade.
The pink warrior flies into the air, only to be chopped.
She lies on the grass, to be given no aid.
She stands up and forms a circular shield.
He strikes it once, twice, thrice.
She charges a buster, only to find him concealed.
For he took cover behind a tree, and she was not precise.
The mage takes off to hover in the air,
but the shapeshifter transforms into a bat to give chase.
She flies away, but he follows her to somewhere
he may make her fight face to face.
She stops, standing still in the sky, runes around
her in a circle, a magic spell to be cast.
He strikes at her, to make her downed
but she stays up until the time she has left has past.

The dark bat flaps in the sky, scowling. He will have to anticipate more of these warriors disguised as children, and deal with them. All in due time.