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HP: Bloodraven Chapter 261 - War (II)
🕑 Added 2025-10-15 12:32:53 +0000 UTCLondon.
“How is it that none of our governments or newspapers are reporting this?”
Inside the Grangers’ residence, Mrs. Granger asked her daughter in disbelief as they sat together on the sofa in their living room, watching the magical vision broadcasting live the events unfolding in a remote desert in China.
“Your mom’s right, honey,” Mr. Granger also agreed with his wife, lightly shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, it all looks more like an action movie to us than actual live news…”
Saying as much, the couple looked to their daughter, silently expecting her explanation. Despite being grown-ups, they both knew their daughter—a literal witch—was the authority on all things extraordinary in the house.
“As much as I want this to be some kind of fiction, it can’t possibly be made up,” Hermione said after a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. “We saw muggle world leaders also gathered in some conference yesterday, discussing countermeasures…”
Isabella’s broadcast had indeed been running continuously since the conference began yesterday, and by now practically the entire magical world—from wizarding homes and inns to public stations and magical governments alike—was focused on the matter.
“Besides,” Hermione continued, her eyes fixed on the screen with worry clear in her expression. “it’s not that none of our governments are reporting it—they’re clearly trying to hide it. Just think about it: nearly every major news outlet is saying that the armies and police forces of every country are on high alert. That can’t possibly be a coincidence.”
At her words, the couple’s eyes darted from the magical vision showing Isabella’s broadcast to the television screen, where BBC Breaking News was airing a live report.
“…Although the military insists this is only a practice drill, questions remain as to why nearly every major country is reporting simultaneous troop movements. Our correspondents in the United States confirm similar exercises there, with the army, navy, and even local police all on high alert.
BBC has attempted multiple times to contact the Royal Family, but so far, no official statement has been released by the British Government…”
Across London, and even the entire globe, similar conversations were unfolding in muggle households with witches or wizards among their children. Some met the news with skepticism, but most did not deny the reality unfolding before them, no matter how unbelievable or sudden it seemed.
Whereas the muggle world remained secretive, the magical communities offered full transparency—even when local newspapers sought confirmation directly from magical governments, their reports were verified without question.
The world was indeed facing an unprecedented threat from beyond—extraterrestrial life was real, and perhaps for the first time in modern history, the combined forces of the planet’s mightiest—whether individuals or entire armies— were coming together to confront a danger the likes of which had never been seen before.
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“...Remember, as soon as their formation collapses, hit them with everything you’ve got...”
Back where the chaos was about to break loose, Edward Garling issued the final instructions to those around him—mages, mutants, and muggles alike—while behind him, the swarm of assault units drew closer like a gathering storm.
It was Olympe Maxime’s idea, and truth be told, it wasn’t a bad one—certainly more practical than the straightforward head-on assault first on the table. Because even for archmages, taking down six hundred single-pilot ships would take time—and factoring in their firepower and maneuverability, even more so.
The idea was, basically, to kill their coordination and turn the swarm into headless flies, so that even if they had the numbers, the powerhouses from Earth could overwhelm them easily without having to worry about their cohesion.
“It’s best to keep a certain distance from us,” Dumbledore said after Edward, his gaze briefly sweeping the swarm beyond. Casting a sideways glance at Ororo, he added, “Young lady, advise your friends to fall back as well. What’s about to happen… we can control only so much, and I cannot guarantee it won’t affect anyone too close.”
Maverick nodded in agreement and gave the same advice. “Ask Mr. Hank to move the X-Jet back at least a kilometer.”
Meanwhile, inside the X-Jet, Hank let out a long breath he didn’t even realize he was holding as soon as he heard Maverick’s order. In fact, his hands had already pulled the controls, and the Blackbird was already banking sharply, turning back.
Only after seeing it up close did they fully grasp the scale of what they were up against. The attacks hadn’t even begun, yet the sight alone was enough to break a calm resolve—cold sweat had already formed on all three of their foreheads aboard the X-Jet.
Fifty titanic Kree imperial cruisers loomed above, blotting out the sun like a storm, and beyond them, six hundred individual attack pods, each roughly the size of their own jet. How—or even if—they could contribute against such a force, they had no idea.
Fortunately, they had a literal AoE on their side, and she was with the wizards outside. At least her presence would serve as the mutants’ contribution, they all thought.
"What about me then?” Ororo’s brow twitched as she turned back to Maverick, watching the Blackbird pull away the instant he mentioned they should fall back.
"Back up with the rest..."
While saying, Maverick’s gaze then swept over the witches and wizards on their brooms and settled on McGonagall. Better to keep her where someone could watch over her, he thought. Her ability to generate literal storms that pack a lot of power was certainly impressive, but her agility in the air was, unfortunately, not.
"Go with Professor McGonagall," he added, motioning to the stern-looking woman leading the force of great magi. "After we’re done here, be ready to go all out with the rest of them."
There was no time for debate, as the storm overhead was nearly upon them. Ororo moved swiftly to McGonagall and, just as quickly—though with a hint of hesitation—sat behind her without a word. Fortunately, McGonagall was not a difficult woman either; she simply nodded with a brief smile and even, magically secured Ororo in place after she settled.
And with that, everyone fell back—either by apparition or descending rapidly—leaving only the five of them at the front.
The swarm of alien aircraft, each roughly the size of a fighter jet, hurtling together in a coordinated rush of six hundred, was a sight only a few could stomach. They could now even hear the buzz of their engines slicing through the wind, rattling eardrums, a deafening hum like a swarm of enraged bees—only these weren’t insects. They were harbingers of destruction.
“Wait for it…” Edward muttered, narrowing his eyes at the approaching storm. Now, only five of them remained in the immediate front.
They waited.
At the center stood Dumbledore, flanked by Edward and Maxime on either side. Maverick and Takamura took their positions next, all of them poised and motionless, the tension almost visible. From their vantage, it looked as if a thundercloud had formed directly above their heads, pregnant with impending chaos.
“Just a bit more—”
“Now!”
All five of them widened their eyes, their pupils contracting, and then—BOOOM! Like a torrent unleashed, they surged their magic forward in perfect unison.
It is said that when two masters of dominant spirit collide their magic, even the heavens can split. Now, from a single point, five archmages had fused their arrogance into one unstoppable force, unleashing it outward. The broken clouds churned from white to deep darkness in an instant, roiling as if stirred by an invisible, godlike hand.
The heavens did not simply split—they quaked, trembling under a weight that felt like a descending apocalypse. Lightning forked across the sky, illuminating the jagged cloud edges, while thunder roared like the roar of a celestial beast.
The hundreds of Kree air units caught in the wake shuddered violently, engines straining against the invisible pressure. Normally, dominant spirit cannot affect physical matter, but this force was so overwhelming it breached every boundary.
However, the machines were not the true target of the five kings—it was their pilots. To them, it was as if their heads had been plunged ten thousand meters beneath the ocean, their capacity to think reduced to nothing.
Some—those at the very forefront—succumbed instantly, collapsing into unconsciousness as the overwhelming will of the archmages washed over them.
Booom! Boom! Booom! Boom! Booom! Boom! Booom! Boom!
It didn’t take long. One moment, all six hundred aircraft were descending like a calamity, a coordinated calamity, and the next, their formation collapsed on itself. They had been flying too close, shoulder to shoulder in the skies, and when their minds got scrambled, control went out the window.
The fall turned into chaos. Metal wings clipped, tails smashed, engines screamed as they collided, one after another. Like a deadly chain reaction spreading left and right, up and down, explosions rippled across the clouds. Fire rolled over fire, thunder echoing through the heavens.
Booom! Boom! Booom! Boom!
Thunder! Crackle! Thunder! Thunder!
“That’s enough!” Dumbledore said, pulling back his magic, and the rest followed his lead.
The old man’s eyes narrowed. The scene before him looked almost beautiful, like fireworks on new year’s night, except this was pure destruction. He tightened his grip on the Elder Wand. He felt no pity for them. None at all. They weren’t human beings to begin with, and they had come here to destroy their world. The man everyone believed to be soft, sometimes too soft, felt nothing of that sort today.
He turned back, and with a flick of his wand, his voice carried across the battlefield to every witch, wizard, muggle and mutant in their ranks.
Booom! Boom! Booom! Boom!
Crackle! Thunder! Crackle!
Amid the roars of explosions, fire, thunder, and lightning, his voice cut through like a blade of ice, cold yet commanding enough that they felt it in their bones.
“Charge!”
Maxime’s plan had worked perfectly, even better than they had thought it would. The swarm of six hundred had indeed become a horde of headless insects, and now, it was time to harvest.
Comments
QuantumServer
Thanks for the cinema
André Lange
Fucking GOO!!!
