{Chapter: 101: Full On World Wars}
Todd let out a low whistle. "Hosorn… that sly bastard. Of course he'd be the one to report it first."
Charles didn't respond. His eyes remained fixed on the fading illusion, still trying to process everything.
War. Other worlds. The end of peace. And through it all, the gentle descent of the Automag Wall, a celestial curtain marking the opening act of something far beyond his comprehension.
Somewhere in his soul, he knew—this was the day everything changed.
—
He stood silently on the dewy lawn of the academy courtyard, the cool morning breeze tousling his long, dark robes. The grass beneath his boots was still slick from the dawn mist, and the smell of wildflowers mixed with the earthy scent of soil filled the air. Around him, the Silent Heart Academy was just beginning to stir, oblivious to the monumental shift about to descend upon them.
Hosorn ignored the blinking light on his portable communicator, its urgent message chiming softly in the background like a distant heartbeat. His gaze was fixed upward, toward the immense phenomenon unraveling in the heavens above.
There, high above the clouds, the Automag Wall was descending like a divine curtain being drawn across the sky. Its colossal panels of translucent light shimmered with arcane runes and ancient sigils, rotating and locking into place with slow, thunderous pulses of magical energy. The very air felt charged, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Despite the surreal nature of what he was witnessing, Hosorn remained composed. A flicker of unease passed through his sharp eyes, but it vanished just as quickly. He had prepared himself mentally for something like this—though perhaps not quite so soon.
"It seems the Council's evaluation of the situation is far graver than I anticipated…" he murmured under his breath, speaking to no one but himself.
Two weeks ago, he'd received a strange memory crystal from Dex. The information within had been fragmented, even disorganized—but there had been something about it, something that made Hosorn pause. Buried within those corrupted memory nodes were glimpses of another world, strange technology, and veiled threats wrapped in layers of magical interference.
Hosorn, ever the prudent strategist, hadn't wasted time. He passed the memory along to the Supreme Wizard Council, adding his own detailed interpretations and warnings. What they did with it was beyond his station—he was a Fifth-Level Wizard, after all, powerful by most standards, but still just a single thread in the tapestry of the Wizarding World.
And now, looking at the Automag Wall lowering into place—a feat that hadn't occurred in nearly 100,000 years—he understood the weight of what he had uncovered.
He had been right.
More importantly, he had acted quickly.
This might have saved millions... maybe even more.
His communicator pulsed again. This time, he accepted the message, his eyes narrowing as glowing text scrolled across the screen, lines of Council orders laced with urgency and authority. He read them silently, digesting every detail.
Then, without hesitation, he raised his staff and pointed it toward the sky.
From the spire of the Silent Heart Academy, a pulse of pale blue light shot into the clouds, resonating with the barrier of the Automag Wall. Moments later, hundreds of magical alarms sounded throughout the grounds—some shrill, some deep and echoing, depending on their function and assigned faculty.
The Call to Assemble had been issued.
Within minutes, the Academy's vast central plaza began to fill. Students, instructors, researchers, and even arcane creatures bound by contract came pouring out of buildings. Some wore the ceremonial robes of high-ranked enchanters, others the leather harnesses of battlemages, and many still bore the marks of youth—wide eyes, uncertain steps, and clutched textbooks. Some hadn't even had their morning tea.
Hosorn walked calmly toward the high marble platform at the plaza's center, climbing the steps with slow, deliberate steps. His deep blue robes rippled behind him, stitched with the emblem of the Silent Heart—a silver flame bound within a crystal eye. A wind, conjured perhaps by his own rising power, stirred around him as he turned to face the growing crowd.
Hundreds of thousands now stood before him. Shoulder to shoulder. So many lives. So many futures.
He scanned their faces. Some looked up with fear, others with confusion. A few, the older professors or elite students, already wore hardened expressions of grim readiness.
Hosorn took a deep breath and spoke.
His voice did not boom, yet it carried to every ear as if whispered directly to their souls—a product of sophisticated vocal enchantment designed for mass communication.
"You've seen it in the sky," he began. "You already know something monumental is occurring."
His voice deepened, calm yet grave. "Let me speak plainly. The Wizarding World has officially entered a state of total war."
A ripple went through the crowd like wind through a wheat field. Whispers broke out. A girl clutched her friend's arm. A young apprentice dropped his wand.
"This is not a tournament between academies. Not a territorial skirmish with rogue factions. Not even a civil magical dispute like the ones in our archives. This is something we have not faced in over a hundred millennia—a World War. A threat to our very existence."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. Then he continued, pacing slightly, like a general before his army.
"Some of you will see this as the worst moment of your lives. And you're not wrong. War is brutal. It is indiscriminate. It takes and takes and rarely gives anything back."
Another pause. This time, his voice softened.
"But for others—this may be the moment you were born for."
Murmurs again, but with a different tone. Curious. Hopeful. Fearful.
"This war will change everything. It will change the way you train. The way you live. Even the way you see yourselves. The Wizard Council has authorized the release of thousands of rare materials—things you've only read about in tomes: True Phoenix Feathers, Void Crystal, Forbidden Blueprint Scrolls. They're all being issued to the academies. Why?"
He raised a single gloved hand.
"Because the Council believes you might be the last line of defense."
He let that silence stretch, then continued with the formal notice.
"On the 11th day of the Seventh Month, Year 4578,4543, the Council identified a series of infiltrations into the Core Territories of the Wizarding World by an alien civilization known as Jiaenser. These infiltrators used advanced concealment methods that bypassed all standard detection arrays."
The crowd stiffened.
"Through enhanced prophecy magic, we've confirmed the intent of these invaders to be... malicious. They come not to negotiate, but to dominate, corrupt, or destroy."
Somewhere in the back of the plaza, a student fainted. Others began gripping the hilts of their wands and staves.
Hosorn's voice grew even more solemn.
"We estimate that within two years, direct contact between our world and theirs will become inevitable. As such, the Council has declared full wartime protocols effective immediately. All magical research, artifact production, and academy curriculum will now serve the war effort."
He looked out one last time at the sea of faces.
"I do not ask for your blind loyalty. I ask for your courage. This is the world we live in now. And it is your chance to shape it."
With a gesture, he concluded the broadcast. The wind stilled. The sky above darkened further as the last segment of the Automag Wall sealed into place—its glow spreading across the heavens like a divine net.
Somewhere, a war horn echoed.
And the era of peace ended.
*****
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