While Flamel was explaining the nature of the liminal illusion to Abel, Dawn quietly reached out and brushed his fingers across the edge of their robes.
The fabric passed through his fingertips without resistance.
As expected.
Both of them existed here as souls.
Dawn, however, had entered this place with a physical body.
Just like touching a ghost, he could not interact with them at all.
But... If both were souls, then what exactly distinguished the living from the dead?
Dawn narrowed his eyes.
He instinctively tried to observe them more closely, but without magic present within their forms, there were no visible patterns at all.
Could the technique of attaching magic to objects be applied to souls?
He considered the idea.
Then, under Flamel's increasingly puzzled gaze, Dawn reached forward and pushed his hand straight into Flamel's chest.
"Oh? So the living and the dead cannot touch each other in this place?" Flamel speculated, unaware of what Dawn was actually attempting.
Perhaps because he was already dead, he did not notice Dawn trying to release magic outward.
Instead, he simply placed a hand on Abel's shoulder.
Feeling the solid contact, he sighed.
"It seems... you truly are dead, poor child."
Abel stood there, stunned, as if the sky had collapsed over him.
Meanwhile, Dawn withdrew his hand, his expression filled with disappointment.
The experiment had failed.
The moment he released magic, it rapidly dissipated, thinning out until it fell below the threshold needed to form any pattern.
Nothing could be observed.
Dawn turned toward Abel, intending to ask whether he could see the door leading to the world of the dead.
But suddenly, something felt wrong.
After placing his hand on Abel's shoulder, Flamel had stopped moving entirely.
His hand remained there, unchanging.
Abel, too, showed no reaction. He stood frozen, staring blankly at the old man, his eyes devoid of focus.
What's going on? Dawn frowned.
He stepped to the side, moving between them, waving his hand in front of their faces.
No response.
Something had clearly happened.
But why? They had both been right in front of him the entire time.
Dawn's gaze shifted to the point of contact, the hand resting on Abel's shoulder.
Was it because they touched?
Indeed, the moment they made contact, both of them had frozen in place.
But what did that mean?
Dawn narrowed his eyes, watching Abel closely. His earlier suspicion resurfaced.
If Abel had entered the liminal illusion due to the effects of the powdered Resurrection Stone, then could it be that he had just connected to Flamel's mind?
Was physical contact the trigger for connecting to the thoughts of the dead?
Dawn's thoughts surged.
After a moment of silence, he raised his wand.
°Legilimency°
A red flash shot forward.
But it passed straight through both figures and struck the stone-covered ground behind them.
No effect.
"Doesn't work?"
Dawn frowned.
Logically, their souls still contained memories and emotions. It should have been possible to read them.
Was it because this spell could only be used on living beings?
He hesitated.
But he did not give up.
He tried to convince himself, to truly believe, that Legilimency could work on souls.
Then he cast it again.
°Legilimency°
Once more, the red light passed through them without effect. Dawn lowered his wand in irritation.
So that was that. Even he could not bend magic's limitations through sheer will alone.
"Too many restrictions..."
He sighed.
Perhaps he really had grown complacent lately.
Yes, he had achieved remarkable feats, like transforming magical creatures and breaking certain boundaries of magic.
But he was still far from true freedom.
After a brief moment of self-reflection, Dawn made a silent decision. Once all of this was over, he would return to serious magical research.
Still, although he could not influence the two of them, he did not leave.
Instead, he remained where he was, watching closely. He wanted to see what would happen next.
The wind stirred their clothes.
Time seemed meaningless in the liminal illusion. The sun hung motionless in the sky.
How long passed, no one could say.
Then suddenly, Dawn noticed something.
Abel's figure was changing.
The boy's form was gradually fading, like a painting losing its color, the vivid tones washing away.
Dawn's eyes sharpened.
He stepped closer, observing carefully. He had not mistaken it... Abel was disappearing.
The process was fast.
Within about a minute, Abel vanished completely, as if he had never existed at all.
Dawn flexed his fingers, forming a hypothesis.
If the powdered Resurrection Stone allowed a person's soul to enter this place during sleep, then this disappearance likely meant that Abel had awakened.
Dawn turned his attention to Flamel. But what he saw surprised him.
Flamel remained frozen.
Completely motionless. Still standing there, hand extended toward empty space, eyes dull.
"Hm?"
Dawn blinked.
What now?
He instinctively reached out, then stopped himself.
Instead, he raised his voice. "Mr. Flamel? Wake up. Mr. Flamel... can you hear me?"
He called louder and louder.
But no matter what he did, there was no response. Flamel remained like a finely crafted puppet.
This strange situation made Dawn's frown deepen.
One problem after another.
Dawn clicked his tongue in frustration.
He circled around Flamel, poking and prodding, even pushing his fingers into the old man's forehead and stirring slightly.
"...Feels like a lump of mush."
Muttering to himself, he forced himself to calm down. Then, once again, he returned to thinking about the Resurrection Stone.
It was the only lead he had.
And soon, an answer began to form.
The powdered Resurrection Stone allowed one to connect to the thoughts of the dead.
And from what had happened with Lee Jordan and Avery, those thoughts could sometimes return to the real world.
So, had Flamel lost his thoughts?
Or had those thoughts followed Abel back to reality, achieving a kind of indirect resurrection within his body?
Which meant that soul and thought were separate entities.
Dawn stared at the hollow shell of Flamel's soul. This confirmed something he had long suspected but never fully proven.
After a moment, he shook his head.
There was nothing more he could do for Flamel. He could not even touch him.
Instead, he turned his attention back to his original goal.
Looking around, he determined his direction and began walking across the grass toward his old house.
Soon, the familiar wooden cabin came into view.
Dawn pushed open the iron gate, stepped through the overgrown grass, and entered the house.
The living room was spotless.
He looked around.
Nothing had changed.
The last time he had been here was when he used the Echoing Spell to trace the past.
Wasting no time, he searched the entire first floor, then went upstairs, opening each door in turn.
Finally, he reached the bedroom.
As the door swung open, he saw it. A familiar figure lying on the bed, a white bracelet around his wrist.
Found you.
Dawn's heart stirred.
He stepped closer, his attention immediately drawn to the bracelet, the very thing that had led to his capture.
But he did not remove it yet. That could wait until after he got out.
He cast a levitation spell on his future self's body.
Just as he was about to carry him away, his eyes narrowed instinctively. Then his expression changed.
"Hm?"
Dawn leaned closer, studying the body carefully.
Because magic still flowed within that body, just like his own, he could see the internal patterns clearly.
But after a careful comparison, he realized something.
The patterns inside his future self had changed.
Not slightly. Dramatically.
No...
Something was wrong.
___________
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