The Burning Legion, that was the name of the demonic tide which enveloped the world, or that is what the few prisoners and survivors told Harry and his forces at any rate. It turned out that Rome had not been the only ritual taking place in Europe, let alone all over the world. With further gates opening all the time it had been hard to pinpoint the initial entrance gates, but Hermione estimated there were probably 273 of them and Harry trusted her enough not to question where she had gotten the number from.
The gates seemed to be based on areas where the earths Ley lines converged or crossed, drawing energy from the Earths own magic to maintain the magic required to assist in the gating of more Burning Legion troops. By themselves these gates wouldn't have been enough, the muggle militaries quickly mobilising to deal with the hordes of demons that rampaged through the streets of many of their major cities.
But the Legion and their minions had obviously been preparing for these events well before the rituals occurring, with human followers implanted throughout the world in various important locations where they could do the most damage. The American president, Barack Obama was assassinated even as he held an emergency war council about the incursion, the assassin taking out most of the rest of the top American thinkers and Generals before being gunned down by security forces.
The same happened elsewhere throughout the world, cultists sabotaging military units and their supplies, assassinating commanders, Countries leaders and other important personnel and informing their demonic masters of weaknesses in the human forces that could be exploited. These actions crippled any level of international response to the encroaching army, but the true danger came days later as entire cities began to fall ill.
The cultists had also coordinated a release of a highly virulent and lethal toxin they simply referred to as 'the plague'. It was tasteless, odourless and magical in nature, so there was no way for humans to detect it, and it proved deadly even in small doses. Within three weeks half the Earth's human population was dead, only to rise from their deaths to follow the whims of the Burning Legions command.
Africa fell quickly, the demons easily able to overrun the relatively unorganised and under trained military forces that did stand against them. South America held on for a time, using the advantageous natural terrain to their advantage as they fought defensively against the demons. Europe was divided, with Eastern Europe falling under the demons sway quickly whilst the NATO countries mobilised all their forces to try and destroy the gateways in their own countries before turning their attention to the rest of the world.
Throwing the Statute of Secrecy to the wind Harry brought the British strike force to the frontlines of the battles in England, fighting alongside the muggle forces with no sense of secrecy or hiding their powers. The Legion had several gateways based throughout the British Islands, with the main ones based at the Giants Causeway, Azkaban and Stonehenge. The forces from stonehenge had stormed straight for London, and despite two weeks of valiant defensive fighting by the muggle forces the demons slammed through into the city itself.
Harry had been too busy leading troops to crush the plague outbreaks throughout the rest of the country so that they were only fighting on three fronts as opposed to dozens. However, he was able to convince Arthur Weasley via Floo to evacuate the ministry to Hogwarts rather than remain where they were once the demons broke through to central London. The now aged wizard had supposedly seen to the evacuations of each department personally. Then Arthur armed himself with dragonhide and an extra wand, leading the Aurors to defend both the magical areas of St Mungos and Diagon alley.
The Floo call had been the last that Harry had seen of the Elder Weasley who had become so much like a pseudo father figure to him both during and after Hogwarts. The surviving aurors reported that he had engaged the newly classified 'dreadlord' class of demon in the collapsing ruins of the St Mungos atrium to give them and the hospital staff time to flee.
Considering the dreadlords were considered the most intelligent and dangerous of the humanoid demons, leading lesser demons and only stepping personally into battle when they saw an opening or were needed to crush particularly stubborn resistance, Harry felt that Arthur had at least gone out in a worthy manner.
With the fall of the ministry it was only a matter of time before London fell entirely and the remaining military leaders, both magical and muggle, convened a council at Oxford as how best to act next. Harry didn't attend the meeting, sending the well spoken and charming Blaise Zabini in his place as he struck out at the demon gate at Azkaban. The Island fortress had probably seemed an ideal location for the demons to use as a staging point for their invasion, and Harry was determined to prove them wrong.
With the assistance of one of the surviving clans of Gringotts goblins, who had finally accepted Harry's offer of asylum when the demons finally stormed the ground floor of gringotts, Harry obtained the services of a black Friesian Darkwing dragon. Smallest of all the known dragon species being barely twice the size of a horse, it was very swift of wing and very hard to spot or detect. Using it to slip past demon patrols, Harry managed to land on the northernmost edge of the island.
What followed was probably the largest single use of magical power in the last millenium, with Harry physically sinking the island beneath the waves, tearing apart the fortress and the gates within it with huge flurries of earthen magic that he had been storing for months in the form of runes and scrolls of power.
The use of so much magic and its coursing through his magical core had its downsides however, and if not for the Darkwing lifting his comatose body from the small perch he had left floating for him to stand on Harry would have probably died there either to the waves or vengeful demon patrols.
It took Harry three weeks to recover from the event, the British forces managed to take out the Giants causeway gate as well, but at the cost of many lives and equipment. This would have been a great turning point for the humans, if the rest of the world was doing anywhere near as well. The American forces had been the focus of the demon assaults, with more gates opened there than anywhere else, and a year into the conflict the muggle government was left with no choice but to try and use their nuclear weapons on their own country, in an effort to stem the tide of attackers.
Unfortunately most of the magical communities in the U.S and the rest of the world had decided that the best chance of surviving the invasion was to simply hide away from the attacking demons, trusting in their magical wards and hidden entry ways to keep them safe from the encroaching horde. Therefore when the nukes dropped thousands of magicals were instantly killed, the muggle government not having known that they were in the blast range.
For those that survived there was if possible a worse fate awaiting them as the nukes had little effect outside of their initial blast areas, neither the undead or demons showing adverse effects to the radiation subject to them. Soon there were groups of Fel Hounds scouring the countryside and stripping the magic from their wards like gluttons at a feast.
The demons were even intelligent about dealing with the wizards, bringing traitor mages to each location as they were discovered and weaving anti apparation and portkey wards to ensure that those inside would not escape the ravening hordes that waited outside.
Refugees from the continent slowly poured into Britain by any means they could, air, boat or even through the channel tunnel, fighting their way through demon forces to the British held points that had slowly retreated to Birmingham as the numbers of demons and undead slowly overcame the conventional armed forces that was arrayed against them.
Regardless of the odds against them, the humans continued to fight against the demons for another two years, with Britain slowly becoming the last true point of resistance as first America, China and then Germany fell under the sway of the Legion. With the battleground becoming focussed to the singular country, the Legion could commit its most dangerous troops to the fight.
Doom guard, Pit lords and Pit fiends arrived in their droves, shattering the defences laid before them and spearheading the onslaught through England into Scotland. Hermione had foreseen this eventuality, even if the more stubborn military forces refused to listen to her and made a heroic if pointless last stand. Hermione had expanded the Vault to house more refugees,as well as setting up five other facilities which were much larger, two for human survivors, one for magical creature survivors and the last for food production.
With the Burrow which was the magical creature hold, there had been several groups that had refused to join them underground. Specifically the centaurs had refused to leave their forest, fighting to the last as the forbidden forest burned down around them as they claimed the stars had told them that this was the end of Earth.
With the Legion devouring Earths magic and resources to replace the losses of their army, it was only a matter of time before their world would become unlivable even with their magic to help sustain them. From captured demons they found that they were not the only world being assaulted by the Legion, there were other worlds holding their ground against the demonic forces.
Therefore the plan was simple, use a beacon to locate a viable world and transport someone across to find a suitable place for the rest of the refugees to gate to as well. Of course, there were the natives of the new world to deal with, but Hermione and the others were sure that they would become allies against their mutual enemy the Legion. Harry, having seen the disagreements that still flared up between the magical races despite the Legion threat, couldn't be quite so sure...
Chapter 1: From Earth to Ashes.
Harry stepped softly over the cracked and broken earth, invisibility cloak not impeding his progress in the slightest as another group of satyr demons passed by him. Their cackling grated painfully on Harry's nerves but he knew he needed to maintain control of his magic and emotions. As if on cue there were a pair of soul rending howls away to the east of him, and the ambient magic in the air around him began to drop noticeably.
The Felhounds responsible for the magic drain loped over the hill a moment later, three of the beasts with their gaping maws open wide and sensing tendrils flailing in the manner they often used when encountering powerful magic such as Harry's. The beasts could sense his magic even when he tried his best to minimise the emissions, but with the invisibility cloaks powers he couldn't be sensed precisely.
Sneaking forwards closer to the hounds, Harry waited until the Satyrs passed completely over the hill and outside of easy hearing range. He knew he would have to deal with the Felhounds that were still sniffing around the area, before they decided to alert their far more formidable masters to the presence of his magic.
Flowing his magic into the ground through his magically conducting boot soles, Harry waited until the trio grouped together for a moment before having hands made of earth grab their paws and dragging them all down into the earth. The largest of the three managed to get a terrified whine out of its mouth before it was cut off by the encroaching earth, but no one came to investigate as Harry focussed further and crushed the beasts thirty feet below the ground.
Harry fell to one knee panting slightly as his magic drained as the earth's weakening magical fields meant more magic was drawn from him instead of from the ambient magics. The reason he performed such a tiring piece of magic however was that if the demons found the corpses killed in any of his usual fashion they would know that it was him that they were dealing with, in which case stealth was no longer required in the slightest.
Whilst he could probably destroy all resistance between him and the portal in an open fight, it would leave him too tired to anchor himself to the beacon that he carried in an expandable pouch on his waist, and thus the entire effort would be pointless. As such he carried on forwards in the direction of the small demon camp surrounding one of their summoning portals, the target of his operation here.
His ear grew warm for a moment before Ellen's voice came through, the woman using a modified marauders map that could track his progress under the invisibility cloak. "Harry, that looks to be the only group of Fel hounds in the area. With our attacks on the Manchester area in the previous week the Legion have obviously moved their assets to handle us if we attack there again."
The attacks on Manchester, which not only destroyed two portals and killed hundreds of demons, also managed to rescue 40 survivors who had been surviving in the sewer systems that they had not known were there. As such it had seemed to really annoy the demon forces who were still trying to pacify Harry and his 'phantoms' as the demons had taken to calling them.
It had been one of Hermiones ideas in the build up to the project, and if it had worked as well as it seemed Harry was going to give her one hell of a thank you when he got back. Reaching up for his ear in the manner a muggle would their earpiece, he spoke quietly as he reached the brow of the hill looking down over the demon encampment. "Give Hermione my thanks, that just made things easier here. What else am I facing and where am I going?"
There was a moment's pause as Ellen probably looked over her map and her voice came back a little more unsurely. "I can't tell you exactly Harry, the magic in the area is too weak for me to get accurate readings, but nothing bigger than Satyrs or void walkers I imagine. To get to the gate easily you will have to head through the main entrance to the encampment, the main 'road' will take you straight to it. I would advise dealing with as many demons as you can before trying the device, the magical output might be too much even for your cloak to shield effectively."
Harry chuckled at the worried tone in Ellen's voice, though the girl had overseen the tactical part of many missions like this, she always felt that her intel could be better and that something might go wrong. "I will see what I can do, where are they currently doing instead of being there by the way?" The they that he referred to were Susan, Daphne, Hermione and Ginny.
The five of them shared an... interesting relationship, one that the girls had decided upon and Harry had no choice but to accept, not that he would refuse of course. One of the interesting things about it all was that none of the four girls could bear to be in the Operations room whilst he was on missions, especially after the first couple of fights with the Legion when the casualty rate was in the double digits and Harry was often one of the worst off of the survivors.
Ellen snorted at his question then giggled slightly, obviously amused by the question as much as he was. "What do you think they are doing bro? From what my ninja mice tell me Ginny is currently destroying several targets on the practice range, Daphne is trying to run every part of the Vault at once, Hermione has buried herself in her books and."
"Susan is listening in to every word you say Harry dear, perhaps you and Ellen want to think of some better humour to keep you going on this mission?" Susan's voice was cheerful despite the menacing undertone showing she wasn't too annoyed at either of them, especially when her voice came over the main microphones a moment later. "This is yours by the way Ellen, feisty little bugger all round." There was a muffled movement and a small squeak that caused Harry to raise an eyebrow in surprise.
"Ellen, do you actually have ninja mice? I thought you were just joking with me about them when you mentioned them last year. Why have you never told me properly about this before hand?" Susan chuckled and he could imagine Ellens face turning the same colour as her hair. "The reason she probably hasn't told you dear is that she doesn't want you to know what she has them spying on..." There was an 'eep' noise from Ellen, but Harry didn't quite get what Susan was implying.
Assuming it was a girl thing that he could work out later, Harry turned back to the matter at hand. "Well, as long as one of you is keeping me updated with the map I don't really care what the mice are up to. I am reaching the main entrance now, I will let you know when I am done." Lowering his hand and retrieving the sword of Gryffindor from its runes, Harry set to work on clearing the encampment quickly and quietly. Then once he was in the clear, the real fun would begin...
Persona change: Nash'ala, Naga exile.
Nash'ala was more terrified right now than she had ever been in her entire life. Her more human upper body was currently blue coloured as opposed to its usual green, and her serpentine tail was wrapped like a spring underneath her to give extra thrust to any dodge she would need to make. Not that there was anywhere she could go Nash'ala thought as her dark yellow eyes looked around the bone and wooden cage for what seemed to be the millionth time in the 6 hours since her capture.
It was bad enough for the young Naga that she had been caught by the Legion patrols whilst trying to escape a group of night elves that had tried to kill her on sight, but two of the night elves were still alive and in the cage with her. Looking at their murderous expressions Nash'ala wasn't sure whether it would be the demons that would kill her or whether her fellow captives would gang up on her first.
Not for the first time Nash'ala cursed herself for her exile that led to this. Having been born only 40 years beforehand, Nash'ala had been but a child when the Naga under Lady Vashj had tried to aid Illidan Stormrage in his quest to destroy both arthas and the Lich King. It was only by the mercy of Tyrande Whisperwind herself, who had led the Night Elf forces through the base that Nash'ala had been staying in during her pursuit of the demonhunter. Tyrande had spared her life when she came across the young Naga's cowering figure in the ruins of the pool Nash'ala had crawled in as night elves stormed the temple of Storms, putting her under guard and escorting her to the ocean where she was freed under a promise she was forced to make at arrow point. 'Never to threaten the night elves again."
Nash'ala had remembered the incident with poignant clarity as she continued to grow up, slowly growing more and more vocal about her opposition to the Naga clans determination to conquer the surface dwellers. Having seen how much of a disadvantage the Naga were when out of water in comparison to the battle hardened night elf warriors, Nash'ala advocated that instead the naga should join either the Horde or the alliance forces and forge allies to help them triumph.
She knew that her ideas hadn't been popular, but she hadn't expected one day to have a mob of Naga warriors break into her house and beat her into submission, before dragging her through the streets of their settlement. If not for the intervention of Xan'sala, a veteran Naga warrior who had joined the elite ranks of the Myrmidons, the mob may have simply slaughtered her there in an offering to Azshara, their ruler at the time of the Well of eternity's destruction.
Xan'sala had deigned not to kill her, but he had perhaps enacted a much worse punishment upon her. Binding her magic with the use of a bracelet she couldn't remove, Xan'sala decreed that if she liked the surface dwellers so much she should join them and become one of the Naga's enemies to be slaughtered when they rose to take their rightful place.
Nash'ala was drawn from her self piteous musing as a group of Satyrs approached the cage, lead by the Satyr Soulstealer that seemed to be in charge of the little camp that she had blundered across. The Soulstealer was still eating from a hunk of meat with dark purple skin like the night elves in the cage with her, leaving no doubt what had happened to the night elf male who they had dragged off for 'interrogation' an hour beforehand.
Nash'ala backed away from the front of the cage, where she had been staying to keep away from the night elves, hoping that it wouldn't be her that would be picked next. It was stupid, as she knew there was no way out from here regardless of the order in which they were killed, but she supposed it was an instinct most races carried within them.
The satyrs stopped some 10 feet from the cage as they were distracted from their prey by the summoning gate, which was the prominent feature of the camp standing almost 40 feet tall, started throbbing with energy in steadily increasing pulses. Almost a minute later the pulses reached an intensity of energy that Nash'ala had to look away as it pained her magical senses, so it was only the thundering crack that alerted her to the end of the phenomenon.
Looking back Nash'ala saw that the gate had returned to its previous state, but there were several large cracks spanning the supporting pillars and the red demon runes that spanned its length were glowing even more brightly and angrily than normal. The satyrs seemed too shocked to react for several moments, before the soulstealer started chattering authoritatively in its native tongue, sending half the satyrs back to the portal with several bats of the flat side of its longsword.
The other demons that were based around the camp were also moving to investigate the gate, but the soulstealer turned back to the cage, cocky grin back on its face as it finished its approach to the cage and sheathed its sword. Drawing its free hand across the bones and wooden panels that made up the cages structure the soulstealer took another vicious bite out of the flesh, chewing it for a few seconds before spitting it through the cage bars onto the cowering night elves.
One of them started crying, whilst the taller of the two simply kept glaring whilst hurriedly wiped the flesh off her face as the satyrs cackled in harsh enjoyment of the terrible spectacle. The soulstealer finished chewing the rest of the meat before swallowing, open-toothed grin showing blood and gristle before speaking once more. "I hope the three of you are feeling comfortable in there. Your other friend seemed to be rather vocal about our...hospitality."
The three remaining satyrs, who had just been calming down, burst into chattering laughter once more, the soulstealer joining them at its own poor joke. Nash'ala's attention was drawn from the satyrs to the camp behind them by a flash of something out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes widened as she saw the corpses of the satyrs that had been sent to watch the gate sank into the ground in time to avoid detection by a felsworn patrol, the rearmost Felsworn falling in twain a moment later from a sword that seemed to ghost into existence from nowhere.
She watched as if mesmerised for several moments as the blade cut down the remaining three felsworn without a sound reaching their position, the bodies sinking like the satyrs before them into the ground. Suddenly she was struck by a curse from the soulstealer, pain filling every nerve in her body as she fell twitching to the floor. "Foolish fish thing, you are rude enough to ignore me when I am graciously talking to you. Do you wish to be the next for our little chat?"
Whilst it was speaking it maintained the curse on her, only stopping when it realised she was in too much pain to even attempt to reply to it. Nash'ala fell to the ground breathing heavily as her muscles spasmed weakly from the ghost pains that the curse left in her body. The soulstealer spoke again as she managed to force herself up on her hands once more. "I wonder, what does fish thing taste like? I look forwards to finding o..Urgh!"
Looking up at the surprised noise from her captor, Nash'ala saw him standing shocked as he looked down to the lightly glowing broadsword that had pierced his chest from behind, clawing weakly at the blade as it was withdrawn, causing him to fall to the ground with a pained gurgle. Behind him was stood a tall human male with shoulder length raven black hair obscuring most of his facial features, broadsword in one hand as he held a wand in the other.
Nash'ala only just contained her moan of despair as she realised that her situation had barely improved. With the humans xenophobia and the scars left by Lady Vashj helping the blood elves rebelling against them, her chances of surviving the day had actually just gotten worse rather than better, especially with the pleased grins that were now present on the night elves faces. It really just wasn't her day...