At Hogwarts, the story begins with deconstructing Avada Kedavra.

Friday afternoon,

The Transfiguration Professor's Office.

The fire in the fireplace flickered with warmth, and the air was filled with the aroma of Scottish shortbread and black tea. But the cozy atmosphere failed to soothe the anxiety.

This is Professor McGonagall's Advanced Transfiguration Study Group. Aside from Lucian, the odd one out and a first-year student, everyone else here is at least a fifth-year student with an OWLS certificate of excellence, and there are even two seventh-year prefects.

"On the nature of the Evanesco spell."

Professor McGonagall looked around at everyone. "When we make a snail disappear, where does it go, Mr. Prewitt?"

The seventh-year Gryffindor prefect straightened his back instinctively: "It has entered a state of 'non-existence,' Professor. All things return to nothingness."

"A standard textbook answer, safe, but mediocre." Professor McGonagall remained noncommittal, turning to Lucian, who was holding a teacup in the corner. "Mr. Ashford, I've heard you have unique insights into the perpetuation of matter?"

All attention was focused on this first-year student, with curiosity, but even more so with scrutiny.

Lucien set down his teacup, the porcelain clinking against the tray. He did not answer directly.

He drew his wand and gently tapped the lid of the teapot on the table.

"Evanesco (disappeared without a trace)."

The teapot lid vanished instantly from the tip of his wand.

"It did not vanish into nothingness."

"If it is complete nothingness, then this 'existence' itself is erased out of thin air, which would violate the fundamental law of the conservation of magic."

So, it was simply deconstructed.

He waved his wand, and the phantoms of the teapot lid appeared one after another, resembling a sphere with its original position as the origin.

"I severed the laws that maintain its form, temporarily folding its concept of existence into the gap between reality and illusion, while its substance transformed into... in Muggle terms, a probability cloud."

Looking at the stunned senior students, Lucian added, "The so-called disappearance is merely a limitation of our mortal eyes. For this world, it has always existed, only in a more chaotic form."

"This...this is impossible!" Pwitt's face flushed red. "This form has never been recorded before!"

"Because most wizards only see magic as a magic lamp for making wishes, rather than a tool for understanding and trying to change reality."

Lucian stood up and gave a slight bow to the thoughtful Professor McGonagall, his manners impeccable: "Thank you for the tea, Professor. Excuse me."

The office door was closed gently.

After a long while, Professor McGonagall finally came to her senses and sighed very softly, "Perhaps we are the prisoners who have trapped ourselves in the cage of common sense."

……

Lucian didn't linger for a moment after leaving Professor McGonagall's office. He could feel the increasingly agitated pounding of the monster within him.

His discussion with the professor gave him a sudden realization, and also caused cracks to appear in the seal that had been suppressing him.

He had to return to the House of Requirement immediately to complete his long-planned, life-or-death scheme.

He strode across the corridor to the tapestry of the giant stick beating Barnabas, where a door appeared on the wall.

Lucian sat cross-legged on the stone bricks.

Place your hands together over your lower abdomen, the point where magical power converges.

He removed all the shackles.

The roar exploded deep within his soul.

The long-suppressed Oblivion, that parasitic monster born from the hybrid of despair and magic, took over his body.

Black, oily magic surged wildly from his seven orifices and pores, instantly enveloping him into a pulsating, ominous, jet-black cocoon.

This is a form of torture that can grind even the soul to pieces.

Lucian’s consciousness teetered in the eye of the raging storm, but he remained clear-headed.

He channeled the gray magic he had cultivated, following the erratic, violent rotation of the silent flames.

Begin guiding and accelerating.

Until it transforms into a chaotic storm that tears everything apart.

Differentiation has begun.

The most violent and vile negative emotions, such as fear, anger, and hatred, are banished;

The purest source of magic was forcibly squeezed to the center.

"Strip!"

Lucian gritted his teeth and growled.

In that instant when extreme pain and extreme clarity intertwined, his mental vision suddenly expanded, transcending the constraints of the body and beyond this secret room.

He saw the shape of time.

Time is a vast, surging river, bound by invisible channels.

Within the river, countless faint golden threads are interwoven, representing cause and effect, destiny, and a script already written by this world.

They extend from the distant past, firmly locking onto every "present" in the flow, and pointing to a "future" that is almost certain.

"So that's how it is... This is the embodiment of 'fate'?"

If he has any understanding

"The way of Heaven is to take from those who have more and give to those who have less. The so-called will of the world is to pull all variables that try to deviate from the course back onto these golden tracks."

"combine!"

As the last impurity was removed, the raging, silent energy within the body finally collapsed under the heavy hammer of will, transforming into a deep, heavy, and earth-stable gray fluid that flowed slowly into the dantian along the meridians.

"Internal alchemy, Small Heavenly Circuit, accomplished."

Deep within his dantian, the ferocious monster vanished.

Instead, there was a magical vortex the size of a marble.

It rotates slowly, and with each rotation it seems to breathe, inhaling and exhaling the surrounding free-floating energy.

Lucian opened his eyes, and a dazzling light shimmered around him.

If he so chooses, he can unleash terrifying power capable of suppressing an adult fire dragon.

Destruction was tamed by him and became part of his body.

But Lucian discovered that,

With each cycle of magic, the golden threads gently and relentlessly try to entwine around him and become one with him.

Even more surprisingly, some "intuitions" that weren't his own began to surface in his mind:

"Should I go and save Hermione Granger? It seems like the right thing to do."

"Perhaps I should showcase my talent now to gain Dumbledore's attention."

In that instant, Lucien felt a chill run down his spine.

This world is assimilating him.

It gave Lucian power, but tried to take away his sense of self. It wanted to forcibly twist this variable back to the predetermined script, making him either a stepping stone on the road to savior or another pitiful villain killed off by the plot.

"Excellent tactic, truly excellent tactic..."

Lucian said in a low voice, "This is arsenic coated in sugar. If I comply, I will be a puppet of this world; if I resist, I will be an enemy of the whole world."

As he was lost in thought, a sudden change occurred.

Reality begins to become transparent and overlapping.

He saw another version of himself in the Room of Requirement being devoured by the Obscurus, turning into a mindless monster, which was eventually killed by Dumbledore who arrived in time.

Then, the screen flashed.

He caught a glimpse of Voldemort gently stroking a giant python, which seemed to sense his gaze and suddenly looked up at him.

Then all of this vanished without a trace.

He suddenly realized that if he could solidify this state, perhaps one day he could use this power to temporarily break away from the established riverbed and touch those adjacent parallel timelines!

……

In the dead of night, a fierce wind howled.

On the pheasant-shaped tower of Ravenclaw, a figure stood at the edge of the abyss. The fierce wind tugged at his robes, trying to drag him into the Black Lake, but he remained unmoved.

If anyone were to look up at this moment, they would glimpse a horrifying scene.

Lucian did not step on the stone bricks; supporting him was a pair of phantom wings, entirely composed of gray magic, slowly unfolding behind him.

Lucian extended his hand, palm up.

A vortex of magic floated in his palm, and the surrounding space even rippled slightly.

If one could see destiny, one would find that the golden threads that had been trying to bind him were being broken one by one by this gray power, yet they kept clinging back to him.

Hundreds of feet above the ground, he looked down at the brightly lit Hogwarts.

Following these golden threads, he seemed to see the monstrous creature stirring within, Quirrell plotting to steal the Philosopher's Stone, and the savior about to face a turning point in his destiny...

Everything unfolded like a game of chess.

"Then, next, it's time to slightly modify a few footnotes in this predetermined drama according to my will."

As for what Harry saw earlier, it might just be one of countless possibilities.

"In a world where all beings have a destiny..." Lucien clenched his fist, and the black singularity transformed into a stream of light that entered his palm. His wings suddenly flapped, creating a burst of air currents.

"I am the only variable."