Hundreds of miles away from any form of society, wizarding or muggle alike—the lost dreadnought coasted across the Atlantic, peacefully adrift at sea.

Fortified, enormous, and fitted with a plethora of expansion charms inside—the great old battleship remained hidden from the world like always, where all comers from all walks of life would congregate, and where the revolution had silently and secretly begun.

Gone were the days of Valefor traipsing about the ship, screaming randomly and making snide comments to anyone passing by him, and gone were the days of Mary-Lynn being escorted around by her parents, coaxed and initiated into the great movement that started on this very ship. Now—with all of them compromised and locked away—the rest of the Seal of Shadows remained, though quite honestly, it wasn't as if they truly needed their lost members in order to continue getting by.

After all, the ship was positively filled with Xyler supporters, various wizards from countless creeds and cultures, none dressed in cloaks or hats, none bearing any sort of incriminating mark. No—the Shadow Hand were the same as any other wizard you'd ever see, with their ordinary clothes and demeanors, with their usual attitudes from their own normal lives back home, and that—for anyone living outside of them—might've been the most unsettling thing of all.

Everyone aboard the Xyler Dreadnought was as ordinary as ever.

English, Irish, German, African, Asian, American, and so on—all types of wizards from all over the world would come together here, and all of them with the very same goals in mind.

Not of racial or blood cleansing, and not of wizards claiming total power over muggle kind.

No—the purpose of Xyler and the Seal of Shadows was nobler than that of any questionable wizards that rose before them.

"It is the end," Malachi understood, muttering softly as he stood at the bow of the ship, gazing across the shimmering ocean waters. "The final end… before a final new start."

"Malachi-san," another voice spoke from behind him.

Malachi barely peeked over his shoulder, seeing a sleek Japanese wizard strolling up to him, stopping by his side. It was someone he knew well amid the ranks of the Shadow Hand, a man named Yukito Takahashi, one of the quickest and most skilled wizards on board.

"Yes?" Malachi mumbled.

Yukito paused, adjusting his glasses with his knuckles and gazing out at the Atlantic, his short black hairs slicked stylishly backward similarly to how Malachi's hair always was, and his robe was just as dark as well, though it had a faint navy hue to it, and it was styled like something resembling a kimono.

"I was instructed to ask you why your son is not on board," Yukito informed.

Malachi spared him a brief, pensive squint. "I see. And… they're sending the warrior class out here to interrogate the informant class, are they? I can hardly imagine."

"You know Xyler does not see class among us," Yukito told him. "He sees family."

"Right, right. Well… as someone who actually has to deal with reality outside this ship… our various classes in the Shadow Hand are based on our various skillsets, and organizing that for the sake of survival and success does matter to me," Malachi chided. "It doesn't have to matter to Xyler, and that's all well and good… but it has to matter to those of us who deal in it daily."

"We were simply not expecting to see you here," Yukito added. "Not unless you managed to encourage your son to join us."

"Well… the time isn't right," Malachi sighed.

Yukito turned his head, narrowing his eyes at him.

Malachi continued staring at the ocean, looking distant. "The boy's got so many skills and so many priorities in place… but his ideals are still leaning solely in one direction. I'm hoping the Triwizard Tournament will show him more sides of reality. That tournament has a tendency to expose many unpleasant things to a person, all at once… and, once that happens… then… perhaps he'll have a more open mind."

Yukito made a thoughtful expression. "I must say… that sounds like it can only work if he partakes in the tournament."

"Oh… I know," Malachi uttered, nodding mildly. "I know."

There was a pause, and the two of them continued gazing across the Atlantic, the sky darkening more with every passing second, the glorious sunset slowly fading into a peaceful, endless twilight.

"I didn't want him with her," Malachi murmured, mostly to himself.

Yukito squinted at him again.

"I mean I…" Malachi paused and sighed. "I didn't want him with a type like her. All those raggedy, earthy, short-tempered loons running amok in carnivals… it's bizarre to think anyone in my family could ever mix with… anyone like them. But… given what transpired at Hogwarts, right before the schoolyear was over… I know he's too attached to let go. And, now… now that I've had time to think… maybe… I don't need him to let go."

Yukito gently tilted his head, eyeing him curiously.

"Because… I do know… that Xyler plans for Zander and Alice to join us all here," Malachi muttered. "And I can't wrap my head around that entirely… can't imagine how he plans to coax the hotheaded Irish out of their little carnival, especially given the way Samuel is… but… that is what he plans to do. And if he succeeds… if he actually gets Samuel to agree, or if he actually manages to get Alice here regardless of Samuel's wishes… then…"

Malachi let out a heavy cloud of breath.

"Then I don't need to push my son anymore," he disclosed. "It's better if he finds his way here by natural means rather than forceful ones, anyway…"

Yukito made a nod, then shot him another look. "The way they both fought Valefor… at least, the way it read in the Daily Prophet… it doesn't seem likely that either of them are close to joining our cause, at least right now."

Malachi turned, narrowing his eyes intently at him. "If you read all about it in the paper, then why did you come out here to ask me about it as if you had no clue what my answers might be?"

"I was told to ask," Yukito reminded him. "That doesn't mean I was ignorant of the answer."

Malachi's expression grew steadily more suspicious. "Sounds as if the others want to lure me into slipping up in conversation. Do they not trust me?"

"They've not lost trust in you," Yukito answered. "But the trust of a double-agent must always be tested."

Malachi made a slow, easeful nod, biting his lip and facing the ocean again. "Fair enough."

Yukito cupped his hands. "It is also worth mentioning that your… blood ideals… they do not carry over well."

Malachi hesitated, blinking and giving him another odd squint.

"You must know by now," Yukito told him. "The ideals of blood purity are from a time far gone, and from movements far lesser than ours. Xyler holds no value in the idea of pure-bloodedness, nor mixed-blood or non-majutsu. Our goal is a means for all people, everywhere. It may bode well for you to abandon whatever pure-blood ideals are left inside you… because… Xyler does not abide by them… and, quite frankly, neither does America. Those types of trivial and tribalist ideals do not matter in the grand scheme at all."

Malachi nodded vacantly at the open sea, inhaling a deep, thoughtful breath, pondering on all the unthinkably enormous things that Seal of Shadows intended to accomplish, feeling as if Yukito was, quite honestly, correct.

"Perhaps," he conceded. "Perhaps they really don't…"

The two of them paused again.

Then, Yukito perked his brow at him. "Does your son intend to compete in the tournament?"

"Yes," Malachi affirmed. "He was talking about it rather passionately with his little girlfriend, last I heard."

"Ah. Well… my son intends to do the same," Yukito replied. "It seems our sons may be going against one another next year."

"Well… if the Goblet of Fire chooses them," Malachi shrugged. "I suppose we'll see."

"Hai… very soon, we will," Yukito nodded. "We have all summer long to refortify our American stronghold… and this schoolyear won't start until the Ilvermorny year begins, which gives us even more time. The summer holidays in America tend to last longer than the ones you're accustomed to. By the time everyone across the pond is arriving to enjoy the tournament… we'll already be well at home."

"And the final year of this world can come to pass," Malachi said softly. "Though… I have to say… Xyler seems strangely unfazed about losing out on his relics. He set his sights on obtaining the Swords of Salazar before the year of the tournament, and he doesn't seem bothered at all that he hasn't gotten them. That's particularly strange to me… considering… as I understand it, they're necessary for the plans he has."

"Oh… he still plans to get them," Yukito knew. "He's always got another plan if the first one doesn't follow through."

"Fair point," Malachi mumbled. "I'm just wondering what it is. God knows they must've moved the swords from Hogwarts, and we can't know where they ended up from there."

"Xyler will know before long," Yukito said confidently. "He has more eyes and ears all over the world than anyone else alive."

"Well, yes, that's true…"

"Besides… Valefor and Mary-Lynn will have a bit of inside information, and that will help."

"Yes… but… the two of them have been taken in by the Ministry."

Yukito paused, turning and giving Malachi a once-over. "Did you not know? Xyler plans to have them among us again before summer's end."

Malachi made a face at him. "And how exactly does he plan to do that?"

Yukito paused, then revealed a sly, knowing smile. "Did you think you were his only mole in the Ministry of Magic? Anata-wa baka-no-roba desuka?"

Malachi stared at him. "What…?"

"Oy," another wizard joined in, approaching them from behind and waving for their attention. "Come along. It's started."

Malachi and Yukito traded faces, then followed the wizard down the expansive bow of the ship, strolling beneath the night sky.

They all entered the nearest doorway—and they emerged inside an interior that far surpassed the enormity of the ship outside.

Before them was an absolutely endless array of people; the gigantic and seemingly infinite room played host to hundreds, thousands, of wizards from all over the world, the ceiling high and decorated with numerous orb-like lights, the walls covered with all their national flags—and far above them all was a single metal podium, where the leader of the revolution now stood.

Dark and ominous, the shadowy figure slowly raised his hands, somehow managing to hush the crowd of thousands in only seconds.

Xyler was a shadow of a man, quite literally; the man always appeared as a living silhouette, as if he was simply a walking conduit of darkness, no details of his body or face ever visible on his person, save for the two white eyes that resided on his expressionless black visage. The true identity of Xyler was never known by anyone, even his closest partners within the Seal of Shadows—though now, as the great crowd of wizards from all over the globe unanimously fell silent before him, it was never more apparent how little this mattered, because they all trusted him with everything in the world.

"And here… we all stand," Xyler spoke above the endless crowd, his voice a smooth, silky rasp. "On our greatest voyage… toward our final year… of what this world calls normal."

A few murmurs broke out across the crowd.

"So very long… we've lived like tragedies," Xyler said. "Wizards, muggles, mix-families, and all… with every war, every fight, every conspiracy, and every dark endeavor… it always boils down… to one… great… flaw."

The crowd began to nod along in agreement.

"We… destroy each other," Xyler stated firmly. "Muggle politics divide and breed hate, creating wars, and genocides, and pain… and us, in our world… can we say we're any different? Our history in the wizarding world tells me… no. We are not."

The nodding and mutters of agreement seemed to grow a bit louder.

"Humanity… needs… a reset," Xyler announced definitively. "And we, my faithful followers… are the harbingers of the greatest reset this world will ever know. The greatest movement to hard-reset every priority. The greatest act to finalize that this world… the wizarding side and the muggle side alike… is not one we will accept."

The crowd grew even louder, some shouting and whistling approvingly up at their leader.

"And our dear, ancient friend at sea… will see to it all," Xyler said with great resolve. "Within one year's time… the world will finally… be entirely reborn anew."

At once, the crowd became deafening in yells and applause.

And—as Malachi observed, even from so far away, lingering at the back of the worldly wizarding crowd—he could've sworn he spotted Xyler's featureless face morphing around what might've been a smooth, shadowy smile.

End of Arc 1