The cell Malachi was held in was no ordinary cell. Positioned in the center of a large vaulted Victorian style chamber, it was a tetrahedron of solid magic, blue light writhing slowly like fire in a slowed down film. The figure of Greymist could still be made out sitting in the center of the tetrahedron. No food and no drink did they give him, his clothes were a charred mess, yet his serenity remained unbroken.

It was deathly quiet, and there was no one else around as Jeremy moved closer to the cell. Greymist watched him, unmoving, unblinking.

Why did he appear at Temple Church? He could've just sent Abigail to spy on them, which was in fact what he did. Then he could've raced ahead of them and snatched Irion away before they ever even realized he knew what they knew. Why the exposure? Did he appear at Temple Church simply to converse with Jeremy? These thoughts went through the Auror's head in an instant, and he decided that he had some things he wanted to get off his chest. „Our attitude towards the world... goes a long way to determining how our lives will be. Don't you agree?" he began.

In his cell, Greymist nodded slowly.

„Well, since you agree," Jeremy went on, „I guess you're not the kind of person who cares about the good life."

„The good life?" Greymist spoke up for the first time since his capture, thinking about the words. „What is that? Is that the life you have?"

Jeremy thought about it. Face of a woman. Tears of a child. School. Job. Bodies. Bodies. Bodies. „No," he admitted.

Greymist's eyes roamed over him, searching for something. Again Jeremy wondered if he knew about the vial. Greymist cleared his throat. „A dragonslayer goes into the woods," he began. „He sees an enormous dragon in the distance... biggest he has ever seen."

Jeremy looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Greymist went on. „The hunter draws back his dragon slaying greatbow and looses a harpoon. The dragon falls. The hunter gives chase, but to his surprise he finds no blood, no fallen trees. The dragon's nowhere to be found. Suddenly... from behind, the dragon taps his shoulder with a massive claw and explains: "You took your shot. You missed. So, now I either feast, or... I sodomize you. The choice is yours". Naturally the hunter chooses life."

Jeremy rolled his eyes but didn't interrupt the other. Now he wanted to hear where this was going.

„Next day, the hunter returns to the woods," the joke went on. „He's brought a dragonslayer rifle this time. The hunter sees this dragon in the distance. Aims, fires, and charges headlong to where the dragon was felled... only, again, he finds: no dragon. The hunter's in disbelief, when the dragon appears beside him saying: "You know the deal." Indignity ensues.

„The following day, the hunter treks back into the forest, armed with a bazooka. He spots the dragon, lines him in his crosshairs and fires. The recoil of the bazooka knocks the hunter backwards. When the smoke clears and the hunter's regained his senses, he finds the dragon standing over him, his arms crossed, squinting..." at this Greymist crossed his arms and squinted in imitation of the dragon. „And the dragon says... "You're not really out here for the hunting, are you?""

Jeremy couldn't help but smile. Greymist did not, but he did seem pleased nonetheless that the joke landed.

The dream he had two days ago, the one about the man with the head of a dragon and a dragon with the head of a man, moving through an endless hallway, it was obvious at this point that Greymist had implanted the dream into his mind somehow. There were two questions on Jeremy's mind now. The dream and the joke, both related to their... situation. But which one was the hunter and which one was the hunted? Both? Neither?

„There's a couple of things I didn't understand, Greymist. You wanted information, you could've sent someone in your stead and remained hidden. Why show up at Temple Church? Because again, I doubt it was just to have a conversation. No, this whole thing, the reason you're here in the first place is because..." he trailed off, hoping Greymist would take the bait. When he didn't, Jeremy finished for him. „Because you couldn't help yourself."

„Maybe," Greymist conceded, shrugging. „But it also occured to me that I never apologized."

„For what?"

„For what I did. For what I plan to do."

Jeremy felt his anger rise. „Like that will do any good."

„It won't," he agreed. „The door has been opened, and never will it close again. If you want to catch me, you'll have to go through the door. And you nearly did, earlier today."

He thought he understood what Greymist meant. Jeremy had never killed anyone, but if he were to rid the world of the self–proclaimed dark lord, it seemed like he would have to do just that. For all his supposed remorse, the man showed no sign that he truly wanted to turn away from the path he chose for himself.

„You know, that Seattle situation," the self–proclaimed dark lord continued, „It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did. The plan was to kidnap the President of the United States first, then take over the city. My hand was forced. I acted in anger."

Greymist? Act rashly? Act in anger? That was one hell of an admission, if true. „Alright," Jeremy replied with a weary exhale, „what was it that forced your hand?"

„I'll tell you another time. If we're still standing, and you still care."

I'll be standing alright, Jeremy thought inwardly. Outwardly he said, „I'm not really buying into this well–intentioned extremist story of yours. I mean, you're saying you're sorry, that you were pushed into it... if you were really pushed on this path, you wouldn't persist in it. You would try to turn back. And you haven't."

Greymist hummed. „Maybe because I see something you don't. Fascinating how the one person closest to understanding me is also the one to oppose me so bitterly."

„When that happens, it's time to rethink your goals. Unless you wish to enlighten me right now?"

„Enlighten you? My goal is nothing so profound. I just want wizards and non–wizards to live together, as one. If they would exit their seclusion, human race could cover a thousand years of progress in just a century. You know it, I know it." He looked at Jeremy, eyes aflame with fervor. „Don't tell me you don't understand now," he dared to speak, „when I know how your mother died."

That was a step too far. „You don't get to talk about my mother," Jeremy growled at the self–proclaimed dark lord who sat in his cell, quite unaffected by the Auror's anger. „You know, Greymist, why don't you say what you really want? You want to be in control of it all. I won't begrudge you that, wanting to rule the world isn't a crime. But if you put the lives of millions at risk pursuing your ambition, then I will be there to end you. Because with your talents, with your intelligence, you could've been anything you wanted to be. You were a detective, you were famous, and that wasn't enough for you. No, you decided you should have it all. Why? By what right?"

„Why don't you use the Imperius curse on me and see for yourself?" Greymist grinned.

Jeremy stumbled over his words at the sight of his smile. „What? I... I won't–"

„Really? You won't? Human rights were nonexistent among the wizards of England, both before Voldemort and under his regime. Hell, I'm sitting in this cell right now and I have not yet been given anything to eat or to drink. At least Voldemort was honest about his oppression. And so am I." Greymist pointed at his chest. „I wish to rule. I wish to rule, so that I may upend the whole of it, and rid the world of all that came before."

Jeremy backed down. He had little in the way of response to that. All he could muster was, „Sounds like an empty world."

„Yeah? Then maybe you and me, we should both go do something else, pal."

Jeremy laughed, despite himself. „I don't... I don't think I know how to do anything else. Maybe..." he began but stopped, suddenly feeling his nerves wet his brow. And though he denied it, a part of himself still finished the sentence, if only in his mind. Maybe I don't really want to.

„Maybe I don't, either," Greymist whispered, sharing in both confessions at once. „You do what you do. I do what I gotta do."

„If you're hoping for me to become your best friend all of a sudden and wish good luck to my worthy opponent..." Jeremy shook his head vigorously and smiled, an expression looking more like a grimace of pain than anything else. „Not happening. Why don't you tell us where's Abigail instead?"

„It's not over," Greymist said, but the conversation was over there. From that point onward he fell silent, not answering any questions posed to him by Jeremy. Exasperated, Taylor left him alone to deal with the taunts levelled at him by the Aurors who would happen to enter his dungeon to pay their disrespects to the wannabe dark lord.