A.N. Truly sorry about the delay, had a lot of things going on and you know the rest, no time etc…
Bolas' Meditation Plane
Sarkhan Vol approached the massive dragon standing in the center of the plane. He never really understood his master's plans. The millennia old dragon made the most unusual schemes, and yet, once they are unraveled, it all seemed very obvious. One such example was the reuniting of Alara. Sarkhan just thought that his master liked the chaos that the war created. It wasn't until his master explained that all the magic that the mages used in the war was absorbed by the Maelstrom in the center of the plane and Bolas planned to use that energy to restore his powers. Being thousands of years old had to be exhausting.
Nicol Bolas, evil mastermind, power-hungry dragon planeswalker and all-around bad guy, eyed his slave. Sarkhan Vol, being a dragon worshipping shaman, made a good servant. He never questioned Bolas' orders. Although the matted hair and tattered clothes made Bolas frown. Here was the slave of the greatest being to traverse the multiverse and he looks like a beggar. Bolas' shook those thoughts away as he listened to his slave's report.
"Master," Vol started, "I have found a plane, far from Dominaria and the meddling of the…others."
Bolas raised an eyebrow, or at least, the dragon version of raising an eyebrow. He knew that the "others" were those pathetic planeswalkers who foolishly believe that they can stop him. Annoy him, maybe, but not stop him.
"And what would I want with it?" he growled. Sarkhan gulped.
"I found a massive source of mana…"
Bolas stared at the human. Sarkhan continued.
"It was a castle. A school for mages in training…" Sarkhan paused. He could almost see the thousand year cogs working in his master's head. Bolas stretched his wings.
"And unlike Tolaria," Bolas snorted. Tolaria was destroyed when Dominaria was still ravaged by the time rifts. A new school was built, called Tolaria West. He continued. "Unlike Tolaria, this has no Teferi to protect it…"
Vol shivered. His last encounter with the time mage didn't go so well. Teferi may have lost his planeswalker spark when they fixed the time rift problem but he was still a formidable opponent. Bolas made his decision.
"Lead the way, slave. My undead army in Grixis didn't do the job so well. Perhaps an army of mages-in-training would be better. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!" he roared.
Sarkhan Vol relaxed. He would live for another day.
Voldemort's Lair of Darkness where Lucius is tortured once a minute.
The Dark Lord was annoyed. Here he was, about to chant a stupid incantation, all because of a theory stating that demons can be summoned into the mortal realm, blah blah blah. He looked at the corner of the room where Lucius was still hogtied. At least, he had something to take out his anger on if the ritual was a hoax and he ends up feeling like an idiot. So, eye twitching, he chanted.
The runes around the room glowed a dark violet, a malicious energy surrounded the room and Lucius peed his pants. All in all, it was sickening. Voldemort was surprised. It seemed that the ritual was working. Orbs of pure darkness formed in the center of the room, in front of Voldemort who had his hands raised in a shamanic manner. The orbs separated from each other and emitted purple beams of energy, connecting the orbs and creating a glowing circle. The portal to the demon world. Voldemort smirked in triumph.
Somewhere in the rotting plains of Grixis
Malfegor, demon dragon and former slave of Nicol Bolas, wandered around the desolate plane. Ever since Alara was restored, most of the undead of Grixis were slain by the other shards and the once proud necromancers were hunted down. Of course, anyone who dared to approach Malfegor was burned to a crisp. Oh, how he missed the scent of burning flesh. He heard a sizzling sound from behind him. Thinking that it was one of those foolish sparkmages, he growled and turned around to see an eerie purple light envelope him.
Voldemort's used-to-be-lair
Voldemort stared at the rubble around him. A few seconds ago, the portal he opened exploded in a black flame, destroying anything it touches. He still didn't know how Lucius was still in the same spot and still hogtied. But what did it matter, his experiment failed and he is standing in the center, feeling stupid. He was about to cast the Cruciatus curse on Lucius, who started flailing, when he heard a rumbling sound from beneath the debris. Then a massive demonic claw pushed itself from the stone, swirling with the same black flames that destroyed his lair. Voldemort grinned evilly.
The Plane of Zendikar
The massive Eldrazi felt the constant tug weaken. Emrakul, the Aeons Torn, floated high above the plane. It was chaos. Ever since the Eldrazi awoke, the whole plane was a place of death and destruction. He could see the Eldrazi swarm bring down entire fortresses without much difficulty. But it was still a prison. They were still trapped in the plane of Zendikar and one of their jailors still roamed the multiverse. Sorin Markov. But now, Emrakul could feel the Eye of Udin weakening, he knew that it was only a matter of days before he could resume his Aether form and travel to other planes. He felt a massive mana outburst from a far away plane while he batted away the Knights of Cliffhaven. It was his destination and he would be there in a few days. Ulamog and Kozilek are not strong enough to break the Eye's grasp, but he, Emrakul, greatest of the three first Eldrazi, the Aeons Torn, will break free from his tethers. And with Udin dead and the lithomancer missing in action, only Sorin Markov, one of his three greatest enemies, remains.
The Shrieking Shack
Harry relaxed on the couch, his feet on top of the battered wooden table. He watched the hooded person standing in the corner of the room. The man's blue cloak had several swirly runes on them. Said man was ranting.
"Listen, we both know you're powerful, but you should take our warning seriously. Nicol Bolas is way out of your league and…" Harry waved him off.
"You worry too much, Jace. We don't even know if he's planning something." Jace's face darkened.
"He's scheming, alright. Every second of his life, he is scheming. Some of his plots just take centuries to do but you should still be prepared. You have become to arrogant for your own good!" Harry snorted.
"Like you're not." He retorted. Jace shook his head.
"I was young and I was foolish. Learn from my mistakes Harry, it would do you good." Harry was about to answer when the walls of the shack crumble in white hot flames, throwing Harry and Jace back. Jace hit the wall and fell to the floor. Harry stood there, several burns on his arms and face. And there standing in the brand new hole in the wall, was Sarkhan Vol, his right hand morphed into a dragon's head, the mouth wide open and still smoking.
"Sorry to break up your little reunion, but we can't have a couple of planeswalkers messing up my master's plan." Sarkhan said, his long, matted hair failing to cover his malicious grin.