The Day of the TimeMage
Part 10
SGC Cruiser "Bra'tac", Earth orbit, July 18th 2042 06:40 Zulu
"Permission to come aboard, sir?" Harry asked as the transport rings dropped back into the floor.
"Granted." Replied the officer who had been waiting for him. "Welcome aboard, Colonel Potter. I'm Major Adam T Kirk, United States Air Force, commanding the Bra'tac. Your team are waiting in the armoury, sir."
They fell into step, Harry noted the obvious pride and delight Kirk took in his ship as they walked.
"Been with the SGC long?" He asked.
"Couple years." Kirk told him. "Just got command of this beauty a month back. From a small town in Iowa to outer space. It's been quite the ride!"
"I can imagine!" Harry allowed. "I grew up in a small town myself."
Krik chuckeld, then. "Here's the armoury, sir. I'll send for you when we get the signal."
Harry had been wondering who might be in his team, but was less than surprised when the first person he saw was the Deacon.
"Thought you'd be coming along on this one!" He said. "Especially when I saw the Doctor and Titus were in the field."
The Deacon nodded. "Your new skills should be enough to deal with the portal, Harry, but if one or more of the Other Ones are already through, I'll have to deal with them. You remember Sil?"
Harry nodded to the golden-eyed woman, who was busily equipping herself with every weapon she could carry.
"Oh, yes," Harry replied with a tinge of sarcasm, "I feel like I've known her most of my life!"
Sil stuck her tongue out at him.
"Play nice, kids." Admonished a familiar gravelly voice.
"Logan?" Harry turned and grasped his old allys' hand. "I was sort of hoping they'd send you along, mate!"
"Wouldn't miss this for the world!" Wolverine told him. "Suicide mission, million-to-one chance, what's not to like?"
"Wouldn't quite put it like that myself." Harry allowed. "But I do see where you're coming from!"
"C'mon, pal, you love this shit as much as any of us!" The speaker was a tall, well-built man wearing a long red coat. He had a broadsword slung at his back and a pair of heavy pistols at his hips. He looked to be in his early forties, with handsome features, long white hair and cold, pale eyes.
"Dante?" Harry was surprised. "Long time no see, mate! Thought you'd be heading up the Brotherhood, given what's going on!"
The Demon-hunter shook his head. "Nero and Trish can handle that. Ron figured you might need my kinda help in there, and if he says so, he's probably right. Besides, I wanted to work with you again!"
"Well, I'm glad to have you aboard!" Harry said. "But right now, I'd better sort myself out some kit!"
He helped himself to some tactical body-armour and low-light goggles as well as comms gear. With the odd pistol Ron and given him and his throwing knife in position, he suddenly felt ten years younger. I've missed this. He admitted to himself. Being in the thick of things. He caught Logans' eye, and the stocky Canadian gave him a wink, one veteran to another. Harry reponded with a wolfish grin.
Then Kirks' voice came across the intercom. "Landing party to the Transporter Room!"
Orlok Plateau, July 18th 2042 07:10 Zulu
Ron stormed forward, Titus and Mira beside him, and the UNIT troops forming up around them. Greyhound squads are light infantry, equipped and trained for fast movement and close combat. They are armed with an assortment of assault rifles, SMGs and tactical shotguns. The wizard Phoenix units are a magical equivalent, trained in short-jump apparation and wandless, fast-casting anti-personnel spells, Such units are trained to work in close harmony, so as soon as they were in optimal range, they loosed a devastating volley of firepower and magic. Fully half of the Vampires went down at once. The rest were shredded by Titus' four-barrelled storm-bolter and a grenade from the launcher mounted on the Greyhounds' light mech.
The three wizards accompanying the Vampires had been able to shield. Not that it helped, as one was sent down by Rons' killing curse. Mira fired her own weapon at the second. It emitted an odd, high-pitched sound and a beam of light that struck the wizard and dissolved him on the spot. Mira grinned at Ron. "24th Century phased plasma rifle -StarFleet issue. My favourite!"
The third wizard had managed to take a decent fighting stance, only to find his spells bouncing harmlessly off Titus' Ultramarine armour. Shortly after that, he was neatly sliced in two by the Space Marines' chainsword.
Ron was looking around to see where he could cause more trouble, when Kowalski came through on the comlink.
"Brigadier, some of the Fae are retreating!"
It was true. The Bolgan and the Jottun -the two most intelligent species – were breaking off and withdrawing. A glance was enough to show why. Three of the six portals were already closed and two of the others were flickering dangerously. They clearly did not want to be trapped in this foreign realm.
Some of the Ettins -whose possession of a second head did not seem to gift them with extra intelligence – were following their Jottun cousins, but others seemed more interested in fighting anything they could reach, including each other.
"Doctor!" Ron said. "Keep one portal open while they're retreating. Cornered men fight harder and we don't need the extra casualties."
"Somebody's been reading Sun Tzu!" Was the reply. "They don't need the extra casualties, either!"
"Well be sure and tell Sun Tzu he still has fans when you next see him." Ron responded. "All units, do not engage or interfere with retreating enemies."
"I'd have thought," Mira commented, "that what with having two brains, Ettins would be a bit brighter?"
Titus shook his head. "Two heads, one brain." He explained. "Only one hemisphere per head, right and left. No direct connection, either. That's why they tend to be clumsy and why only one head can talk, on the rare occasions that an Ettin learns to talk at all."
Ron shrugged. "We haven't much money, but we do see life!" He commented. "Let's get on, shall we?"
They got on. Without the organisation and intelligence -however limited – of the Jottun and Bolgan, the other beasts reverted to pure savagery. The Black Council wizards were still attempting to control the situation, but between UNIT snipers, SHIELD and WAND infiltration squads, and the systematic depredations of the Silver Sorceress, their numbers had been more than halved. This in turn led to a loss of discipline among the Red Court, resulting in a few uncoordinated attacks, which had been repulsed.
Still, it was no picnic, and Ron was relieved to see the final portal close on the heels of the last Jottun chieftain. The creature had clearly recognised Ron as a leader, raising his axe to him in salute just before he left.
"Kowalski," he asked, "how are we doing?"
"Holding at all points, Brigadier." Was the reply. "Casualties at 15%, but only 2% fatalities so far. All units operational. Slight damage to a couple of the light mechs and one War Machine suit out of action, pilot unhurt. Castle Dracula and the Pass are secure, reinforcements arriving regularly.
"International Rescue have now recovered all surviving villagers. Minimal casualties. Your wife wants a cup of tea.
"Enemy casualties estimated at 60%. The Bra'tac reports insertion of special team at 07:00."
"Understood and thank you." Ron said. He scanned the field. There were two Ogres left, and as he watched, Tetsujin delivered the killing blow to one, and the other was blasted apart by one of Raydeens' Screamer Hawk missiles.
The enemies' next most formidable force had been the massive, apelike Trolls, but the heavy mechs and War Machines had taken a terrible toll on the creatures. About half a dozen were left, clustered together but still bellowing defiance as the Thing, The Hulk, Thor and Centurion – now in heavy assault mode – closed on them.
There were still Ettins and Barguest on the field, but they had no coordination and were as liable to fight each other as the enemy.
Storm dropped down beside him. "What are they waiting for?" She asked, indicating the still-waiting grouips of Vampires and wizards. "They didn't commit – unless the wizards attached to a group were all killed – but they haven't retreated either."
"I'd have figured they'd have fallen back to the Schloss by now." Captain America, who had been going wherever UNIT troops needed extra support, had now come up. "They know they aren't gonna break our line. Or are they so dumb they won't move without orders?"
"No, it isn't that." Ron said slowly. "Those are Black Council wizards for one thing. They're convinced muggles are inferior, so they may think that whatever we did to the fae, we can't do to them. But then again, they know we have wizards in the field, so it won't be that.
"No, I think they're waiting for the ritualists in the Schloss to either open up more portals, or get the big one open and the Other Ones through.
"Not that it matters. While they're out here with their thumbs up their arses, they aren't inside between Harry and their bosses!"
"By that I take it you mean they're safer out here?" Ororo asked. "You do know that my husband is with Harry, yes?"
"Yes." Ron said. "Dante Sparda as well, and I imagine the Deacon isn't somebody to be crossed lightly, either!"
At that moment, day broke. Not in the usual way, the sun rising slowly over the mountains. The Evernight simply vanished to reveal the full sunlight of a bright summer morning. The chorus that greeted this dawn was not birdsong, however, but the screams of Red Court Vampires as their heliophobic flesh burst into spontaneous flame. At the same second, a glimmering shield suddenly wrapped itself around Schloss Orlok, causing instant panic among the Black Council wizards.
Ron reacted instantly. "All units, full attack!" He barked. "Let's finish this!"
Beneath Schloss Orlok, July 18th 2042 07:05 Zulu
Asgard transporters were, Harry had to admit, more comfortable than apparation and less tiring than orbing. There was still that second or two of disorientation, though. Once he had sorted himself out, he saw Bill Weasley approaching from the mouth of a cave. Off to one side, a group of wizards were gathered round one of their number, who looked a little the worse for wear.
"We're in!" Bill announced. "There's no more barriers any of us can sense. But that was a tough one, very old, very dark. Poor Harding's worn out, but then he's no youngster. He'll be OK."
Harry nodded and turned to his team. "We'd better get going." He said. "If we leave Ron alone up there too long, he'll say bugger it and take the Schloss anyway!"
They moved into the cave, which was high, dry and deep. Gradually, though, it narrowed into a tunnel. Beyond the daylight, it was dimly illuminated by patches of phosphorescent rock.
"Artificial." Dante noted. "Those patches are too regular in shape, size and spacing to be natural."
The lighting was far from bright, but none of the party were greatly concerned about darkness. Eventually, the tunnel broadened to a meeting point, where three more tunnels led out into smaller caves. One was completely empty, apart from what apeared to be a glass panel in one wall. The other had walls lined with racks and shelves, all empty. The third and largest seemed to be a shrine. The floor was thick with gritty dust and there was what appeared to be a simple altar at the far end.
"No way out!" Dante observed. "Dead end. Shit!"
"No rockfalls, no obvious blocked passages." Sil noted. "Hidden doors?"
"We can look." Logan said. He, Sil and Dante began to move around, tapping walls, stamping on floors, examining ceilings.
The Deacon didn't move, however. He was staring at the altar. "Why a shrine?" He was saying, half to himself. "This is Vampire place. Vampires aren't religious. Source Vampires didn't want their thralls worshipping them. For the local peasants? Too plain. And if it's for them, why wizard lock it so they can't get in?"
Harry, on a sudden instinct, crouched down and swept aside some of the inches-thick dust on the floor. He revealed a small section of a circular pattern that was somehow familiar.
Odd things were happening to his mind. He felt drawn back, somehow. Images and ideas began to flow past, as if projected on an inner screen, connecting in ways that revealed meanings. He realised that he knew this process, that he did it all the time, but somehow it was happening more quickly and clearly than ever before, and without the usual distractions or false trails.
We are assisting.
It was not a voice, nor was it telepathy. He had received messages from Psykers before, but this came from within, not outside.
Who are you? He asked silently.
We are you. You are us. We were once Borg. Now we are Harry. You have assimilated us.
The nanoprobes? You're intelligent?" Oddly, he felt no fear, as if he knew the answer.
We are not intelligent. You are intelligent. We assist. We augment. We are Harry.
It had taken less than a second. Harry straightened, took out his wand and flicked it. The dust on the floor began to swirl in toward the centre where it vanished like water down a drain. The others were all staring at him.
"This is a Ring Chamber." Harry said. "The Goa'ould must have occupied this place at one point, either that or the Source Vampires copied the tech!"
"Of course!" The Deacon crowed. "When is a shrine not a shrine? When it's a control panel!"
He gestured with his quantum screwdriver, and the block opened out into a control console equipped with a schematic of the Schloss.
"Hmm, it's configured in Vampire Runes rather than Goa'ould." The Deacon noted. "Hurray for the Translation Matrix!"
"Where does it come out?" Dante wanted to know.
"If Harry's on form, it'll be a ladies' restroom." Sil commented.
"Will I ever be allowed to live that down?" Harry asked. "I just hope this place doesn't have a Moaning Myrtle!"
"It can take us anywhere in the Schloss that there's another Ring Chamber. "The Deacon announced. "I'm trying to bring the internal sensors back online so we get an idea where people are." He bent to the controls, singing:
"Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take
I'll be watching you "
"What's with the singing?" Sil demanded. "You never used to sing, now you warble away like a deranged nightingale!"
"Regeneration is like a box of chocolates." He replied. "You never know what you're going to get!
"Aha! Right! Now the sensors aren't giving us any detail because they aren't meant to measure what they're detecting. But I can see the locations of Ring Chambers and I've got an idea of the layout of this place.
"Here's our target, the magma chamber."
"The Sammath Naur." Dante said softly.
"Where Sauron forged the One Ring?" Harry asked.
"Where Celebrimbor forged the One Ring." Dante told him. "It seems the history we've been given isn't quite so clear cut as a fantasy novel!"
"Never mind!" The Deacon snapped. "There are no Rings in the Chamber itself, but there is a Ring Pad in this one just down the corridor. Now there's quite a few people and other things in there, plus some sort of energy source. The Ring pad is in an alcove in a corner, so with a bit of luck we'll be in there before they notice us."
"We'll need to hit hard and fast." Harry said. "What about the rest of the Schloss. How much opposition have we got?"
"Not that much, and most of it in the main Keep and inner ward." The Deacon said. "Above ground. With any luck we can be in, job done and out before they even know we're there."
"OK, move out!" Harry said.
Nobody in the chamber noticed the team ring in. Four Red Court Vampires were guarding two entrances while five Black Council wizards were watching three ritual magicians who were chanting and making gestures in the centre of a large and complex circle.
There was no need for orders. Dantes' pistols and Sils' incendiary ammunition made short work of the Vampires. Harry and the Deacon dealt with one wizard apiece while Wolverine took down the other three before they could cast a spell.
For a moment, the ritual magicians seemed frozen in place, then they started to run. Harry, anxious to test his new Dark Energy skills, generated a Singularity -a bubble of Dark Energy that trapped the three men, leaving them floating, weightless and helpless.
"Nice!" Logan complimented.
The Deacon was examining the circle. "This was an Evernight Ritual." He noted. "One we've just stopped. That's going to make life very difficult for any Red Court Vampires outside or near a window!"
"Oh, dear. What a pity. How sad. Never mind." Harry replied in a flat tone, then stiffened. The Deacon gave him a piercing look. "You felt that, too?" He asked.
"And me!" Dante said. "What was it?"
"Somebody – somebody extremely powerful – has just cast a containment spell on the mountain." The Deacon said. "As of now, nobody gets in or out by physical or magical means!"
"So we're trapped?" Sil asked.
"No." The Deacon told her. "A TARDIS, not mine, but the Doctors' or Titus', could breeze in here whenever the pilot felt so inclined. Also, it won't make a blind bit of difference to the Asgard transporter on the Bra'tac."
"So our exfil is still a go?" Logan asked.
"For now, at any rate." Harry said. "Let's…."
At that moment, a wizard in Black Council robes came rushing in. "Somebody's cast a….Oh! Potter?"
"Jeremiah Fudge." Harry said with a very unpleasant smile, and raised his wand. What happened next is impossible to describe.
"Ouch!" Observed the Deacon, feelingly.
"Now his head really is up his arse." Sil noted.
"Personally, I'd have cut it off before I shoved it up there." Dante commented. "But each to his own."
Wolverine just laughed. Nastily.
"Well, if I don't achieve anything else today, that's one memory I'll treasure!" Harry declared. "Let's get going!"
The magma chamber was not as big as Harry had expected, perhaps twice as big as a football field. At the far end was the glowing fissure at the bottom of which moiled, not lava, but almost pure molten Red Lyrium. On a raised platform near the edge of this was a glowing red portal, perhaps ten feet in diameter. In front of the portal stood three figures. Justin DuMorne, tall and saturnine in his black robes, Baron Mordo, stoic and grim in black and green and a small, slight, bald man in brown, half his face covered in scar tissue. Between them and the party waited a phalanx of Red Court Vampires and wizard duellsts.
"Harry Potter." DuMorne said in his suave tones. "The Man Who Lived, and lived, and lives again! You are as hard to kill as your Mutant lickspittle there."
"He's my friend." Harry said flatly. "A concept beyond your limited comprehension, DuMorne."
"A concept I am evolved beyond, I think." DuMorne said. "You remain a child in many respects. Now, you will never have the chance to grow up."
The scarred man had been staring at Dante. Now he spoke in a surprisingly deep, hollow voice. "Do you not remember me, Son of Sparda?"
"Oh, yeah, I remember you, Arkham." Dante said. "You forget your clown suit?" Arkhams' eyes narrowed nastily as the demon-hunter went on. "Last time I saw your little girl, she was doing real good!"
"Enough!" Arkham growled. "Kill them!"
The guard charged forward. Harry launched a biotic shockwave that broke their momentum. The Deacon conjured a fireball that decimated the Vampires, allowing Dante and Wolverine to wreak havoc with sword and claw among the survivors. Sil mowed down wizards with short, accurate bursts of fire. Those who managed to shield proved no match for Harry and the Deacon.
For Harry, everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion except Dante and Logan. He realised that he was seeing more, sensing more and making sense of it faster. There were other changes as well. At one point, he had disarmed an opponent. The wizard, a giant of a man as big as Ron, gave a bellow and hurled himself at Harry, grabbing for his throat. It looked as if he was moving underwater. Harry moved forward to meet the charge and slammed his fist into the man, at the base of the sternum. It was a blow he had used often before, and always effectively. But this time, instead of doubling over, the man flew backwards several feet and crashed to the floor, where he lay coughing up blood.
"Shit!" Harry observed.
"Knew you'd had some upgrades!" Logan said. "You're hitting harder than Ron, now!"
That was the end of the fight. The team gathered opposite the dais.
"If anybody kills Arkham," Dante said, "destroy the body. Or at least the head. Try not to leave anything some acolyte can use to make Essential Salts."
"You will kill no-one!" Mordo spoke for the first time. He raised a hand and green lightning flared out of it toward them, only to stop short on a shimmering shield. Mordo looked up.
"Stephen!" He said. "So glad you could join us! I take it you're the one who cast the containment spell?"
"Certainly." Dr Strange, his cloak billowing around him, settled to the floor beside the team. "I don't think we need allow any more portal-opening on the plateau."
DuMorne laughed. "You are too late, Sorceror Supreme!" He crowed, and pointed to the Portal as something emerged. A conglomeration of iridescent globes that moved almost hypnotically around each other, the thing was, at first glance, beautiful. But the enhanced or eldritch senses of the team saw past that disguise to the frothing, formless black madness the globes hid.
"Yog-Sothoth." The Deacon breathed. "Damn it all!" He turned to the others, speaking fast. "Yog-Sothoth is the Key and the Gate. If he gets through, they all get through, even if we close the Portal behind him!"
"No!" DuMorne yelled, causing the Deacon to turn back to the Portal. He gave a whoop of triumph.
"He's stuck!" He yelled. "He came too soon! The Portal isn't powerful enough yet! Come on!"
"I can hold him, Deacon, you must push him back!" Strange said.
"You will hold nothing, Strange!" Mordo bellowed, stepping forward and raising his hands.
"You cannot defeat me, Mordo." Strange reminded him.
"I know." Mordo said. "But I can and will delay you for long enough! Do what you must, DuMorne!"
"I'll deal with the rabble, Justin." Arkham said. "Dante! I brought some playmates along just for you and your friends!"
He picked up a small sack that had lain unnoticed at his feet and with a sweeping gesture flung its contents in a semi-circle between the team and the dais. Harry saw them clatter to the ground, ivory coloured objects perhaps two inches long, curved and sharp.
"Ah, shit!" Dante said. "Not the Hydras' Teeth gag!"
"So who cares about walking skeletons?" Logan asked.
"This ain't a movie, pal!" Dante admonished him.
"Paidiá tis Ýdras, ánodos!" Arkham called. "Sto ónoma tis Ekátis!"
Where each fang had lain, a warrior now stood. Not a skeleton, nor entirely human. They were all identical to Harrys' eyes. Eight feet tall and gaunt, pale skin stretched tight over ropy muscle and bone, hairless heads, noseless faces, dark, deepset eyes and lipless mouths filled with razor-sharp fangs. They wore only short leather kilts, but each carried a heavy, round iron shield and a spiked morningstar. There were maybe fifty of them, and without a word or an order given, they began to advance with long strides, whirling the chain maces.
Dante and Sil fired simultaneously. The bullets staggered the warriors they hit, but did not stop them. They produced no blood, just puffs of greyish dust.
"Oh, wonderful!" Sil said dourly, then she dropped all her weapons and vanished in a flash of light, to be replaced by something else. A creature the size of a Shetland pony, with ten, short thick legs ending in heavily-clawed feet. The head was froglike, in that it had bulging eyes and was mostly mouth. But the mouth was filled with three rows of razor-sharp tusks. The creature turned to look at Harry. It's eyes were golden and, disconcertingly, it winked at him.
Arkham cackled madly, then turned and threw a final tooth into the fissure. There was a whoosh and a roar, and a giant figure climbed out of the pit. A twelve-foot high metal man whose blue-hot skin was shot through with pulsing veins of ruby red.
"A Talos." Dante gritted. "Supercharged with Red Lyrium. We are so screwed!"
DuMorne was now facing the Portal, red power poured out of his outstretched hands into the circle.
"He's drawing directly on the Lyrium." The Deacon said. "But he can't overdo it or he'll kill himself. We still have time!"
"We can apparate past this lot!" Harry indicated the advancing enemy, who had already covered half the distance, but seemed in no hurry.
"Can't apparate in here." The Deacon said grimly. "Try, and you'll get sucked straight into the Portal! Believe me, you do not want to suddenly arrive in Kadath!"
Overhead, Strange and Mordo were battling furiously. "Stand aside Mordo!" Strange pleaded. "You understand as well as I do what's at stake here!"
"I do." Mordo admitted. "The trouble is, Stephen, that I no longer care!"
Then there was a blaze of white light, and a new voice spoke. "Keep Mordo occupied, Stephen. I will hold Yog-Sothoth!"
Over Mordos' bellow of rage, a new figure swooped toward the Portal. A powerfully-built man in blue and gold, his face hidden by a golden, masklike helm. Golden light poured from his hands, forming a cage around Yog-Sothoth as he tried to force himself through the Portal. "You cannot pass, Old One!" Said the newcomer. "Even you cannot defy Fate!"
Harry realised that others had joined the team. Beside him was a very large man, some six and half feet tall and built on heroic lines. He wore a blue and red costume with a long red cape. The face he turned on Harry was ruggedly handsome. His hair was jet-black, though greying at the temples. His eyes were a clear blue, surprisingly sad and gentle.
Close to him stood a statuesque woman, only a few inches shorter. Her face was stunningly beautiful, both sensual and passionate, framed in a mass of raven hair. She wore light armour and carried a sword and shield. On the other side of Harry was an athletic-looking fellow in a black, white and green costume. He wore a green mask across his eyes and gave Harry an enthusiastic grin. Finally, next to Wolverine, was a man the same height and build as Harry himself, wearing a black and grey costume, his face half-hidden by a cowl made to look like a bats' head, and a long black cape.
The big man in blue spoke in a soft, deep voice. "What do you need us to do?"
"The Deacon and I need to get to that Portal, fast!" Harry said. "Anything you can do to help would be good!"
The man nodded, then turned and leaped into the air. The Talos, which had pulled ahead of the death-head warriors, was almost on them when he flew into it at terrific speed, picking it up and carrying it back to the edge of the fissure, where he slammed it down. The Talos came up fast and struck a double-fisted blow that threw its attacker hard against the cave wall. He came back to strike at it again.
"Has the big guy bitten off more than he can chew this time?" The man in green wondered.
The woman shook her head. "I doubt it, Kal's too stubborn." She said in a rich contralto. "But he's always been a little...vulnerable to magic."
"He's an idiot, always has been." Growled the man in the bat costume. "We're on the clock here!"
"Gotcha, Bats!" Replied the man in green. Then he also jumped into the air. The death-head warriors, who had paused in their advance when the Talos was attacked, had begun to move again. Now the green-masked Metahuman flew toward them and stretched out his right fist. From the ring he wore came a blaze of green light that shaped itself into a giant snow-plough which rammed into and through the ranks, scattering warriors in all directions. The woman and Dante charged into the right flank while Wolverine and the man in the bat costume took the left.
Harry and the Deacon followed the path made by the 'snowplough'. It wasn't a sinecure, exactly. The death-heads didn't go down easily, and got up quickly, and angry. But neither man was in any mood to be crossed, and the beast that was Sil ran interference for them with fang, claw and remarkable speed!
"Who are these people?" Harry asked, firing off a killing curse without breaking stride.
"Bunch of Metahumans and crime-fighters from a Universe close to this one." The Deacon replied, transfiguring his opponent into something as improbable as it was harmless. "The wizard is called Fate, or Dr Fate if you prefer. Big chap in blue and red calls himself Superman. The woman's an Amazon Princess who goes under the soubriquet of Wonder Woman. Bloke with the ring is the local member of the Green Lantern Corps. Grumpy git in the bat costume is known, would you believe, as the Batman."
"Originality in short supply where they come from?" Harry blasted a death-head warrior into a very lage number of very small pieces. "That body Sils' wearing, Barsoomian calot, right?"
"Dead on!" The Deacon dropped a warrior down a hole and closed it after him. "How'd you know that?"
"Knew somebody who'd been to Barsoom, once." Harry said. "Here we are! Thanks, Mr Lantern!"
"Glad to be of service!" The Green Lantern replied. "I'll keep these guys off your backs while you do your thing!"
Harry went for Arkham. Mindful of Dante's advice, he went for a stun hex, only to see it blocked. Arkham was standing in a small circle designed to ward off magic. But such circles have limited effectiveness against a powerful wizard, and the scarred man obviously knew the jig was up.
He began to weave complex gestures in the air, and his voice thundered: "PER ADONAI ELOHIM, ADONAI JEHOVAH..." An otherworldy wind sprang up, only to die almost at once as Arkhams' incantation ended in a yelp of pain.
Harry had thrown his knife in a blur, aiming for the throat, but Arkahms' gesturing had blocked the cast. The knife now transfixed his right hand and left arm, pinning the one to the other.
"Just because I'm a wizard," Harry told him, "doesn't stop me from using other weapons."
With an agonised grunt, Arkham pulled the knife clear of his arm. "Fool!" He gasped. "All I have to do is die, and I will be born anew!"
He grasped the knife, which still impaled his right hand, with the left and made to drive it into his own chest. But Harry was faster, drawing the particle magnum pistol and firing at full power. Arkham's form glowed brightly for a second, then vanished, leaving not even ashes.
"Damn!" Harry growled. "That was my best knife!"
The Deacon had tossed DuMorne aside with a flick of his screwdriver. The Dark wizard had been concentrating so intensely on powering the Portal, he had paid no attention to the battle. The Deacon looked out over the chamber. The Talos now lay in pieces on the ground. Superman was tossing the parts over the edge into the fissure.
Despite the death of their summoner, the Death-head warriors showed no sign of vanishing or surrendering. But they were badly outclassed. Dante and Wonder Woman stood back to back amid a heap of corpses and looked ready to carry on all day. Wolverine and the Batman were clearly two of kind, creating havoc with some very dirty tactics. Closer to the dais, Green Lantern was creating constructs that ranged from giant bowling balls to circular saw-blades to spread death and destruction all around him. Sil was ranging around the whole area, leaving a trail of twitching body-parts behind her.
"Hurry, Deacon!" Fate shouted. "Even I cannot hold back Yog-Sothoth forever!"
The Deacon stepped up to the Portal, putting his Probability Probe away. This was not a batle that would be won with spells or equations. He reached his hand between the meshes of Fates' magical cage and into the orbit of the whirling globes.
A black void opened in his mind. THEE! Yog-Sothoth thundered soundlessly. I KNOW THEE. DOST THOU KNOW THYSELF?
Yog-Sothoth is coterminous with all of Time and Space, the whole Multiverse. He holds all knowledge of it. Should he so choose, he can share all or part of this knowledge with any intelligent being. Sometimes he will give knowledge as a gift, at other times he requires payment, some even earn the right to such knowledge by themselves. But he can also use it as a way to destroy.
The Deacons' mind was suddenly flooded with knowledge. Knowledge or every single aspect or iteration of himself throughout an infinity of Universes, an eternity of times. It would have driven most beings insane, but the Deacon was a TimeMage. Had Yog-Sothoth showed him everything, absolutely everything, it might have been very different. As it was, the Deacon was being shown nothing he did not already know, could not already recall at will and forget at will. By the time the Other One realised his mistake, the Deacon had already retaliated.
There is one thing Yog-Sothoth does not know, or see. One thing he is not part of. The non-space between spaces, the non-time between histories: the Vortex . This is the structured chaos that binds the Multiverse together while keeping the Universes apart. It is the Veil which separates the Realms in each Universe and the Planes within the Realms, while at the same time binding them close to each other. Every TimeLord and TimeMage becomes what they are by looking into the Untempered Schism on Gallifrey, by seeing and understanding the Vortex and its purpose.
This was the knowlwedge that the Deacon shared with Yog-Sothoth. It could not send the Other One mad, for he was already mad. What it did, for a few vital moments, was to make him sane again. For that short time, he was no longer Yog-Sothoth, the Lurker at the Threshold, but was once again 'Umr-at-Tawil, the Guardian of the Gate. Freed from the madness inflicted by his master Azathoth, he saw what he was about to do, and understood the consequences. He saw Kadath crumble before the wrath of the Four Horsemen, and the First Ones standing shoulder to shoulder against him and his kin. He heard the warning bellow of archaic Nodens, prepared to surge out of the Great Abyss to meet him.
Without another word or thought, Yog-Sothoth withdrew through the Portal, and held it against the entrance of his brother Nyarlathotep.
The Deacon dropped to one knee -even a TimeMage has limits – and croaked "Now, Harry! Before he forgets again."
Harry planted himself in front of the Portal. This close, he could feel its terrible attraction. The silent urge to fling himself through, to walk the halls of unknown Kadath and share in the power of the Other Ones. To become, perhaps, as they were; without care or scruple, following only their obscure urges.
But Harry had been strong-willed all his life. Even as a boy, he had resisted the Imperius Curse and the control of Voldemort. All his life since – the struggles, the triumphs and the losses - had only tempered him. And he had no use for power as an end in itself, only for the good it could do.
He raised the Elder Wand. Now he was fully attuned to it. With the nanoprobes and the training Samara had given him, he was able to summon and direct a flow of Dark Energy, pure and uncorrupt, directly from the Vortex that was its source, and which it sustained in an unending cycle. The beam from his wand struck into the centre of the portal and the luminous blue-black began to replace the sullen red. Without anyone attempting to sustain the Portal from the other side, it spread quickly. By the time resistance did begin, when the Other Ones began to push again, the process was all but irreversible. Harry steeled his will and carried on until the last trace of red was gone, and the Portal collapsed in on itself without a sound.
Harry staggered, he was suddenly mortally tired. He felt a strong, steadying grip on his shoulders. "I got ya, pal!" Logan said.
Leaning on his old friend, Harry turned to look at the chamber. The floor was choked with the grisly remnants of the Hydras' Children. Dr Fate and the other extra-dimensionals had vanished. Neither was there any sign of Strange or Mordo. Nearby, Sil – in her own form – was crouching beside the Deacon, who seemed as weary as Harry. Dante – not a hair out of place, apparently – was standing over the inert form of DuMorne.
"We done?" Asked the Demon-hunter.
"Yeah." Harry told him. "Let's get the flock out of here, and the sheep as well!"
"Logan to Bra'tac." Wolverine said over the comlink. "The back door is closed. Repeat, the back door is closed! Team ready for dust-off!"
Sil helped the Deacon to his feet. Dante scooped up DuMorne in a firemans' lift, and a second later, nothing living remained in the chamber.
Castle Dracula, July 18th 2042 10:42 Zulu
Ron, Hermione, Draco, Count Dracula and Mina Harker were on the top of the West Tower, from where they had the clearest view of Schloss Orlok.
Having cleared out the last of the Vampires, Wizards and wild fae, Ron had immediately ordered his forces back off the plateau, there being no point in remaining in an exposed position. The Avengers had been ferried back to New York by Captain Titus, and the Doctor had simply nodded to Ron, collected Nardol and left. Despite an offer to remain, Ron had also ordered the two PRDC super-mechs to return to base. Tetsujin had remained, and now stood in the outer ward of the Castle, waiting.
Ron himself had relocated the command post to Castle Dracula, being joined there by Hermione, who reported that the village was now safe, and that IR had provided the villagers with shelters and supplies.
"We are fortunate that it is summer." Dracula had noted. "Also the fields and herds are untouched. Rebuilding the village will be costly, but well within my means. You have my gratitude, Madame Hermione."
After some time, the shield around the Schloss had disappeared. Then Dr Strange had arrived, with an unconscious Mordo and a small band of Black Council wizards, who had sullenly surrendered to the White Council Wardens.
"Things are coming to a head inside." Strange advised. "One way or the other, it will be over soon. But I have matters to attend to." He had disappeared, taking Mordo with him.
Nevertheless, more than an hour elapsed before Major Kirk signalled Ron.
"Brigadier? The infiltration party has been retrieved. No casualties, one prisoner and they report mission accomplished."
"Understood and thank you." Ron replied. "You are weapons free at this time. Bring the rain, Major Kirk!"
He put his arm around his wife. She rested her head on his shoulder and they watched as Schloss Orlok and the spike of rock that had once been Mount Doom first glowed, then melted, sealing the last source of Red Lyrium on Earth under metres of diamond-hard fused rock.
Epilogue One
There was a lot of work to be done, of course. The muggle media faithfully reported that an attempted alien invasion had been thwarted by UNIT and SHIELD. Some people believed it, others didn't. Conspiracy theorists went to town and were ignored except by other conspiracy theorists. The New Salem Website was suddenly taken down and the organisations' offices closed without explanation. Then a soap star and her pop star husband had a messy divorce, and mere trivia such as alien invasions were forgotten.
The wizard media reported more or less what had happened, of course. The Daily Prophet reassured its readers that wizard secrecy remained intact. The Quibbler regretted the lost opportunity to forge a new relationship with the non-magical world. The Daily Torch abruptly ceased publication and its assets were seized. However, the matter was soon forgotten in the demise of Minerva MacGonagall and the publishing soon afterwards of her memoirs. A Witches' Story became a runaway bestseller, described by the Prophets' critic as a feast made up of "a hearty helping of history as it happened, with a piquant garnish of anecdote, a rich sauce of adventure, and a surprisingly spicy side-order of sex!"
Justin DuMorne stood trial before the White Councli, and was found guilty of sedition, murder and attempted genocide. He was imprisoned for life in Triskelion 2, but died less than a year later as a result of his reckless self exposure to Red Lyrium. It was a fate shared by most of the surviving Black Council wizards and ritual magicians.
Harry flatly refused to take up the post of Minister, so Ernie MacMillan continued in that role, to everyones' satisfaction. Ron and Hermione returned to Weasley Enterprises, "making life a little better every day for the ordinary witch and wizard" as the commercial said. Draco retired from WAND to take up a seat on the Wizengamot.
Harry finally became Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, and was made Head of Gryffindor House. A few years later, when Albus Potter left to 'pursue further studies', Harry became Headmaster. He continued to see Gabrielle Delacourt on and off, but never married again.
Life went on.
Epilogue 2
Hogwarts Castle February 18th 2058
The apparation was noisy and clumsy, and the two men responsible promptly collapsed against opposite sides of the corridor.
"We used," Draco Malfoy observed, "to be better at that! Are you sure it was the Doctor you saw?"
Harry nodded. "That's how I knew it was time to strike. He'll do the rest. I couldn't let him see me, it was an early regeneration, if not the original, and he didn't meet me until much later in his timeline."
Draco nodded, then coughed up blood.
"We should get you to a Healer." Harry said.
"No." Draco answered. "No point, Harry. The neutron grenade that killed my Astoria dosed me with enough radiation to kill me slowly, anyway. I had perhaps a month left to fall apart in. This is quicker, cleaner and altogether more acceptable!" His eyes suddenly widened. "Is that supposed to be happening?"
Harry looked down at his left hand, which was resting on his leg. It was glowing with a bright, golden light that faded as he watched. "I don't know." He said.
Draco coughed some more, then said."Your burns are gone, and you've stopped bleeding, but you're still grey in the face."
"The nanoprobes." Harry lied. "They're still trying. But I've absorbed a lot of radiation too. I'm getting weaker by the minute. We've neither of us got long, mate. Who knew the Daleks would come back?"
"I don't think they did." Draco said. "I think this is the first time they've been here. This lot are primitive compared to..." He coughed again, for longer this time, and the sound had an unpleasant gurgle to it. When it was over, he leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes, and said quietly. "Harry, I just want to thank you for letting me clean some of the dirt off the name of Malfoy. But what led you to give me the chance?"
"You didn't want to kill Dumbledore." Harry told him. "Ron figured you didn't have it in you, but it struck me that even then you'd begun to realise you were on the wrong side. It seems I was right."
"Irritatingly so." Drao replied with a faint smile. "Mind, if we'd known back then what Dumbledore actually was..."
"I'd have helped you scrag him!" Harry finished, and they both laughed.
They were quiet for a while, then Draco said calmly. "I'm done, I think. Thanks for the ride, Harry."
A few seconds later, he died.
I won't be long following him. Harry thought. Then he felt something, a vibration against his chest. He tried to ignore it, but it was insistent. He fgroped inside his clothes and came out with the moleskin pouch Hagrid had given him so long ago, and which he had worn ever since. Clumsily, he opened it and tipped something out into his hand. A key, an old-fashioned key. The air was filled with a whirring, groaning sound, and a cabinet appeared in front of him.
A Vanishing Cabinet out of the Room of Requirement. Not the one Draco had repaired, but the other one. The one nobody had ever been able to open. Harry was weak, terribly weak, now. But his will was still unbroken. He hauled himself up and staggered to the cabinet, fumbled the key into the lock, and almost fell into the great, glittering interior. He realised his hands were both glowing now.
"For Merlins' sake!" He muttered. "How much regeneration energy can one bloody feather have?"
How many times can a Phoenix regenerate? The nanoprobes responded.
Then everything vanished in golden light.
When Harry could see again, he was still looking at his hands, resting on the TARDIS console. Large, broad, strong hands with thick, blunt fingers. His boots pinched, and his combats were now too long in the arms and legs, but a tightness across the chest and shoulders hinted that what he had lost in height, he had gained in width. He looked up into the reflective surface of a monitor screen. A craggy, square-jawed face with a firm mouth and ice-blue eyes, short-cropped blond hair and the familiar scar on his forehead.
"All right," He said to himself in a deep, rather gravelly voice. "What happens now?"