While everyone else recoiled in fear, Grindelwald was the first to step forward, pushing past the crowd. Wade, who had been by his side all along, naturally followed suit.
Upon seeing the scene inside, despite his mental preparation, his heart still clenched, and his temples throbbed violently.
Wade wanted to take a deep breath to calm himself, but a wave of intense nausea washed over him. He lowered his head, covering his mouth and nose, which finally allowed his rapidly accelerating breathing to slow down.
Blue flames surged outwards in successive waves, practically clearing out all the base personnel within sight.
However, Grindelwald's flames only incinerated those who harbored ill will towards him. The other wizards in black cloaks, and the beings behind the walls that one couldn't even call "people," were left untouched.
Because of this, everyone could see the scene inside even more clearly.
Dozens, even hundreds, of "test subjects" were confined like livestock in transparent cages, their bodies deformed, skin festering, and covered in strange feathers or scales, emitting weak moans. The cages were awash with blood.
Some appeared to be already dead; even as the brilliant flames approached, they made no move to evade them.
Wade had initially thought the base personnel were merely conducting Werewolf and Vampire transformations, but that was not the case.
Judging by the appearance of the "test subjects," the people here were also experimenting with the bloodlines of various magical creatures such as Giants, Trolls, Goblins, Banshees, Mermaids, and Centaurs.
Werewolves and Vampires themselves originated from human transformation. While the mortality rate was high, with proper measures, it was generally controllable. However, for creatures with completely different human genetics, transformation was tantamount to slaughter.
The base personnel were essentially throwing countless individuals into this bottomless pit of a lottery, hoping against all odds to draw an SSR. The involvement of technology and genetic engineering did not make the process any smoother or more humane.
Grindelwald narrowed his eyes, a cold anger flashing across his face. He waved his hand, and several wizards carrying Streaming Mirrors and Master Mirrors immediately ran in to record the internal scene.
Grindelwald walked deeper inside, watching some "test subjects" even actively throw themselves into the flames, attempting to burn themselves to death. He saw some "people" emitting agonizing wails, tearing at their own flesh until they bled profusely.
He turned around and looked at the wizards behind him who had followed him in, now completely silent.
His gaze could pierce through the magical mist woven into their cloaks, clearly seeing the young eyes beneath their hoods.
Not long ago, those eyes held doubt, provocation, weakness, disgust, blind loyalty, and inexplicable arrogance.
But now, their gazes had undergone a satisfying transformation.
Grindelwald looked at the crowd, his white hair dancing wildly in the hot wind, his eyes sharp and bright, as if burning himself and others.
"Before we set out, I asked you a question. Do you have the answer yourselves now?"
"Why am I still here? Why does the Wizarding World still need the Alliance?"
"—This is the answer!"
Grindelwald's ancient voice rumbled in their ears. Even Drayne was shaken to his core. He wanted to say something but couldn't utter a single word. In the end, he simply bowed deeply.
Wade took two steps, quickly putting some distance between himself and Grindelwald.
Then he saw numerous black-robed wizards, like sunflowers chasing the sun, bowing to Grindelwald with an unspeakable submission and reverence.
Grindelwald raised his Wand high, and a red firework exploded above his head, complementing the flames below and outlining the surroundings like hell itself.
"Go," he said. "Kill everyone, and bring me their leader!"
The numerous wizards dispersed with a roar, killing in every direction.
The shouts of "Avada Kedavra," "Confringo," "Expelliarmus," and "Crucio" grew more frequent.
To wizards, Muggles as a whole were formidable. But in a battle like this, facing wizards with various astonishing spells, ordinary troops had virtually no power to fight back.
The wizards holding the Streaming Mirrors diligently recorded the tragic state of the "test subjects." Then, hearing someone shout about another laboratory being discovered, they hurriedly ran to continue recording.
*Bang!*
In a transparent cage not far from Wade, a "person" covered in black fur, with a head five or six times larger than normal, vigorously pounded on the bulletproof glass.
Wade turned his head and saw a pair of blood-red eyes looking at him pleadingly. The person opened their mouth and, syllable by syllable, with all their might, said—
"Kill... me... please... kill... me..."
Wade looked into his eyes, feeling as if his breath had been stolen. His fingers trembled slightly on his Wand.
Boundless rage and sorrow filled his heart, making his chest ache.
A black-robed wizard approached Grindelwald. He tilted his head, curiously glancing at Wade, who was wearing a hood nearby, then softly asked for instructions:
"Sir, should these guys also..."
He looked at the test subjects and made a killing gesture.
"No, leave them," Grindelwald said with a smile. "The Ministry of Magic will have a bigger headache than us figuring out what to do with these people."
The black-robed wizard bowed his head in heartfelt conviction, saying, "Yes."
Grindelwald sent everyone off to do their tasks, then beckoned to Wade, "Come with me, boy."
Wade, who had deliberately kept his distance earlier, glanced at him but said nothing, walking over.
He was distraught and didn't notice that some people had carried the blue flames to the surrounding area. Grindelwald saw this and was about to raise his hand to extinguish the flames when he saw Wade calmly step through them, completely unharmed. The smile in Grindelwald's eyes deepened.
He waved his Wand, no longer maintaining the dangerous blue flames, and walked out of the area.
As Wade was about to exit, he seemed to hear an incredibly desperate cry. He instinctively turned around and saw the red-eyed "person" staring fixedly at him, with an uncontrollable, intense longing in their eyes.
Wade raised his Wand and pointed it at that person.
The black-robed wizard from earlier quickly stopped him: "Wait, you can't—"
*Boom!*
After a muffled thud, the robed wizard spun around to see the person in the glass cage explode into a mist of blood, utterly dead, yet with a strange, satisfied smile lingering on the head that had flown off.
Seeing this, the other test subjects immediately grew agitated. Many rushed to the glass walls, pounding on them and making various gestures, begging Wade to grant them such a swift and clean death as well.
The robed wizard murmured, "You really are breaking with them, aren't you, kid..."
— Breaking with whom?
Wade looked at him, bewildered.
He was still caught up in the emotion of his recent actions, breathing rapidly, his Wand trembling slightly in his hand, and the sound of rushing blood seemed to roar in his ears.
Wade raised his Wand again, intending to cast a calming spell on himself, but his arm was suddenly seized by the robed wizard.
"Alright, alright. Killing one could be called an impulse, but continuing to defy Mr. Grindelwald's orders, even you will be punished."
The robed wizard quickly ushered him out the door, saying, "But I really like your spunk, kid. Let's grab a couple of drinks once this is all over! Oh, by the way, my name's Antoine Moreau. Don't forget it, Gray."
Having his name called out so suddenly, more effective than any spell, Wade instantly calmed down.
He gave the man a deep look. Beyond his height, which was nearly six feet, the only discernible feature was a silver four-leaf clover ring on his hand.
Wade followed the man's pull out of the room and saw Grindelwald standing in the corridor, looking back at him, his gaze showing no surprise whatsoever.
"Let's go," he said.
Wade silently followed him, realizing that Grindelwald was surprisingly familiar with the layout of this place. He led Wade through several turns, then purposefully pushed open a door.
It was a surveillance room.
The staff were nowhere to be seen. The desks and floor were messy, and most of the surveillance feeds had gone out due to magical interference, displaying a black-and-white static.
Only about a third of the cameras were still functioning, showing the Alliance clashing with enemy soldiers in various locations.
Both sides had casualties, and the wizards didn't have an overwhelming advantage. While the Iron Charm could block ordinary bullets, one still needed time to react.
Grindelwald sat relaxed in a chair, letting out a long sigh. The vibrant life force that had been burning within him rapidly diminished, and he exuded an aura of exhaustion and weakness.
Seeing Wade looking at him, Grindelwald chuckled, "Surprised? I'm not as powerful as people imagine. If you were to act now, you might just send me back to Nurmengard... or to hell."
Wade could sense that he was being remarkably sincere at this moment; his exhaustion and helplessness seemed entirely unfeigned.
All the other Alliance members had been sent out by Grindelwald, leaving only Wade by his side. And Wade's eyes told him there was no one else hidden, invisible, nearby.
He removed his hood, looked at the infamous dark wizard, and asked, "If you thought I'd act, why didn't you keep a few more people? Or are you content for your endeavor to end just as it's begun?"
"My endeavor?" Grindelwald smiled. "Do you know what I truly wanted?"
Wade's eyes flickered.
Grindelwald's former slogan—who in the Wizarding World, besides the ignorant and foolish, didn't know it?
Before Wade could answer, Grindelwald provided the explanation himself:
"I did indeed once want wizards to rule Muggles—it was an unprecedented opportunity. The entire world was in turmoil, and I even had collaborators among Muggle leaders... But unfortunately, both he and I failed."
"What do wizards have now? In just a few decades, a peaceful and comfortable life has made them so cowardly, lazy, and utterly incompetent."
Grindelwald looked disdainfully at the surveillance video, where a wizard and a soldier abruptly encountered each other. Before the wizard could even raise his Wand, he was shot through the stomach by the soldier's bullet.
If a comrade hadn't rushed over immediately, that wizard would likely have been headshotted the next second.
There were countless wizards injured or even killed due to slow reactions, unskilled spells, or inability to aim. Grindelwald felt waves of anger burning within him, several times wanting to use Confringo on those good-for-nothings.
Thinking back to the battle-hardened elites under his command then, and looking at these greenhorns now, Grindelwald refrained from cursing, but couldn't help but let out a long sigh.
"A peaceful cradle cannot nurture warriors brave enough for change. All I want is to sow a seed of resistance in their hearts."
Grindelwald sighed, "Just now, my most important objective was achieved... No matter how many years pass, I believe the wizards present today will never forget what they witnessed. They will forever remember the cruelty and greed of Muggles, and they will never let their guard down against them."
"What about you, Wade Gray?"
"You're a smart kid. Seeing these facts, do you still believe, as Dumbledore says, that Muggles are a weak group needing protection?"
Grindelwald asked.
Wade thought for a moment, then, instead of avoiding the question as before, said, "Weakness and strength are always relative, but morality and justice are not."
He paused, then continued, "Muggles can harm wizards, and wizards can harm Muggles. Heinous crimes exist in every group. To only see one part, and unilaterally define an entire group as the enemy, I think that's what's wrong."
"But it's also a fact that wizards were persecuted by Muggles to the point of having to isolate the Wizarding World, hiding like rats!" Grindelwald said sharply. "Isn't it laughable to dream of understanding them when there's no basis for equal dialogue?"
"But to change reality, bloody rule and slaughter won't work either. You've already proven that point," Wade said bluntly. "Muggles have been killing each other for thousands of years. Far more of their own kind have died at their hands in wars than have been killed by wizards. Do you see them submitting?"
"Why not?" Grindelwald retorted with a sneer. "Don't you have a young Indian girl among your companions? Do you know how many years her country has been ruled by Brahmins and Kshatriyas? The Dalits there don't resist!"
Wade was momentarily choked, then said, "But not all Muggles are Indian Dalits. Unless you can kill every educated ordinary person, you can't achieve the complete Muggle subjugation by wizards that you envision."
"If you kill Muggles, what about the other magical creatures who oppose wizard rule? If you kill magical creatures, what about the pacifist wizards? If you kill everyone, who will you have left by your side?"
"Hatred and slaughter are just crude outlets; they never solve problems!"
"To change the status quo, you need to clarify one question: Who are our enemies? Who are our friends? Only by broadly uniting everyone and gaining more allies can you strengthen your own power and specifically isolate and weaken your enemies!"
"The enemy can be a wizard or a Muggle, but it must be a villain who harms the majority of people and violates basic morality and justice! Not someone who draws a line like you do, and then forces everyone to believe that anyone on the other side of that line is an enemy!"
"If you mindlessly push everyone to become your opponent, then even the best situation will turn to dust, just like what happened to you all back then..."
"Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough..."
Grindelwald suddenly broke into a tremendous fit of coughing, as if he was about to cough up his lungs. His thin back was arched like a taut bow, and his violent coughing echoed through the room.
Wade immediately shut his mouth, a hint of annoyance in his eyes.
— Damn it! Got carried away!
Wade watched the 110-year-old man trembling with coughs in his chair, genuinely worried he might accidentally anger him to death.
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