King's Cross Station - Platform 9 3/4
Voldemort scrambled backward, his robes smoking.
He had deflected the worst of the Fiendfyre, but his ego was charred.
He looked up to see Ernst walking through the smoke, untouched.
"You are persistent, Tom," Ernst said, raising his wand.
He didn't cast a Killing Curse.
He flicked his wrist, sending a barrage of kinetic bludgeoning hexes.
Crack. Snap.
Voldemort shielded, but the sheer force drove him to his knees.
His cloak tore away, revealing not a monster, but a man, handsome, pale, and thirty-four years old.
The face of Tom Riddle before the rot set in.
"Enough!" Voldemort roared.
"Nagini! Kill!"
The ground beneath the platform split.
A massive python, thick as a tree trunk, erupted from the concrete.
Its jaws unhinged, lunging for Ernst's head.
Ernst didn't flinch. He dropped his wand and clenched his right fist.
Kinetic Overload: 500%.
He leaped to meet the snake.
"I prefer hands-on research," Ernst grunted.
He drove his fist into the underside of the snake's jaw.
BOOM.
The impact created a shockwave that shattered the station windows.
Nagini was launched upward, smashing into the steel rafters of the ceiling before crashing down in a heap of scales.
"Physical trauma," Ernst lectured, landing gracefully.
"The one weakness of every wizard. You ignore the body to cultivate the mind. A mistake."
Voldemort stared at his fallen pet, then at Ernst.
He felt a chill he hadn't felt in decades. Fear.
Disapparate.
Voldemort turned on his heel, twisting space to flee.
Nothing happened.
The air felt solid, heavy.
The spatial coordinates were locked.
"Azazel," Ernst pointed to the rafters where the Red Devil perched, grinning.
"He locked the dimension. You are in a cage, Tom."
Ernst walked up to the Dark Lord, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground.
"Now," Ernst whispered.
"Let's talk about your soul. Or... the pieces of it."
Voldemort's eyes widened. "You..."
"I know about the Horcruxes," Ernst said coldly.
"I saw the fragmentation in your aura. You split your soul to cheat death. But did you know? If I possess the master soul, you, I can use sympathetic magic to curse the fragments. I can burn them all at once."
It was a bluff but Voldemort didn't know that.
"Who sent you?" Ernst demanded.
"Why attack me here?"
"The Ministry!" Voldemort choked out.
"The High Command! They hired me. They said if I killed you, they would turn a blind eye to my rise. They fear you, Doctor. They wanted your technology, but not the man."
Ernst dropped him. Voldemort collapsed, gasping.
"Of course," Ernst sneered.
"The British Government. They wanted to steal the nuke but didn't want to pay the Earl's price."
"Dr. Ernst," Azazel teleported down.
"We should kill them all. The wizards. The government."
"No," Ernst wiped his hands.
"This was a test. A negotiation by combat. If I died, they stole my secrets. Since I survived... they will honor the deal. They will give me the Earldom and the land just to keep me from destroying London."
He looked down at Voldemort.
"We are leaving," Ernst said.
"Back to Skull Island. Kerry can handle the paperwork for the land."
As they turned to leave, Ernst noticed a strange light.
Ghost was standing over the bodies of the dead Death Eaters.
Ghost reached down.
His hand passed through the skull of a corpse.
He pulled out a wisp of gray smoke, the soul.
Before Ernst could stop him, Ghost crushed the soul into a ball of dark energy and swallowed it.
The light of Ghost's body intensified. He moved to the next body.
Feed. Swallow. Glow.
"Fascinating," Ernst whispered.
"He consumes the bio-electric remnant to stabilize his own matrix."
When the last soul was eaten, Ghost turned to Ernst.
The featureless face seemed to gain definition.
"Master," a voice echoed in Ernst's mind. It was hollow, digital, yet human.
"I hunger."
Ernst smiled.
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