INNOVATOR; Ch 45: Everything Ends

Author's Note: Hello there, this is chapter 45 of INNOVATOR. I really hope you will like it.

Also, many thanks and congratulations to our seven holders of the Guildmaster tier: Camo, I am Lord Dems, StormFox, RyanMK666, Lyrical , PenguGoesVroom and Hydrus Black!😇🥰

Now, without any further ado....Let's begin!

Author Out!

“I am Talking.” 

‘I am Thinking’

Spells

"The Damned talking."

"Death talking"

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Everything ends in Death. Everything.

Death is terrible, and yet the truest end to all.

~Leo Tolstoy 

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INNOVATOR

-Dev Sagittarius Black

~~Chapter 45: Everything Ends~~

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"Potter?!” A voice boomed, “What are you doing?”

Emerald pools glanced at the bloodied field beneath them, the rotting corpses and the burned grotesque creatures, before they fell on the male version of a lamia that slithered between them, its large tail involuntarily flicking off pieces of charred flesh and drops of blood as the infamous Guildmaster looked up at him with his reptilian golden eyes.

“Cleaning up the mess, Beasten.” He replied, “I have convinced the Dementors for a feast of sorts.” He smirked, “Just placing them as close to the sources as I can.” 

“The…dementors?” 

“They kinda feast on souls, so….” He pointed at the small horde of dementors that was rapidly approaching the open rift in the distance, where they could clearly see a thick stream of damned souls pouring out of it. 

Beasten’s eyes widened in surprise when he witnessed the way an entire tarnished soul was, quite literally, inhaled by the foul guards of Azkaban. The Dementors didn’t even stop as they divided themselves into two groups; one went straight towards the open rift while the other group spread out to catch the floating souls that were flittering around them. 

“Neat.” Beasten muttered as Harry landed beside him with a soft crunch of the cracked asphalt.

The innovator smiled, “I had kept this as my Plan B.” He shrugged, “After all, there’s no better way to destroy a soul than a Dementor who enjoys feasting on it.” 

“I am more surprised how you even got the time to get these mongers on-board,” The silver-haired Guildmaster frowned, “Shouldn’t you be fighting Riddle right now?” 

“That coward ran away when he realized he couldn’t win the war head-on.” Harry raised his hand to stop Beasten. “Don’t worry, this was the last checkpoint. I already know how to find him, and then I’ll finish him off as soon as I can. Just need to make sure that Alan has a hand in killing that dumb cunt.”

“Your brother?” He frowned. “What’s he got to do with it?”

“There’s another bloody prophecy, and this one binds my brother and Riddle; it states that ‘either must die at the hand of the other,’ so he’s kind of needed to finish off no-nose once and for all.”

“So…ignoring the fact that in all of our Death Eater raids we never got our hands around Riddle's throat, what would you have done if we actually did?” He asked. “Take him to your brother to kill?”

“That was the plan, yes, but I don’t think that would work anymore.” Harry nodded. “It’s also why I cannot use the divine weapons directly against Tom because no one knows what would happen.”

“Let me guess…he would die?” Beasten glared at Harry, sarcasm dripping from his words. 

“Or his soul would be freed again because the prophecy wasn’t fulfilled, and we would not be able to kill Tom at all.” The innovator shook his head. “I know it sounds stupid, and I usually do not put my trust in the ramblings of old cunts, but look around yourself, Beasten. This prophecy of destruction, army of damnation, the working of all the Guilds….everything around you was stated by someone more than eight centuries ago, and yet it’s happening right now.” He shrugged. “Curse me all you want, but I didn’t want to risk it all on another ‘what-if’ if one ‘what-if’ was already in progress.” 

Beasten took a few moments before he nodded. “I don’t understand much of the planning stuff,” he sighed. “T’was never my job, you know?” he shrugged. “But I do understand what you mean.” The man turned to look at the crevice, which was slowly being approached by the Dementors. “I’ll do what I do best—keep on butchering anyone who was foolish enough to get possessed by one of those damned souls; you, on the other hand, finish off Riddle so that we could all go back to being pompous arseholes.”

“You couldn’t be that even if you tried.”

“Yeah, well, hunting monsters is still better than killing humans who don’t even know what happened.” He looked back at Harry and gave a toothy grin. “Come out of this alive, Potter, and I just might take you with me on a hunting trip.’

The innovator shook his head as he got ready to apparate. “After this, I think I’ll take a long break from hunting of any sort.”

“A pity.” Beasten grinned as he shook hands with Harry. “I’d have loved to see you go toe-to-toe with a dragon once more.”

“Maybe some other time.” 

And with that the emerald-eyed mage vanished with an almost silent ‘pop’ leaving the transformed Guildmaster in the pool of red blood and rotting corpses, who raised his arm and fired a red jet of light to signal his team that the area was cleared and that they should come in now to check on anything that’s left.

⁂

The clacking of boots roused him from his slumber, or was it unconsciousness? He didn’t know the difference anymore. Many times it was the latter rather than the former, and the reason was either of the three: Torture, Hunger or Harry Potter.

Neither of the options was preferable, and yet, if asked, he would gladly choose the first two rather than the monster that was presented as the third option. Some might ask, foolishly, of course, as to why Potter and Torture were different when both meant the same to a degraded and filthy prisoner like him?

Well, the answer would be simple: Torture was a session with Sirius Black or Dobby; it was a small time in which they used their methods to extract information from him, while Potter, on the other hand, was a different matter altogether. 

Whatever the boy did wasn’t torture, no. Torture was a small word for the acts of cruelty that Potter put him through. The boy used his imagination to do unthinkable things to him, things that not even a former Death Eater like him could stomach on even something as filthy as a muggle. 

It was in those moments why he was reminded that the young boy—just one year older than his own son—was called an ‘innovator,’ and those were the moments when he was cruelly reminded that the imagination of a vengeful innovator could be quite bloody and painful for the victim.

The regular tapping of the boots stopped, and he opened his remaining eye to look at the blurry image of two dirty boots in his field of vision; his eye trailed up, and he winced when he noticed the glinting emerald pools behind the bloodied iron bars—was that his blood? Probably. 

“I would have loved to spend some time with you, Lucius, but there are more important matters.” The monster muttered, “All I have is just a single question, and I want you to answer it as truthfully as you could, alright?”

Lucius, yes, that was his name, wasn’t it? Lucius Malfoy. The…Lord? Yes, Lord of the Most Noble House of Malfoy, and he had been a prisoner of Harry Potter for about….about…about……..he couldn’t remember the last time he had been fortunate enough to see the sun or drink water or—

The iron bars were banged, and Lucius trembled, shaking like a leaf as he pulled himself into the dark corner of the cell. The monster was getting angry; the monster wanted answers, and he had none. He didn’t have anything for anyone anymore.

“Are you going to tell me the address to the headquarters, Lucius?” 

The same question again. He had already denied it for months now...MONTHS! And yet everyone asked the same damn question repeatedly. Well, if their question hadn’t changed, his answer hadn’t either. 

“N..n…..” he shook his head in the negative; it was much easier than to speak the word anyway.

“Hmmm.” Harry hummed and saw the Malfoy Lord close his eyes and cover himself with his hands as if readying himself for a beating. Well, he wasn’t here for that, was he? There was something else that demanded his attention, and that’s why he was here.

“Alright.” He said and went towards the other cell where he had placed a white screen that had been used to show Lucius the death of his heir, Draco. The screen had been placed here because there wasn’t any need for it till now, but now he needed it once more. 

“Hello, Lucius.” The innovator called out, “You would have been bored here, right?” He asked as the showball was switched on. “Well, I have something for you. Watch it.” And with that he connected the showball to the latest marker he had activated.

The last marker, which was actually a small green dart of his magic, had been shot at Voldemort during his guised attempt with the killing curse. The little green dart had been inconspicuous enough under the bright color of the unforgivable and had seamlessly entered Voldemort’s arm, marking him with his showball.

That small thing was the reason why Tom Riddle just couldn’t hide anywhere on the planet.

True to his plans, the marker immediately connected with the Showball, and Harry’s eyes widened in surprise when instead of some mysterious mountain or lake or even a forest, the screen showed him the battlefield of Hogwarts. 

The old castle was the last place he expected Voldemort to be considering the fact that the man was supposed to be running away from defenders and divine weapons, not towards them, and yet despite normal intelligence, Harry could clearly see the rotting and possessed figure of the Dark Lord fighting with a horde of centaurs, waving his fancy new staff in a wide arc to grow wild vines to hold off the half-horses before mercilessly blasting them to smithereens with an overpowered Bombarding hex. 

“Well, that answers the million galleon question.” Harry mumbled before he looked back to see his prisoner watching the screen with wide eyes. “Watch carefully, Lucius; after him, I’ll come for you.”

The frail and dirty form of the formerly proud man grunted and grumbled in the filth of the cell. Sometimes this pained him, watching the prideful man begging for death, but then he would remember the years he had spent under the tender care of the guards of the Morte tower, and that would strengthen his resolve once more. 

“Today might be your lucky day, Malfoy.” He said as he walked away from the screen and towards the stairs. “I might just grant you your wish and kill you in a few hours.” 

⁂

A soft pop announced Harry’s arrival in the torn and burning maze that had been turned into a portkey zone for the third task of the tournament. The young innovator looked through the burning holes before he cloaked himself with the powers from the third hallow and then shot up into the sky to take a clearer, bird’s-eye view of the situation.

What he saw made him grind his teeth in anger as he looked down at the bloodied battlefield. Voldemort had been correct; Hogwarts had indeed been under a solid attack, and if not for the defenders, they might as well have said goodbye to the ancient castle. 

The entire battlefield had spread out from just the grounds to the village of Hogsmeade, and the entire area inside and around the castle was nothing more than a bloodied mess of torn limbs and charred corpses, some of which were still burning. 

The first thing that he noticed was the arms of the giant squid near the lake, probably chopped off when the big guy was protecting Hogwarts from the lake alongside the mermen whose heads and limbs were thrown haphazardly around the large waterbody.

Then there were the centaurs; the half-horse stargazers of the forbidden forest had fallen to Riddle’s hex, which he had witnessed through the showball. 

The Hogwarts professors weren’t faring well, as he could clearly see the Transfiguration mistress casting furiously with a single arm, her other limb nothing more than a bloodied stump. She was joined by the diminutive charms master, who was flinging curses at Bellatrix, his beard charred from the middle and covered with soot all over his once jolly face. 

Sprout, Snape, and Sinistra couldn’t be seen, and the safest presumption would be that the three had perished while trying to protect the students. He couldn’t see Poppy either, but he assumed that the matron was either in the hospital wing or somewhere inside the castle, working her level best to heal as many of the fighters as she could before they left the living. 

Most of all, he was shocked to see the headmaster’s body that had been placed alongside his brother Aberforth’s near the entrance of the castle. The two Dumbledores probably took down a quarter of the army themselves before going down like martyrs.

That was quite a shock because he might not like the old man’s ways, and he certainly didn’t like him in the beginning, but that didn’t mean he wanted the man dead. The man was a fool for playing with fate, but he still had good intentions and was obviously a powerful wizard who had done everything he could to stop the ongoing night from happening.

He could clearly see a few more like Shacklebolt, Tonks, and Viktor Krum, who were engaged in a heated fight with a horde of Acromantulas, while Sirius and Bill Weasley were trading curses with Carrow siblings, who stood beside a clearly dead Selwyn.

It wasn’t just the light side; the dark had suffered quite a lot as well. Harry took note of the lack of prominent Death Eaters like Jugson, Rowle, Dolohov, and Avery. There were a few like Macnair and the LeStrange brothers who were on their last breaths and would give up soon enough. 

A diffindo from Moody’s gnarled staff took off Yaxley’s head, leading to the fall of about fifteen inferi who were probably under his command. All the while, the veteran auror immediately dashed towards Rookwood, who had just finished blasting a group of seventh-year Claws. 

Few would be able to survive a blast like that. 

The innovator’s attention was then pulled by a war cry that came from a small horde of trolls who had managed to reach the entrance of the castle, blustering and bumbling through the crowd with their commander, Mulciber, at the forefront. He was about to drop down from his vantage point and obliterate the lumbering overgrown troglodytes when all of a sudden the ground beneath them turned to ice and the entire horde was pushed about thirty feet away.

Within a few seconds the protectors too walked out of the castle’s gates, and he was shocked to witness the most unbelievable sight throughout the battle: An army of house elves, led by none other than his brother, Alandale Potter. 

The group of almost fifty squeaky midgets screamed in unison as they kept on pushing away the Trolls while their leader, Alan, threw spells at Mulciber, who had immediately regained his bearings and was slowly pushing back against the combined might of the boy-who-lived and the Hogwarts elf army. 

“That…is certainly a unique way to use your charm with the elves, Alan.” Harry mumbled, a bit proudly, at the way his brother would have used his fame of being the boy-who-lived with the little creatures who adored him to the tee. “Even I wouldn’t have thought of something like that. Good job, brother.” 

His eyes once again scanned the field, and he noted that the students, parents, and the Aurors as well as Hitwizards who had perished were far more numerous than he would like to count. There were a few notable ones among the pile, like Lord Greengrass, whose left side had been burned, and there was a large gaping hole where his heart should have been. 

The man probably died protecting his family because he couldn’t see the rest of the Greengrass family anywhere, which meant they were either inside the castle or dead and their bodies destroyed to pieces. 

Hopefully it was the former. He would have left to check on his girlfriend Daphne, but the longer Riddle lived, the harder it would be for the rest of them.

Speaking of that foul creature, Harry easily spotted the rotten thing going toe-to-toe against the third divine weapon, fiercely using his magic to both protect his army and destroy the weapon. The latter was, obviously, impossible to do.

‘Well, it’s time to end it all, Tom.’ Harry thought as he shot in the direction of his brother’s group that was fighting Mulciber and the trolls. “Lumos Maxima-Fulgur Tellum!”

The lumos was thrown in Mulciber’s face as fifteen arrows made of pure lightning shot from his wand down on the blinded man and his band of grumbling trolls, who screamed in agony.

“HARRY!” Alan exclaimed, a grin blossoming on his tired face, “You're back!” The redhead looked around himself so that he could pinpoint Harry’s location as the elder Potter was still invisible to everyone on the battlefield.

“Is it that obvious?” The innovator asked, sarcastically, before he grasped Alan’s hand. “Let the elves handle this, little brother. We have a much bigger task to do.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Alan asked, “Weren’t you going to locate Voldemort and end him?”

“Tom’s in Hogsmeade, and we have to kill him together.” 

“Together? Can’t you do it on your own?”

“No. I gave it some thought, and I think I’ll need you to be there with me to kill that wanker.” Harry sighed at the confused frown on his brother’s face. “Remember when a piece of Tom’s soul was inside your scar? And you defeated him, expelling that soul from your body so that you could gain complete control over yourself?”

Alan remembered that part quite well, how Riddle had used his body to fight Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, and then how he had fought against the corrupt soul in his own mindscape with a battle of memories.

“What about it?”

“Right now, Tom’s body is in a similar situation, and no one knows what will happen if you kill him once. If it’s Voldemort’s soul, then everything will stop, but if it’s the other one, then Tom will regain control of his body and then bind with the expelled soul once more.”

It took him a few seconds before Alan realized what his brother was going on about, and when he did, his eyes went saucer wide. “WAIT-WAIT! Does that mean Voldemort is immortal again?! WHAT THE FU—”

“Currently, yes. Because the other soul will try to protect Voldemort’s original soul and then bind with him every time he’s expelled from the body.” Harry nodded.

“Oh man!!” He groaned. “To think we’d go from making him mortal again to making him immortal once more…What the hell!!” 

“The thing is, neither Tom nor the other one knows that this is possible, which means we could use this to our advantage.” Harry smirked. “And to do that, we’d have to take one soul straight to Death while killing the other one within the next moment.” 

“You mean to say…” Alan frowned a bit as he tried to understand his brother’s words, “We have to destroy both of them at the same time?” 

“Kind of, yes.” The innovator nodded, “But the rifts are open, so just killing the other one would not do it, as there’s nothing that’s stopping him from escaping the realm of Death.”

“What then?” 

“Well…..”

⁂

“BOMBARDA MAXIMA!!” 

There was a loud ‘BOOM’ as the bombarding curse hit the place where Voldemort had been just a moment ago before he apparated away. The dark lord reappeared a few steps away from the dust cloud and turned to look at the sudden arrival.

“Alandale Potter,” he whispered, a small smile stretching over his face, “The boy-who-lived….” The Dark Lord threw another blast of water at Aatank before he shielded himself in a golden dome of pure magic. 

“Tom Riddle, the stupidest Dark Lord ever.” Alan threw back and watched the grin on his enemy’s face lessen a bit. “You have been quite the nuisance, and I think you have overstayed your welcome.”

“Overstayed my welcome?” Tom smiled, “I wonder where this newfound confidence is coming from?” He raised his staff to block Aatank’s attack, flinging it back at the weapon. “You aren’t your brother, little Potter; a mere insect like you has never been a threat to me.”

“That’s not what you thought the night you came to kill me, Riddle.” The redhead grinned again. “Your stupidity is what brought us here, but that’s as far as your time goes. Soon enough you’ll be dead, and your little army will be running away to save their sorry arses.”

The Dark Lord shook his head; he waved his staff in a wide arc, creating a large wall of granite that took on Aatank’s blast before he focused on Alan. “Look around yourself, Potter.” He whispered loudly, “You, your friends, and everyone else shall die tonight. Dumbledore…that old fool died taking down a few giants and a horde of werewolves with him, but now he’s gone, and with him gone, the rest of your forces are already crumbling. There’s no one to stop us anymore.”

To his surprise, instead of cursing him like he expected, Alan started to laugh loudly, “Damn. Harry was right; you do talk a lot of nonsense.” The redhead shook his head and pointed his wand at Riddle. “Let’s end this.” The boy threw a flame whip, subtly using the Ventus charm to elongate the barbed fire, which Tom dodged by apparating away.

“Serpensortia!” Voldemort launched an anaconda, swiftly giving it the orders to kill Alan while his attention was pulled back by Aatank, who launched another one of his lava blasts, “Mors Sagittis.” 

Alan cursed his fate at that moment; if only he still had his skills with Parseltongue, this wouldn’t have been an issue. Unfortunately, after he destroyed Tom’s soul, he lost his ability to converse with the serpentine creatures, which meant that he would have to fight with the big snake the old way. 

He flicked his wand, conjuring ten dogs, “Mutare Mortus-Depulso.” He flicked at the snarling beasts, pushing his mutated creations towards the large snake while he himself conjured a huge stone, which he dropped over the snake’s head. 

“THOMAS! THOMAS!!” Herpo urged from the mindscape, “Don’t get too confident of it. I know a ploy when I see one, and this is certainly the work of that apprentice.”

‘I know that too, but I cannot see him anywhere,’ Voldemort thought as he threw water on Alan before turning it to acid. ‘I can’t even sense his magic anywhere around me, and his magic is too strong to be hidden like a normal wizard.’

“I am trying to locate the man myself; there isn’t a single thing in this chaos that is out of order, and yet I know that the apprentice is near us.” Herpo grunted, spreading his senses around himself to sense Harry’s iconic magic. “Otherwise this little boy wouldn’t be so assured of his victory.”

‘It is also quite possible that Harry Potter sent his brother here and went to fight the army of souls himself,’ the Dark Lord could feel Herpo’s soul getting agitated. ‘Nonetheless, you keep trying to locate our friend and inform me when to leave the grounds; meanwhile, I’ll carve his brother here to give him a nice surprise when he finally shows up.’

Soon enough, spells flung between the two mages as Voldemort fought both the third weapon of destruction and Alan Potter at the same time while the redhead tried his best to time his attacks with that of the weapon to take out their enemy as soon as possible. 

The ground was pulled out, and the winds turned hot with the spells that traversed between the two men, each deadlier than the one that crossed before. Everything from organ expellers and cutting curses to rotting curses and metal chains from the planet’s womb was used by the men to take out the other one, with neither of them succeeding.

All of a sudden everyone around the duo stopped their battles and searched for the cause of the suppressing magic that they had just felt. They knew that someone had just cast a few anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards, but they had no idea as to whether the person was on their side or the enemy’s.

There was one man who immediately understood something was amiss, especially when he saw the grin that blossomed on the boy-who-lived’s face. This was definitely the work of Harry Potter; that guy was trapping him so that he couldn’t retreat back anymore.

“THOMAS! HE’S HERE! IT IS HERE!” Herpo screamed in his mindscape. “OH NO! OH NO!! IT’S HERE!!!”

“I know that, Herpo!” Tom snarled, “I have to move away now. Start breaking the ward or locate its boundary.” Voldemort asked as he threw killing curses at Alan, who blocked them with a flock of birds before pushing them back.

“Nononononono…..you don’t understand!! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, THOMAS!!” The former Dark Lord screamed. “It is NOT the ward that I am afraid of…..it is something much worse…” 

“What?”

But there was no sound. Herpo could still be felt, but the soul wasn’t speaking anymore; he was just shivering in the Riddle’s mindscape.

“WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF?!” 

“That would be me.” Harry said as he removed the third hallow’s power, “Hello, Herpo, son of Hyapetus.” The young man’s voice changed as his eyes turned completely black. “Time to say goodbye to the mortal world.” 

“NO! NO! DON’T DO THIS!” The ancient wizard screamed as he tried his best to hide in Voldemort’s mindscape. “Yo-You’re lying! You cannot come here! The world would fracture if you arrived! There’s nothing that could sustain the weight of an entity like you!” 

Harry just smiled as veins, the color of pure charcoal, spread throughout his body, and his hair started to sway in an unstoppable wind of its own. “You were always a lost cause…” The innovator mumbled in a distorted voice before he closed his eyes and released a black force from inside his mind that sent chills down everyone’s spine. 

“NO NONO NONONOOOO!! DO SOMETHING, THOMAS! THOMAS, RUN! RUN AWAY!!” The creator of Horcruxes could only watch in a mortified manner as the Death—the divine entity of all ends—manifested itself around the innovator as a translucent projection. 

“What…the…fuck…” Alan mumbled as he, along with everyone else, looked at the projection of Death that had come out of his brother. “What even are you, Harry?” 

Everyone was frozen to their core as they could feel their life force being absorbed by the manifested form of Death itself. The chilling sensation that had started from their hearts had quickly spread around their entire body, forcing them to stand still even when they wanted nothing more than to run as far away from the nightmare in front of their eyes.

This was not just a simple war anymore. No. It had stopped being simple with the arrival of the divine weapon, but now? Now every single one of the attackers knew that this was not a war they could’ve ever won. 

Even the divine weapon of destruction bowed when it saw the god of all ends and decided to shift its focus on other enemies that were still breathing.

Dumbledore had been a huge threat to their existence, but he had been human. He didn’t fight with universal weapons capable of mass destruction, and he certainly never summoned Death itself. Dumbledore had been human, and therefore he was an enemy that they had been able to defeat. 

Harry Potter, on the other hand, was a different level of monster. One that they could never defeat even in their wildest dreams.

The entity turned its head to look at Alan. “Break his bond with the living after I have pulled the other one.” 

Voldemort saw what was happening, and he easily understood that his end was near, but that didn’t mean he would go down without a fight. No. He knew the prophecy; the only one to kill him was Alandale Potter, the boy who had been marked by him to be his equal. 

Even now, Death wasn't killing him; the god was pulling out Herpo’s soul and was asking the redhead to kill him when that was done. Which meant that even a god like Death was bound by the words of fate, right? RIGHT! And what had Herpo said back when they had met? That the accomplishment of both of their dreams depended on his survival. 

Well, that just means he has to kill Alan and run away from here till Harry Potter loses his powers. Then he would return to kill the elder one as well, and there would be absolutely no way to ever stop him after that.

Tom shot up into the sky, flying as far away from the manifestation of Death as he could while his staff blurred, shooting spells at his enemy, who was countering them with renewed vigor. The Dark Lord saw Death’s arm reach for him as he kept on flying away from the entity.

Unfortunately a mortal, no matter how powerful he was, could never escape a god.

Herpo screamed in agony as the translucent black projection of an arm pierced through Voldemort’s body. The Dark Lord himself felt the cold claws wrap around the ancient wizard’s soul, and he could do nothing but scream in pain as Death began to pull the soul out of him.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!!” He used his iconic spell once more in an attempt to end his nemesis, only for the boy to dodge the curse and shoot a blasting hex at him. He was about to shield himself from the ignorable spell, but at that moment Herpo’s soul was brutally ripped out of him only to be immediately pulled back inside the entity.

The Dark Lord grunted as he raised his staff once more, only for the curse to connect with his torso. 

It was as if everything around him came to a standstill. Nothing moved. He could feel the magic of the curse course through his torso as he looked down at the smiling face of Alandale Potter and the smirking face of Harry Potter as Death ingested the soul of the creator of Basilisks. 

“Po-Potter, you….” It was the last thing Tom could utter before a soul-chilling scream tore from the depths of his very being as the curse tore his torso into a million pieces. Chunks of his rotting torso and black blood rained down from the skies above them as everyone witnessed his death. 

It took them a few seconds to register it, but soon enough the defenders of Hogwarts screamed in joy as they finally realized that after all these years, the Dark Lord, also known as Lord Voldemort, was no more. The rotten creature was dead, and there was nothing that could ever bring him back again.

Almost immediately, the seven rifts that had opened all around the world over the seven continents closed, and the constant invasion of the army of damnation stopped within a moment. Everyone looked up into the sky only to find no signs of the rifts ever being there in the first place as the skies started to heal once more. 

The seven guilds and their Guildmasters who had been fighting the damned souls to protect the citizens, breathed a sigh of relief as they knew what the sudden disappearance of the rifts meant. The Potter brothers had won; they had killed Tom Riddle and had prevented the natural balance from toppling and the world from destruction at the hands of the tortured souls. 

Everything was soon going to be back to normal once more.

While the entire world was rejoicing at the closure of the rifts, and the defenders were pushing back against the remains of Voldemort’s army that was running away, a certain emerald-eyed titan of magic felt the powers of Death pass out from him. The black veins disappeared from his torso as darkness crawled over his vision.

The manifestation of Death vanished from earth, and the young man fell unceremoniously on the ground with a loud ‘thump.’

“HARRY!!” Alan screamed as he rushed to check on his elder brother. The young boy knelt beside the innovator and held his wrist, trying to get a feel of the pulse before he checked whether his brother was breathing or not.

His eyes widened in shock when he realized what had happened, tears forming in his chocolate browns as he screamed without abandon.

There was no pulse. There was no heart beating in his chest, and there was no air that was circulating through his body.

Everything inside the innovator had stopped.

Harry Potter was no more.

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Ending Note: DUN DUN DUNNNNN!!!!! What the hell just happened?! Did Harry summon Death itself? YES! Did the Potters kill Voldemort?! HELL YES!! DID HARRY POTTER DIE?! ......maybe? Or Maybe not! If not, then where is Harry Potter?!

STAY TUNED. LAST CHAPTER OF INNOVATOR COMING OUT NEXT WEEK!!

Sorry for being late but I am back again. New chapters, new stories and many more new things are coming once more.

Stay Tuned to get them all!!

I am waiting for all your comments. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.


Thank you once again,

With regards,
Dev Black