The moment Riddle uttered the words "We can work together," Charles nearly burst out laughing.
In Riddle's eyes, Charles could see a mix of wariness, curiosity, and eagerness — three parts fear, three parts testing, and four parts reckless ambition. He looked sincere, but sadly, it was all just an act.
That kid had already been completely fooled by Dumbledore — and by himself.
The Reverse World might indeed exist, but it wasn't something one could simply stroll into. It would only be possible after capturing Giratina.
"Cooperate? Why should I cooperate with you?"
Dumbledore, calm and unyielding as ever, stood firm in the vision. From his point of view, he was the one in control — there was no reason to work with something that wasn't even a ghost.
But Riddle had his own bargaining chip.
"Because I have magic! I come from a world completely different from yours — a magical world!"
He began to demonstrate the spells he remembered from his past life. Dumbledore watched with a look of fascination, clearly intrigued by what he saw.
"This does look… quite marvelous," Dumbledore admitted.
"No doubt about it!" Riddle said proudly. "In our world, magic is the power of wizards — it comes from within us, not from some creature called 'Barkman!'"
The images he conjured were dazzling — bursts of color and light that made his world seem so enticing.
"I must correct you on two things," Dumbledore replied patiently. "First, it's Pokémon, not Barkman. Second, in my world, not everyone merely commands Pokémon to fight. Some of us wield power of our own."
He waved his hand. One by one, figures appeared in the illusion — each standing in meditative focus, palms glowing with energy.
Pink. Blue. Gold. Green…
"Psychic power, Aura, the Power of Overcoming, the Power of Viridian, the Power of Dragons… Strong trainers can fight alongside Pokémon. And more importantly, we do not rely on trinkets to do it — unlike that little wooden stick you wave every time you cast one of your so-called spells."
Riddle stared at the scene, stunned. For a long moment, he said nothing."Harry never told me any of this," he muttered.
"Of course not," Dumbledore said softly. "Those with true power are always few and far between."
"I can agree with that much," Riddle said. "Still… even if your world holds power, it doesn't seem as versatile as magic, does it?"
He noticed that Dumbledore had categorized these powers into many different types — meaning there were limits, distinctions, barriers between them. Magic, on the other hand, encompassed all. Its adaptability, surely, was greater.
"You're just as clever as I remember," Dumbledore said with a small chuckle. "But perhaps we'll discuss this some other time."
It seemed the old wizard was intrigued — though he didn't show it openly, choosing instead to let Riddle stew for a while.
Riddle didn't mind.
Within the diary, time had no meaning. Whether days or years passed, it made no difference to him. And now that this world's Dumbledore was beginning to consider his offer, what reason did he have to worry about rejection?
The scene in the Pensieve faded. Charles and Dumbledore's consciousnesses returned to their bodies. The Headmaster's office was silent.
"So," Dumbledore said, "what do we do next? We don't exactly have a real Pokémon world."
"Then let's create one," Charles said without hesitation.
Of course, that was easier said than done. Spreading Pokémon across the real world had been an ongoing project for him, but no matter how much he promoted it, the history of this world couldn't change. If they freed Riddle now, the deception would crumble instantly.
So Charles intended to create a Pokémon world.
Naturally, creating a world was no simple task. Unless one possessed the power of Arceus, a true world could never be born.
Even with the Plates of Electricity, Grass, Water, and Earth — and even if he fused their elements through the Dragon Plate to form the Life Jewel — he could not conjure life from nothing, let alone create a world teeming with people and Pokémon.
Fortunately, he didn't need to.He just needed to fool Tom.
Or perhaps… open an Ultra Wormhole and travel to an Ultra World?
That was far too ambitious for now. For the moment, Dumbledore's job was to keep Riddle occupied within the diary.
"You can start by letting him teach you some spells," Charles said. "Test their feasibility. Then I'll craft a wand — made from Pokémon fur and Berries — something truly unique. Let him see that even this world holds the power to cast spells and revive him. But remember… don't progress too quickly."
"To be honest," Dumbledore said, "I'm starting to feel sorry for Tom."
Charles had already planned everything out in a few sentences — Riddle's manipulation, his false hope, all neatly arranged. The poor boy was pitiful in his own way. When the time came — when he believed he could truly resurrect himself in the Pokémon world — how would he react upon learning it was all a lie?
Perhaps he'd explode in rage and humiliation.
But thinking of the countless innocent lives lost to his cruelty, Dumbledore no longer felt much pity.
"Then it's settled," Dumbledore said with a faint smile. "By the way, I hope you don't mind if I tell him that you're the trainer who's been blocking me since his death — the reason I've hidden my true ambitions all this time."
"I don't mind," Charles replied, walking toward the door. "Just remember to change your face. In his eyes, I'm still Harry Potter."
"You never should've borrowed Harry's name," Dumbledore chided.
"I didn't think that far ahead," Charles said with a shrug. "At the time, I only meant to tease Riddle before destroying the diary. Who'd have thought it'd get this complicated?"
It was several days before Sirius finally delivered Slytherin's locket.
Judging from his expression, persuading Kreacher hadn't been easy. But as the last heir of the Black family, Sirius had the final say — no matter how much the old elf resisted in his heart.
"I never realized Regulus was so brave," Sirius said, voice thick with emotion.
"We often misjudge others," Dumbledore said gently, accepting the locket. "But truth always comes to light."
Sirius didn't linger in sorrow. He remembered Regulus's final request.
"Can this thing be destroyed? Kreacher tried countless times — all in vain."
"It's difficult," Dumbledore admitted, raising his wand. "But not impossible."
A flick of his wrist — fire blossomed at the wand's tip.
"To tell the truth," he murmured, "each time I destroy one of these relics… I can't help but feel a little regret."
(End of Chapter)