You know, I'm still surprised that the story's been such a hit with you guys. I remember when I was writing Chapter 13, I had 200 reviews; now it's over 350.. It's just mind boggling. Update: Broke 100,000 views! Like... Wow. Not even my YouTube videos have come this close. Thanks guys. :)
showsomerespect: I don't think I'll kill myself, thanks. How about you try to live up to your name and show some respect?
Quick note; this chapter will be quite different from the others, referencing some games that I've played in the past.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
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Lightning Dragon's Roar
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
By Zero Rewind
© 2014
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Chapter 18: Soul Struggle
I was having a perfectly good dream, minding my own business.
Then, everything changed.
I was back in the long, dark hallway. I felt annoyed at having to see this stupid useless place yet again. I never understood why I kept dreaming of it. It's not like there was anything special about it. Why couldn't I have a nice, wet dream, instead? Me, Daphne, some whip cream... Yum.
I silently slithered on my long belly, across the cold stone floor. Wait, that's a little different than usual. Normally, I would be walking along the hallway, and reach the door at the end. I would try to open it, but the dream would end there. This was different. I wondered what would happen.
Someone's there, this time. At the door I'd been seeing in my dreams. He was under some form of invisibility, but I could smell him. I could smell his breath, his sweat. He reeked of filthy human.
Reeked of human... But wasn't I human?
There was movement, and a silvery cloak slid off the figure. A flash of red hair, and a tightly gripped wand greeted me.
He noticed my presence! I must attack!
No, I know him. Stop! Stop it!
Strike! STRIKE! STRIKE! My body moved of its own accord.
The man dropped to the ground, poisoned and wounded. Strange, my attacks felt like a snake's...
But I'm not a snake... I'm a human being!
My scar was hurting as I began to realize that this probably wasn't a dream.
My eyes snapped open, to see Ron's worried face staring at me.
"Harry! Harry!" The boy called out, shaking me a little roughly.
"Ron—" I breathed out raggedly. "Your dad. Danger. Arthur. Tell Dumbledore. Tell—" I blacked out.
Yet I could still hear others around me.
"Quick, Neville!" Ron bellowed out. "Get Dumbledore!"
I heard hurried footsteps. I tried to move. Couldn't.
I tried to speak. Couldn't.
I tried to open my eyes. Couldn't.
What the hell was going on?
§Harry?§ I heard Balthazar call out to me. I couldn't answer. The viper was wrapped around my arm, giving me a soothing feeling. Strange, hadn't realized I was in such pain until I'd received this soothing relief.
§I know you can hear me, Harry.§ Balthazar began. §Whatever this is, fight it.§
It. What is... It?
I felt the darkness around me wash away into a bright, white light. Balthazar's hissing faded into the background, dissolving into complete and utter silence.
When the light dimmed, I found myself standing in a peculiar place. It was very peculiar because there was nothing there.
Absolutely nothing. I stared into the endless white expanse in bewilderment. What the hell was going on? A wave of dizziness began to hit me.
~"What's wrong with him?"
"I do not know. I have never seen anything like this..."~
I shook my head. Where did those voices come from, and why did they sound so familiar?
Bah, it didn't matter. I regained my bearings and gazed at my surroundings once more.
The same white expanse.
Wait. It was a little different than before. What was that in the distance? Something was definitely coming my way.
Whatever it was, it was small; really small. As it got closer, I began to notice its features.
Boy were they disturbing.
Its stature was similar to that of a child. Of course, that's where the similarities ended. The abomination looked like it used to be a child at some point in its life, but was now a flayed, emaciated, bloody, gory mess of a humanoid creature. Blood trailed endlessly behind its walking corpse as it neared me further and further.
My heart rate increased, and irrational fear began building in my chest.
I'll be honest, the gory child's slow walk was beyond creepy, but I was more than four times its size. I felt a little bit of fear, and revulsion as my eyes roved over its form. I'd played a few horror games that featured evil spirits of dead children. This seemed right up their alley. I could only hope it wouldn't ask to play with me, before trying to eat me or something.
The gored child stopped a few meters in front of me, appraising me with its gaze. Its eyes were blood red, and menacing.
It kept staring at me for a long while.
I stared right back, irritation replacing my fear. Was it ever going to speak?
"So are we going to stand here, or what?" I finally said, my voice as sharp as a knife.
"Harry Potter." It said, yet its mouth was not moving. The sound came from everywhere. Its eyes took on a sinister quality.
"Who—" I was at a loss for words.
The demon child smiled, showing razor sharp teeth. I backed away from it, hands raising up in defense. It did not move further.
"Surely you know who I am, Harry Potter." I heard the voice echo. "After all, I've been with you, your entire life."
"With me?" I asked incredulously. "I've never seen you in my life before, friend."
"I am no friend of yours, Harry Potter." The thing got on all fours, snarling. It stayed that way for a few seconds, before composing itself and standing back up, its eyes unnaturally wide, as if it were watching my every move. If I made a single mistake, I had no doubt it would leap at me and tear me to shreds with its teeth.
On the 'Scary' level, this rated a solid 'I think I have to go walk the car— I mean, dog. I need to walk the dog. Bye.'
"Then what the fuck are you?" I blurted out. The being smiled, showing those terrible teeth again.
"Why, I'm part of you."
"Part of—" I repeated dumbly, before fixing it with a glare. "Enough! No more vague answers, or I'll—"
"You'll what? Kill me where I stand?" The evil entity challenged with a smirk. "Go ahead and try."
Well, let it be known that I tried to solve this with words.
"You asked for it." I said gravely, before concentrating.
I called my lightning forth, and directed my hand at the smirking child, hoping to send a bolt that would fry it out of existence, once and for all.
Nothing happened.
No lightning came out. I tried again. Nothing. What was going on? My lightning wasn't responding to my call!
"What the hell?" I mouthed out, staring at my hand as if it betrayed me somehow. The child smiled maliciously as it tilted its head in amusement.
"Can't use your lightning, can you?" It taunted with that disturbing smile. My head swiveled around to the bloody child, so quick that my neck made a loud crack.
"How do you know about—"
"Your Lightning 'Dragonslayer' magic?" The child sneered disdainfully.
"I'm a part of you, remember?" The child repeated, as if angered about having to repeat itself. "I have been with you since you were very young, Harry Potter."
Since I was very young... Red eyes. The last thing I remembered before ending up here was a dream in which I was a snake, attacking Mr. Weasley.
Red eyes. Snake.
But that didn't happen, did it? That was a just a dream. A flash of a short conversation with a worried looking Ron appeared to the forefront of my mind. I remembered telling him to save Mr. Weasley because he was... being attacked by... something? I remembered my scar was hurting. A lot.
Wait... My scar was hurting quite a bit right now, come to think of it.
Red eyes. Snake. Scar pain.
It came to me.
"Voldemort!" I pointed an accusing finger at the child.
"Very good." Voldemort smiled viciously. "I was wondering when your feeble mind would make the connection."
"But how?" I asked, sounding confused. "I don't understand. Why are you a little kid?"
"You seem to be having a hard time grasping the situation you are currently experiencing." The child seemed amused. "Allow me to clarify."
"You're just going to explain it to me?" I asked incredulously.
"Why, yes." Voldemort said easily. "We are currently within the depths of your mind. It is another plane of existence. Most wizards learn to protect this plane by employing Occlumency, but I digress. As the rules clearly state, if I am to take over your soul, I must greet you, and do battle with you within the very depths of your mind. Only then, can I begin to eradicate you."
He smiled evilly, giving me shivers.
What rules? I had no idea what the hell he was on about, but his words sounded somewhat familiar.
He would greet me, and then fight me for control over my body.
Voldemort's smile widened as I began to realize the reference. It was the same as when Naruto was about to fight the Ninetails in his mind scape! But how would that apply to me? How could it? Also, how did Voldemort know about the manga 'Naruto', to begin with?
As if reading my mind, Voldemort began to speak.
"I have already stated that I've been a part of you for a very long time, Harry Potter." Voldemort rasped out.
"It applies to you because your 'mind scape', as you seem to be putting it," Voldemort sneered. "Is directly related to your personal experiences. As such, we shall enter a battle, following the rules of many combat systems you've encountered in your life."
"Combat systems?" I repeated, feeling bewildered, confused, and in pain.
"Indeed." Voldemort confirmed with malicious glee.
"Do you accept, Harry Potter?"
I took a long moment to examine the freaky looking entity. Was it telling the truth, or was it lying to me? I didn't know. Could it lie in my own mind? Was I really in my own mind, as it was saying?
Wait... Yes, this was my own mind. I could feel it. I didn't know how to explain it, but I could clearly tell that this was my own mind.
Okay, so Voldemort wasn't lying to me. I still didn't trust him, though it's not like I had a choice in the matter.
"Fine. I accept." I finally said, sealing the deal. I looked around. "So, when do we begin—"
But the scene was already shifting.
"Right now." The voice, instead of being all encompassing, now came from the flayed child itself. Voldemort began to growl at me threateningly, his skin turning green, while his eyes assumed the shape of a snake's eyes. Lines began appearing on the boy's head, splitting it into five others, and his neck was greatly elongated.
Our surroundings morphed, grabbing my attention. They turned from the vast white expanse, into a quiet looking village. I looked beyond its borders, seeing only greenery, followed by the vast expanse of the sea. The buildings seemed to possess an architectural quality reminiscent of the Japanese people: they were wooden structures, elevated slightly off of the ground, with thatched roofs. The walls consisted almost entirely of sliding doors, allowing for great room customization.
The people, looking to be of Japanese descent, were milling around the town, minding their own business.
In fact, none of them were even paying attention to me, strangely enough. It was like I was a ghost.
I quickly turned to where I'd last seen Voldemort— or was it Kidmort? Maybe Voldekid?— cursing at myself for my carelessness. But he was nowhere to be found.
What the hell was he turning into? His skin turned green, and his head was splitting into many others. A hydra, perhaps? Sounded like a hydra.
Something about this whole situation seemed so familiar to me. Too familiar.
"Many combat systems you've encountered in your life." Voldemort's words rang in my head.
It made sense. I remembered this place. I made my way to the city's entrance; the city's occupants seemed to be completely oblivious to my presence. I read the sign, and then I re-read it for good measure.
It said: "Island Nation of Zipangu."
Damn it.
"No fucking way." I breathed, and entered the town once more, searching for the main building. It was just as I remembered it was, from an old game I played on a gameboy emulator last summer. I entered the building, walking past the guards, and made my way to the throne room, except that it was completely bare— as expected.
A Japanese woman in an elaborate yukata, wearing an excessive amount of make up sat on the floor in a seiza position, regarding me with great disdain.
"What do you want?" She said, clearly unhappy with my presence. "I despise outlanders such as you. You better have a good reason for being here, and you better explain that reason quickly."
"Have you heard of the Archfiend Baramos?" The words came unbidden from my mouth, as if scripted.
Which they were. I remembered this conversation. I remembered this woman's— Himiko was her name— answer.
"Yes, I have." Lady Himiko spoke carefully. "But I have no interest in hearing any more fairy tales. You must be the one they call Potter!" She snarled, as expected.
"I have received information from the Kingdom of Aliahan, Romalia, and Isis of the Desert." She spat out the kingdom names as if they were garbage. "Be aware that I do not scare as easily as others into some wild goose chase. Leave, now."
I nodded gravely, and left with no reply. The door slammed from behind me, the sound echoing through the large hallway. The guards didn't move— as expected.
I ended up exiting the city as fast as I could. Only this time, the citizens of the town were actually staring at me— quite intensely, in fact. It was very unnerving.
I made it out of town, and was greeted by the sight of a horse harnessed to a parked carriage. Probably mine, if I remembered correctly.
I took a deep breath, not believing I survived that encounter with the Lady Himiko. If we were really following the rules of that particular game, then I'd just had a conversation not with Himiko, but with Voldemort, who was disguised as her. It made sense with how Lady Himiko spat out my name with enough revulsion that it would make a Malfoy proud. It fit the storyline of the game.
Was Voldemort truly bound by the rules, like he had said?
If so, then this was good news.
If he was bound by the rules of the game, then I knew where I could find him. I knew his move-set, and I knew how to kill him.
The question is, how could I beat him? I called my energy to my hand, and attempted to direct it outwards. Just like before, no lightning came out.
"Damn it!" I swore loudly, hands balled up into tight fists. How was I supposed to fight without my magic?
"Wait." I said out loud, adopting a thoughtful look. It wasn't that I lost my magic. It's that my magic didn't follow the rules of this game! I strained my mind to remember everything it could about the game mechanics, classes, and spell list. Yes, it made sense. Lightning Dragon Slayer magic wouldn't work here, after all.
Just to make sure, I performed a test. I pointed my hand outward, and concentrated my energy.
"Blazemore!" almost immediately, a powerful fireball erupted from my hand, quickly setting fire to a nearby tree. The fire itself was oddly intense, turning the tree to ash in a matter of seconds. Hm. A Mage class? I could be a Sage, though.
"Upper." I waved my hand over myself. The area around my skin suddenly shimmered, forming translucent, form fitting shielding.
"All right then, I must be a Sage, if I can use the powers of both a Priest and a Mage." I said to myself, absently checking the parked carriage for anything useful. I found a gnarled staff and a red robe. There was nothing else.
The staff would increase the power of my attacks, but the real gem here would be the robe. It was supposed to halve the damage of fire-attacks— which would be Voldemort's main power, aside from his brute force. I quickly put the robe on over my regular clothes, and grabbed the staff, before setting off to the cave which was supposed to be south-east of here.
I screwed up with my directions, not really used to navigating. A few more tries later, and I had a decent grasp on where 'south-east' actually was. I made my way through the forest surrounding the city. Strangely, I encountered no monsters, which was a little unnerving.
In the game itself, the rate with which you encountered monsters was incredibly high. Sometimes you could go through a battle, then take two steps and end up in another battle. Right now? Nothing. No hint of any monsters whatsoever. Was I wrong about the rules? I just didn't know. I had no choice but to keep moving forward.
I reached the familiar dark red entrance to the cave, and made my way inside. It was just like I remembered it.
It was a good idea to wear that fire-resistant robe. The cave was filled with rivers of boiling magma. The atmosphere was of a suffocating quality. The air was incredibly hot, due to the magma, and there was a trace of sulfur in the air, filling the cave with a reddish haze. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought that this infernal place was Hell.
I made my way through the incredibly familiar passageways, easily avoiding all the dead ends and the various traps. The lack of monsters was beginning to bother me. Usually, at this point I would've been battling against Metal Slimes, as well as bears— though how bears could live in a magma filled environment with all that fur was beyond me.
"Chalk it up to a lack of imagination..." I muttered to myself, plowing through the tunnels. I finally reached a set of stairs leading down, and descended into a room filled with bones. These were the remains of the people who were sacrificed to the monster which was plaguing the nation of Zipangu; I would assume that the bones which were closest to the staircase were the humans who attempted to escape their fate. I licked my suddenly dry lips, and entered the sacrificial area. My heart was pounding wildly against my chest, as I readied myself up for battle.
This was the only tunnel which had no lava flows. I could see some unlit torches to the side, and assumed that this room had a good deal of them to provide decent lighting. However, since they were currently unlit, the room was shrouded in all-encompassing darkness. I sighed and ventured further inside the belly of the beast.
"So you came... So soon." I heard a growling voice say from the end of the dark tunnel, making me stiffen in shock. I had noticed another presence.
I weaved power into my hands, directing it at the torches of the room.
"Firebal."I incanted, and a small wave of fire was launched from my hand, striking most of the torches in the room, bathing everyone inside with a faint, yellowish light.
I took a weary step back. Even though I was aware of what I was about to fight, its appearance was so fearsome that it gave me pause. The Orochi was a green scaled dragon with five heads standing upon four legs. Each head had blue spines running up its length. The monster stood atop an altar, surrounded by the bones of fallen humans, most likely sacrificed to keep it from terrorizing the city of Zipangu.
I realized that the citizens of the nation of Zipangu were looking at me with hope, as I was exiting the city itself. They probably thought I was off to kill the frightening Orochi— which I was.
It glared at me with its crimson, snake eyes.
"You see, Potter?" One of the heads growled at me, as the others randomly spewed fire with great intensity, the heat wave forcing me to shield my face. "You have no chance against me. If you surrender right now, I'll make your death quick, and relatively painless."
"Yeah... I don't think I'll surrender." I answered back with confidence I didn't quite feel. "And besides, even if I do, I don't trust you to keep your word." I smiled wryly.
"You would be right." Orochimort— good name, right?— confirmed with a hiss. "If anything, your torture would have been prolonged, and a lot more intense, had you surrendered so easily."
"I thought as much." I said, and brandished my staff at the creature. "Are you ready to die, then?"
"Ready to kill!" Orochimort snarled, with one of its heads launching itself towards me with great speed. He planned on ending the battle as quickly as possible. I jumped back, avoiding the monster's jaws which closed with an audible snap, missing my body by mere inches.
"Upper! Upper! Upper!" I wasted no time, and cast the defensive spell as fast as I could in quick succession. A translucent white shielding swam over my form, greatly increasing my body's resistance to physical attacks. Granted, I was nowhere near impervious to such attacks, but this would buy me those precious few seconds I could use to escape.
"You believe you can protect yourself with such puny magic?" The green dragon laughed uproariously, before all the heads pointed in my direction, mouths open, preparing to—
"Shit!" I dived behind a nearby boulder, just in time for it to shield me from the most intense stream of flame shot I've ever been exposed to. This easily beat the Hungarian Horntail's fire breath, which made sense, since this powerful breath attack was simultaneously carried out by all of Orochimort's heads. The heat was incredibly intense; I felt like I was shoved into an oven. Even with my robe on, the flames felt like they were burning me alive.
"Barrier." I waved my hand over myself. A series of linked hexagons shimmered in front of me, forming a wall between me and the white hot flames. The previously debilitating flames became much more manageable, allowing me to enter the fight once more.
The stream of flames stopped, with Orochimort looking enraged at expending so much energy, and have so little to show for it.
"You didn't think this through, did you?" I couldn't resist the taunt, before I furiously slashed at the air in front of me, faintly noticing the 8-bit boss battle song in the background. Neat. "Icebolt!"
Large, sharpened blocks of ice formed around the many-headed dragon and converged on his form. There was a multitude of loud, stabbing noises. Orochimort shrieked painfully, the sound unintentionally causing me great discomfort, rendering me unbalanced for a few moments.
A few moments was all that Orochimort needed, as he swung his massive tail horizontally, catching me by the midsection. I was catapulted into the wall, smashing into it with enough force to crack the hard stone. I regained my bearings, just in time to avoid another stream of flames. The pain from that hit was not unbearable, but it was incredible nonetheless. A few more hits from that, and I'd be history.
Or... Wait.
"Healmore!" A green light covered my form, and I felt the pain fade into nothingness. As a Sage, I could both heal and attack.
Orochimort roared in anger. Strange, I hit him with an Icebolt just now. Where were the wounds? His form looked a little bloody, but it seemed as if the wounds had already completely healed. I didn't know the Orochi possessed regenerative capabilities! Was Voldemort breaking the rules? He couldn't be, or else he would have killed me in that room as Himiko, before.
"Let's shake things up a bit." I brandished my staff, and waved it in an arc in front of Orochimort, who snarled back, forming a dome of white energy around him. That particular barrier was capable of blocking any spell in existence. Worse yet, it reflected it back at the caster.
"Explodet!" The ceiling above the green dragon exploded, sending chunks of rock falling down towards the shield. Orochimort realized that he messed up a little too late, as the chunks of rock and the stalactites impaled the great monster. He wheezed painfully, as one of his heads proceeded to quickly yank out the stalactites from its wounded body, worsening his injuries in the process.
Orochimort's purple blood pooled on the ground as he attempted to heal himself with a spell.
"Heal—"
"Stopspell!" I quickly said, taking away the monster's ability to cast spells. I gazed at the bleeding wretch before me. Three of its heads were down for the count, while the other two looked as cut up as the rest of its body. Orochimort snarled at me, his crimson snake eyes defiant to the end.
"You can't beat me!" He tried to roar, but had to stop and vomit out more purple blood.
"Yeah, I think I can." I disagreed, holding my staff up high, ready to deliver the finishing blow. "Thordai—"
But Orochimort faded out of existence. And my surroundings began to shift once more.
The dark, stone walls turned into red, concrete ones. A line ran through these walls, forming a ball every few intervals. The hot stone floor, gave way to cold, blue tiles. Pillars resembling gigantic canines rose from the ground, forming a pathway leading into a faint light in the distance.
It was then that I noticed the man in front of me. He was wearing the strangest getup I'd seen in a while. He had a thin, angular face and spiky, red hair. He wore a medieval looking navy blue tunic, with orange trimming; a brown belt hung around his waist, and the man wore large black boots with orange two rings around the top of each boot. The cuffs of his long sleeves were black with orange zigzagging trim separating the cuff from the navy blue part of the sleeve. He sported a long, flowing cape around his neck which was black on the outside and crimson red on the inside.
"I still can't believe my dragons lost to you, Potter!" The spiky red haired man— who I recognized as Lance, the master of Dragon Pokémon— said, looking dismayed at losing.
"You're now the Pokémon League champion! …Or, you would have been, but you have one more challenge ahead. You have to face another trainer! His name is… Voldegary Oak! He beat the Elite Four before you. He is the real Pokémon League champion!"
Voldegary Oak. Really?
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I figure I might have to clarify a few things before you go crazy on the review section.
Harry is in a coma right now, battling against the Horcrux in his scar. His soul is creating attempts to defend itself by turning the battle of wills into a battle of video games, instead. Sorry to burst your bubble, but there won't be a Pokémon crossover or whatever.
Anyway, think you can guess what the first game was? I threw in a whole slew of references for you, without actually stating the name of the game.