The wind howled through the icy forest as Sarai stood tall, her long silver hair whipping around her sharp, determined face. With a smirk, she stretched out her arms, and massive magical wings of black and silver burst from her back, crackling with power.
She muttered under her breath,
"If my brother's here… he must know about this."
With a powerful flap, she shot into the sky, a streak of energy cutting through the clouds as she flew toward the Lake of Nine.
When she landed at its edge, the frozen ground cracked under her boots. Sarai unsheathed her massive enchanted sword, its glowing runes pulsing with blood-red light, and slammed it into the ice with a loud CRACK.
The water stirred.
Suddenly, the massive serpent, Jörmungandr, rose from the depths, his emerald eyes glowing as he loomed over her, scales glistening like dark mountains.
"Sarai… daughter of Tom Riddle,"
the serpent's voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"You're probably here for—"
"I'm here to find out where my weak, pathetic brother Tom is!"
she snapped, cutting him off, eyes burning with fury.
Jörmungandr chuckled, his enormous body shaking the earth.
"Weak? Ugly? You really think so?"
Sarai crossed her arms proudly.
"Well, I'd suggest you don't get in his way.
He might spare your life if you tell him you're his sister.
If you don't…"
her grin widened coldly,
"there might not even be ashes left of you."
Jörmungandr let out a booming laugh.
"Stop lying to yourself, little girl.
He's no longer the weak baby you remember."
Sarai snarled, slamming her boot into the ice.
"Enough of this nonsense! Just tell me where he is!"
The serpent's massive head dipped closer, eyes glowing.
"He's living in the deep icy forest… living a peaceful life."
Then, with a final chuckle, Jörmungandr sank back beneath the lake, leaving Sarai standing alone in the cold.
Sarai clenched her fists, her magic surging.
"Brother Tom… you will die. That's for sure."
---
Meanwhile…
Inside a quiet, snow-covered house deep in the icy forest,
Tom sat comfortably on the old leather couch,
a thick book titled "The Dark History of Mages" open in his hands.
Across from him, Claudia stretched and yawned,
clearly bored out of her mind.
Medusa draped herself lazily on the other side,
her snake-like eyes flicking over Tom's book with mild curiosity.
Finally, Claudia groaned,
"Hey, Tom… can we play a game or something? I'm super bored!"
Medusa perked up, agreeing eagerly.
"Yes! Let's do something fun. You've been reading that book forever."
Tom looked up calmly, closing the book with a quiet snap.
"Alright. What game do you two want to play?"
They both grinned mischievously and said in unison,
"We'll ask the questions — and you have to answer!"
Tom raised an eyebrow, the faintest smirk curling his lips.
"Fine. Let's see what you've got."
Outside, the snowy wind blew through the trees —
but neither Tom nor the girls knew
that a dangerous figure was already heading their way…
Claudia sat up straight, thinking hard.
"Okay, first question: What's your goal, Tom? Like… your biggest, deepest goal. What do you want more than anything else?"
The room seemed to grow still for a moment. The firelight flickered softly across Tom's face as he leaned back, his eyes half-shadowed.
"My goal," he said quietly,
"is to become something beyond even infinity. Beyond limits. Beyond the gods. Beyond anything that has ever existed."
Claudia blinked, then let out a short laugh.
"Pfft — what?! That's not even possible! Beyond infinity? That's, like, cheating!"
Medusa chuckled softly.
"You should know by now, Claudia — cheating is Tom's specialty."
Tom gave a slow, amused smile, his fingers tapping against the armrest.
"If infinity is the limit… I'll simply break the limit."
Claudia threw her hands up.
"Seriously?! You're like one of those edgy anime characters who always say the coolest thing just before destroying the universe."
Medusa smirked.
"He does have a certain dramatic flair."
Tom shrugged faintly, closing his eyes for a moment.
"I don't do it for flair. I do it because I can."
Claudia groaned, flopping onto her side dramatically.
"Ugh! You're impossible! How are you always this cool and annoying at the same time?"
Medusa let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head.
"You'll get used to it."
The night stretched on peacefully.
Claudia yawned widely, her head slowly tipping against Tom's arm. Medusa, despite her usual poised elegance, let out a small sigh and leaned lightly against his other side.
Tom remained still, glancing down at both of them.
For a moment, something almost tender flickered across his usually stoic face.
With a quiet breath, he reached for the soft blanket draped over the back of the couch and carefully pulled it over them both. Neither stirred, their gentle breathing filling the room with a faint, steady rhythm.
Tom sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the fire crackle.
Outside, the wind howled through the trees, cold and sharp.
Inside, the warmth of the room wrapped around him — but his mind was already elsewhere, sensing something approaching on the horizon. A presence, faint but unmistakable.
Without another word, Tom opened his book again, his eyes sharp and focused.
The night was peaceful… for now.
But the storm was coming.
The pale light of dawn crept through the frost-covered windows, casting thin silver beams across the quiet room. The fire had long since burned down to glowing embers, and the cold morning air seeped into the cracks of the stone walls.
Tom sat where he always did — on the old couch, book still resting on his lap. But now, his sharp eyes stared at nothing, deep in thought.
The blanket still covered Claudia and Medusa, both curled up beside him, lost in their peaceful dreams.
Tom's expression was unreadable.
He slowly lifted one hand, brushing his fingers over the edge of the ancient book — and then, in a low, whispering voice, he murmured to himself:
"I have to be more powerful… for the dream of my father."
The words hung in the cold air like a solemn vow. His eyes darkened, a cold fire flickering deep within them.
Without a sound, Tom rose from the couch, pulling his long, black cloak over his shoulders. He fastened the silver clasp at his throat — the same cloak he had worn when he had struck down Zeus upon the peak of Olympus… the same cloak that billowed like the wings of death when Odin had fallen before him.
Today, his face was no longer the calm, almost gentle mask he sometimes wore. Today, his face was carved from shadow — the expression of a man who had killed gods, torn apart empires, and stood undefeated.
Tom raised one hand — and in an instant, his body shimmered, fading into the thin morning air like a ripple of dark mist.
The room was silent. Claudia shifted slightly in her sleep, frowning faintly; Medusa let out a soft sigh but didn't wake.
They didn't notice.
They didn't sense what storm was about to unfold.
—
The air at the Lake of Nine was sharp and biting.
The massive lake stretched out under the gray morning sky, its dark waters still as glass. But the silence was heavy, almost oppressive — as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Suddenly, without warning, a figure appeared at the water's edge.
Tom.
His black cloak fluttered around him like smoke as he stood silently, his piercing eyes locked on the lake.
The water rippled. A deep tremor rolled through the earth.
And then… with a titanic surge, the surface broke open — and the World Serpent, Jörmungandr, rose up from the depths.
The sheer size of him blotted out the pale morning sun, his massive serpent eyes glowing like molten gold as he coiled up from the water.
His voice rumbled through the air, deep and ancient.
"So now… you want to kill me now, Tom Riddle?"
Tom smiled faintly. There was no warmth in it — only that cold, knowing curve of his lips.
"Yeah."
The World Serpent's great eyes narrowed. His body shifted, coils tightening as the water churned violently around him.
"You will regret this."
Tom tilted his head slightly, his sharp, elegant features calm — almost serene.
"No," he said softly,
"I won't."
—
The sky above seemed to darken, clouds gathering as if the heavens themselves sensed the battle to come.
Tom slowly lifted his hand — and dark energy crackled to life around his fingers, the power of countless stolen souls, of gods and titans, of Asgard and Olympus, humming through his veins.
The ground trembled. The air seemed to fracture under the weight of his presence.
And yet, far away — in the deep forest — someone stirred.
Sarai.
The sister who hated him, who knew nothing of the man her brother had become, who believed he was still that weak, forgotten boy.
But soon…
Soon, she would learn.