Shocked Dumbledore - 12th Floor Contestants Arrive!!!

Avalon

"We told you this would happen," the Green Seat, the Witch of Endor, said, eying Dumbledore. "With Darcie gaining your timeline's supreme providence, and then what you did… What we helped you do… was bound to cause irreversible changes to your timeline."

Dumbledore recollected his memory of Black using the glove to win the Remembrall and put it in a vial. He eyed the Great Beings who were just shy from being called Immortals.

He didn't trust them. He couldn't afford to trust anyone now.

Yet, he had no choice.

Circe, the Red Seat scoffed. "You should be on your knees, fool," she reprimanded. "You should be thanking us. For you, a being from Mirror Timeline to absorb one from the Pillar… Tch!"

"I am thankful," Albus replied. He truly was.

"Yet, here you are," Circe sneered. "With more questions, no?"

"If the child had used unordinary magic," Dumbledore began, "then I wouldn't have come here.

"If he had used some ancient Artifacts, then also I wouldn't have come here. No. He used the Ancient Magical Script.

"Even I have only glimpsed its shadow. I am not ashamed to mention my ignorance of its nature."

"But you were expecting it, weren't you?" Abdul Alhazred, the Yellow Seat, confirmed.

Dumbledore nodded. "As I said… I have seen its shadow."

"Alright," the Violet Seat, King Solomon, said, putting an end to it. "No need to test him. If he hadn't been capable, Merlin wouldn't have brought him to us.

"As we told you, Albus, irreversible changes are bound to happen to your timeline now. Powers, Magic, and Knowledge. All that had become a myth in your world now stands a chance to return.

"The children remain the most susceptible to it. Moreover, it's just a start. The more the Mirror Timeline progresses toward becoming a Pillar, the more it will raise the timeline's overall state of existence.

"Inevitably, you will become the new Pillar along with your entire world. Unless…"

"Unless someone kills Darcie," Dumbledore said, finishing the Violet Seat's words.

King Solomon nodded solemnly.

"What did the child say?" Hermes, the Orange Seat, asked curiously.

Dumbledore remembered the weird conversation.

"Arlen Black… he said these wobbly characters kept appearing in his mind after… after the Battle of Legends," he told the five. "After many attempts, the boy finally managed to put the character on paper and it exploded. That's how he ended up creating the gloves. He calls them…

"Pound-for-Pound Gloves of Awesomeness…"

"Interesting child," Hermes smiled, breaking the silence.

"Is there an Arlen Black in other timelines?" Circe asked, narrowing her eyes.

They all understood her intention behind the question. "I have already checked," the Yellow Seat answered. "Arlen Black's name is in all Book of Admittances of the timelines."

The Red Seat's shoulder relaxed, but there remained a prickly feeling in her mind.

"What about other students who were there during the Battle?" Circe asked, looking at Albus. "Are they showing any signs of knowing the Script as well?"

Dumbledore looked troubled. "I also had the same doubt," he admitted. "For now, I have put the task of identifying such signs through personal interviews. Hogwarts' new teaching structure already has such provisions."

"The Timeline may have sensed some deviations in the future," the Green Seat added. "That's why it is voluntarily trying to elevate the level of wizards and witches as a precaution."

A chill ran down Albus' spine. "What do you mean?"

Circe scoffed.

King Solomon eyed the child gently. "With opportunities come adversities."

"When a Pillar loses one of its Pillar existence," the Green Seat said, "it gets noticed, Albus. Especially if a Mirror Timeline is getting the benefit of it. We warned you of this. Yet…"

Albus couldn't concentrate on what they had warned him about.

There was a more pressing question ringing in his mind.

"Noticed, you said," Albus whispered, looking at them all. "Noticed by who?"

Slam!

Circe tapped the table, but it roared through the Avalon like an avalanche. "Why not just abandon our dreams and let the Indigo Seat die before someone could sit on it?"

"I…" the Orange Seat hesitated but finished anyway. "I agree with Red Seat. Telling him more will be tantamount to acknowledging him as the Indigo Seat."

The Yellow Seat nodded as well.

"What…" Dumbledore was having a panic attack. Just why these guys weren't telling him everything?

Why must he keep trotting in the dark, trying to save everyone in his world, without knowing everything? Now that he had the power… power beyond control…

Just what topic could make the Six experience hesitation before telling it to him?

The Green Seat and Violet Seat exchanged glances and shook their heads.

Circe's eyes widened. "What? What did you two do?"

"It wasn't us," the Green Seat said. "They contacted us."

"They must be coming anytime now," King Solomon said. "That's why I let Dumbledore come to Avalon at this time. We wanted him to know of their existence."

"You…"Circe gritted out.

Even the Yellow Seat and the Orange Seat looked shaken.

Dumbledore was already lost in the complex web of cryptic talk.

It happened then. Five individuals walked into the Great Chamber, their feet resonating, shaking the colossal walls.

"Dumbledore, meet the…" King Solomon looked at the five beings with the greatest apprehension. "… Contestants."

The five Contestants walked inside the Great Chamber with a swagger.

At the front, there was a voluptuous woman. Six ft tall, wearing a green, slit gown, her silky, black hair danced behind her as he walked. Her eyes, holding a blue tinge, were smiling, it seemed, as she bit her full, cherry-red lips.

Behind her, to her left, was a short man in a high-collared, red overcoat. Only his brown eyes were visible under the windswept, brown hair. As he walked, he kept inching away from them as if he was afraid of getting touched by them.

To the tall woman's right, a step behind, was a man in white, flowing silk-like garments. His long black hair was spilling behind him and his eyes were closed. At his waist, he carried a sword.

The moment Dumbledore's gaze fell on him, his eyes hurt.

It was like getting a paper cut, but there was no blood.

A step behind these three people was a giant.

The giant was at least ten feet tall and half as wide, if not more. His upper body was bare, showcasing a chiseled set of pulsating muscles. He had a bush-like wild, brown hair, his red eyes holding rage.

But neither of these four unnerved Dumbledore as much as the fifth one walking behind them all, in their shadows.

Over black jeans, she was wearing a sleeveless, white t-shirt with a cut showcasing her cleavage. However, the most striking thing about her was that her face was burned. Completely. No eyes. No nose. No mouth. Everything was a jumbled mass of red-brown flesh.

Contrasting this detail, she held a headful of lush, green hair.

Dumbledore's throat died up, a heat seeping into his bones.

Suddenly, the woman at the front stopped a few feet away from Dumbledore. She put her hand on her waist, her long leg slithering out of the cut in her gown.

"Are you the one who's killed a Pillar Dumbledore?" she asked, licking her lips. "… what a naughty boy?"

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