Master Potter of Kamar-Taj, Chapter 26

Over the course of his short life, Harry had realised that people always had a fascination with his eyes. When Aunt Petunia was in the middle of scolding him, she'd look into his shining eyes, and stop, sending him out of her sight. The passers-by around Kamar-Taj would stop him and point at his eyes, chatting excitedly. "They're so bright! Like the ocean!" stuff like that. And then, at Hogwarts, the teachers all said he had his mother's eyes. And if he was honest, he loved his eyes. The greenest green anyone would ever see, shining pools of liquid emerald. But now? Those iconic eyes were gone, replaced by spheres of the darkest onyx. If one were to look into those eyes, they would not see the kind-hearted, impulsive, self-assured preteen there once was. They would see nothing but pure, unbridled hatred. And it was terrifying.

Morgana trembled, firing off a powerful blast of lightning to strike the young sorcerer directly in the chest. Or it would have. Harry's impassive face curled into a snarl. He raised his hand, a wall of inky shadow bursting from within the Darkhold, swallowing the blast with no sign of difficulty.

Morgana's fear contorted into fury. "How dare you!" she screamed, performing every spell she could think of. Chains of liquid hot magma sprung from the ground, constricting him. A thundercloud appeared above him, firing more lightning on him over and over, a circle of green hellfire trapped him. He didn't move an inch. "That! Book! Is! Mine!" she roared, firing missiles of energy at him with each word. Harry blinked. And suddenly, hell broke loose. All of the witch's spells turned against her, the chains coiling back like serpents waiting to strike at her, the circle of fire dissipated harmlessly, the thundercloud exploded into shadows that wrapped themselves around her, shocking her with her own lightning. The chains struck, whipping and constricting her more and more, burning her skin with each strike.

Harry willed the book to change page, smirking maliciously as the book revealed a new enchantment. "You will die," his voice was not the one Matt and Stephen knew. It was cold, layered, soft yet booming. "But first, you will suffer," He raised his hand once more, as it sparked with black lightning. His arm shook, and cracks began to appear in his skin, as tendrils of energy burnt through his flesh. "Alam Sentir,"

His eyes, if possible, turned even blacker, as his hand glowed with power and fury. Morgana screamed, writhing and bucking. The pain was unbearable, she wanted to faint, to die, but she could not. That wretched wizardling was keeping her conscious with her book!

In his mind, Harry screamed. This power was too much for him to handle. He could feel his soul burn under the strain of simply using a counterspell. He had to stop.

No! Another part of him thought, screaming in his head. Stephen, Wong, Lao, Hamir, and now Matt? She has to suffer! She has to die!

But he'll die too! He's too weak for this! It was tearing him apart!

Look at all she's done in the past week alone! Kill her!

His brow furrowed from the strain, the agony. He tried to pull away, to close the book, but he couldn't. He couldn't move an inch, he was stuck there, his life force slipping from him as he tortured the monster before him.

He reached out to the Darkhold with his mind. "O-Other. Are you there?"

Silence.

"Other!"

"What do you want, boy?" The familiar voice of the Other snapped.

"I used the Darkhold, but I'm not strong enough! Its killing me! Please, help!" he pleaded with the faceless voice.

"Stop trying to escape. The more you try to escape its grasp, the tighter you will be bound to it. Relax your mind and soul, and release the book," The Other explained in rushed tones.

Harry was confused as to why he was being so cooperative. Nonetheless, he did as the Other said. What did he have to lose at this point? He calmed himself, breathing as heavily as he could. After a few moments, he felt the power of the spell weaken, and he regained his ability to move, but barely. The hand that held the Darkhold twitched, but the book stayed in its place. Harry closed his eyes, focusing on one thought, one single anchor point. Save Matt. Save Matt. Save. Matt.

Morgana burst free of the ties that bound her, which had cracked and crumbled easily, now that Harry's power was lessening. She screeched, blasting him with the strongest missile she could muster. His back slammed against the wall, and he heard something crack. The Darkhold tumbled out of his hand as he was swept off his feet, and the connection was broken. His eyes returned to their emerald hue, and the veins of energy coursing through his flesh disappeared, causing the cracks and tears in his skin to start seeping blood. He moaned, pulling himself as far up as he could, reaching out when he saw Morgana shakily pick up the Darkhold, laughing maniacally. "You foolish child. I captured 4 powerful sorcerers to wield the power of these pages, and you think you can control its might by yourself? I was under the impression that you were intelligent for your age,"

Harry winced, slipping his Sling Ring onto his hand. "You… had… to be… stopped…" he grunted, limping towards her, blood dripping from his arms and face.

"And look at how that went for you!" she grabbed his face and lifted him into the air, channeling magic through her fingertips to burn his cheeks. "You brought me exactly what I needed. I am victorious now because of you," she cackled again, tossing him on top of the barely conscious Matt. Harry screamed as he fell on whatever was broken in his back. "I will admit, I admire your tenacity. You remind me of Arthur in that regard. But do not think that will save you. I did not get my chance to kill that sanctimonious bastard, but I suppose one foolish thorn in my side is as good as any other," her eyes glowed black, and a ball of black fire floated in her open palm. "I said I would kill you,"

Harry shifted on top of Matt, wincing and groaning. He looked up at her, smirking painfully. "N-not… yet…" Harry's hand began to draw a circle beneath him, a Sling Portal appearing on the floor.

"You dare!" Morgana threw her fireball at him, but a moment too late. Harry and Matt fell through the portal, collapsing on the steps outside of the church.

Harry rolled off his friend, sobbing in agony and remorse. He'd failed. He'd doomed the entire bloody world. Everything that happened was his own damn fault. He closed his eyes, waiting for the death he knew would come for him. He barely felt it when strong arms lifted him off the steps, carrying him inside.

The nightmares came again that evening. His parents, screaming and dying, though this time they weren't alone. Stephen, Wong, Hamir, Lao, Ron, Hermione, Matt. All of them being tortured and killed over and over. And he was powerless to stop it, any of it. He had to just stand there, immobile, as their suffering grew greater and greater. He heard the maniacal cackle that had plagued his nights for so long, as Voldemort stepped out of the shadows, firing curses and hexes at his helpless family. Harry wailed in his sleep, as he saw another figure step out of the shadows, standing alongside the Dark Lord and wielding her own magic with practiced cruelty. All seven of them screamed in agony, but one gaze pierced him, making everything all the more horrifying. Stephen's eyes were fixed squarely on him, and through his yells and grunts, they spoke volumes with the one question, the one word, that they asked him:

Why?

He was ripped from his sleep with a blood-curdling scream, sweat dripping from his brow like a waterfall. He looked around at the unfamiliar room he was in, panting heavily. The way it was furnished, it reminded him of the Gryffindor Common Room. He tried to sit up straight, grunting as pain shot through his back and up his arm.

"Don't try to move too much," said Matt from the corner of the room. He was in sling, and there were butterfly stitches on a gash over his eye. He walked over to Harry's bedside with a slight limp, and Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of shame.

"Matt," he croaked, surprised at how weak his voice sounded. "I… I'm so sorry. I should've protected you, I shouldn't've let you come, I,"

"You," Matt interrupted him, smiling softly, "aren't responsible for any of this. What you are responsible for is my not being dead,"

Harry grinned, looking at Matt with pained eyes. "I could say the same to you,"

"No way in hell I'm gonna let you die, pal,"

Harry winced, pulling himself up straight. "Same here. Which is why I'm going to deal with Morgana myself. Alone,"

Matt rolled his eyes, resting his cane on Harry's torso. "OK first off, what the hell are you going to do to her in your state? You can't even stand, let alone fight. Second, you only got in there because of me, so-,"

"I only got in this state because there was someone there I had to save. Without you there, I have no distractions, and-"

"And no backup," Matt retorted, folding his arms. "What is it? Are you worried because I can't see? Haven't I proven that I'm more than capable of-"

"This isn't a game, Matt! This is life and death! You can't help me. I won't let you risk your life because you want to prove you're some kind of daredevil!" Harry winced, the pain in his torso flaring up as he snapped.

"You think that's what this is about?" Matt shot back, nostrils flaring. "You are my best friend, Harry. I'm not going to let you fight her on your own,"

He sighed, leaning back and biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He really didn't want to bring Matt. It was too dangerous. He couldn't handle it on his own, he knew that, but he couldn't handle it with Matt either. So what was it? Try and fail alone, or try and fail next to some random kid he picked off the street? He groaned and shivered as his ribs slowly knit themselves back together. "Ngh! Gyah! F-fine. I won't go now. I need to heal anyway,"

Matt nodded, still incensed. "Good. Now get some rest. I'll let Sister Miriam know you came to," the blind boy hobbled out of the room, leaving Harry in silence, accompanied by only his own thoughts.

Midnight. The city that never sleeps was as quiet as it could be. Harry was flicking through The Times, looking for any news from the Village about any strange goings-on. Not a peep. She'd been quiet. Why was she quiet? She had the Darkhold, unlimited magical potential at her fingertips! So why wasn't the world all… on fire? What was she doing with it, using it as a paperweight? It took him less than 5 seconds to tap into its knowledge. Granted it nearly killed him bu-ohhhhhhhhh. Right. She saw what happened to him, and wanted to make sure it didn't happen to her. Kinda clever, he had to admit. He did hope that ol' Death Runner wasn't so smart. He tested his legs. Besides a light aching and the odd scrape that his body apparently decided wasn't essential to heal, he felt fine. Fine enough to completely betray his friend. Fine enough to slip on his Sling Ring, tuck the Erised Shard back under his Gi, and open a Sling Portal back to The VIllage. "I'm sorry, mate," He muttered, and walked through.

"Hey pal," Harry's head span around to a nearby bin, atop of which sat a certain blind Catholic.

"How the hell did you get here? I closed the portal!"

He rolled his eyes, hopping off the bin and clapping Harry on the shoulder. "I got a cab here the moment you left. I'm not an idiot, I knew you'd do this."

Harry scowled, storming towards the sanctum. "Go home, Matt,"

"For the last time, no," Matt smirked. "You can't stop m-," he grunted suddenly as he was wrapped in ropes.

"I said no. I'm doing this on my own. You're not dying because of me." Harry's face softened for a moment. "I'm sorry, Matt. You'll thank me for this some day." He nodded stiffly, and ran into the sanctum.

Harry was surprised that the ogres were no longer patrolling around. The pungent stench that followed the brutes had disappeared from the halls. Still, he tiptoed around, avoiding the creaky parts of the floor he'd come to recognise. Creeping down the spiral stairs to the basement, he took a deep breath, conjuring golden bands around his forearms, and mandala from his hands. "I know you're here, Le Fay. come on out,"

He heard an irritating cackle, and the air before him shimmering as Morgana returned to the world of the visible. "Ah look, the one that got away. How wonderful to see you again, wizardling," she smirked, flicking through the Darkhold idly.

"You have what you wanted, but the world's not on fire. I thought you'd have at least brought back Camelot castle or something," Harry gulped, clenching his fists tightly.

She cackled, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, that was my original plan, but then I saw what happened to you. Granted, you're an inexperienced little wizardling, with, perhaps, two years of experience?"

"Four," he snarled, nostrils flaring.

"And so I decided to take things more slowly. Learn how to correctly wield the Darkhold's power, so I didn't make the same idiotic mistake as you. So thank you, Harry Potter. You have ensured my victory!" She threw her head back, laughing insanely.

Harry dropped to his knees, hands on the floor. He closed his eyes, a shudder convulsing through his chest. How the hell could he beat her now? All of this was his fault. Because of him, the world would be plunged into a darkness like no other. What if she found Voldemort? What if she brought him back to life, allied herself with him? Everyone was going to suffer and die, because of him.

"That's right, little wizardling. Bend the knee to your new queen," she stalked over to him, licking her lips, a terrifying gleam in her eye.

No.

He wouldn't let this happen. He couldn't. He took a long, steadying breath, and his head snapped up. His eyes glowed, the green hue they normally held replaced by a majestic gold. Deep within, a keen eye would see ornate symbols and runes orbiting his pupils. Golden sparks of energy arced around him, coalescing into shining circles that spun slowly around him. He pulled himself to his feet, a snarl growing on his face.

"Not to you. Never to you," he growled, and threw his arms forward, two bolts of yellow lightning firing at Morgana. She dodged them effortlessly, as they crashed into the diamond chains holding Stephen and Wong. Morgana grinned, her eyes glinting with malice and hatred. Harry looked for a split second at the spots where his attack landed, and saw the smallest of cracks in the chain links. He matched her evil grin, pulling a Mandala out of the circle of power around his waist.

"Do you know the fable…" he leapt over a green sphere of energy, tossing the disc at her, "...the fable of the raven and the mountain?" the mandala split into four in midair. Morgana easily leapt out of the way, not seeing Harry's triumphant smirk.

"You are about to die, and you want to tell children's stories? Fine, child, enlighten me," she sneered out as she summoned a black twister, protecting her.

"There was once a mountain made of diamond," he sent a dozen blasts of golden light towards her. "It was a mile high, a mile wide, and a mile deep in the ground," every blast was spun through the twister, and exploded behind the sorceress. He leapt into the air, narrowly avoiding a red blade of lava Morgana conjured from the ground. "Every 100 years, a raven would come along, and sharpen its beak on the mountainside," he ran around the dungeon, blasting hundreds of crackling balls of energy at his foe. Morgana groaned, flicking her wrist. The twister surrounding her sped towards Harry. He was a second too late. The black whirlwind caught him, throwing him into the wall. He screamed as he heard a rib snap.

"What is the purpose of this drivel?!" she screeched, flicking open the Darkhold.

Harry steadied himself, his hands shaking as he ripped Dragonfang out of its pocket dimension. He leapt at Morgana, throwing the sword at her like a javelin. She batted it out of the way, and Harry grinned as he felt it hum with understanding in his mind. He kicked her in the head, vaulting back off her chest and summoning another ten mandalas around him. They orbited around him for a moment, before flying off in formation, flying past Morgana. He had given up the pretense by this point. "It is said that once the raven had etched through the entire mountain, that the whole towering mound of diamond had been chipped away, that the first second of eternity had passed,"

Morgana screamed, sending out a blast of black and green fire all around her. The splintered chains binding her prisoners shook, clanged, and finally, as was Harry's plan, shattered. Harry was thrown once again to the wall, blood spurting from his mouth. "Get to the point!"

He chuckled, holding out his hand, in which Dragonfang reappeared. "The point is," he placed his hand on the floor, a trail of multiversal energy leaving his fingers, weaving into a golden shield in front of him, "that you might say that that's a hell of a mountain,"

Morgana growled, moving to run at Harry.

"But we would say," said a voice behind her, "that's one hell of a bird," Morgana turned, her growl molding into a screech of shock, rage, and fear. In unison, Stephen, Lao, Hamir and Wong leapt at her, their relics and spells glinting in the firelight. With his mentors freed, the tide of the battle changed. Harry laughed, jumping into the air, Dragonfang raised above his head. It clashed with a shield Morgana raised just in time, but soon she was trying to ward away the spells of an additional four people.

Her screeches became less enraged and more desperate as Wong and Stephen's ropes of magic wrapped around her wrist, limiting her movement. It was enough that with the help of Lao and Hamir, Harry managed to bat away the Darkhold from her grip, the book flying through the air and hitting the ground, skidding a good distance away.

"No!" she roared, spinning in place. A whirlwind kicked up, throwing the sorcerers back. She held out a hand, the Darkhold flying into it. She opened it to a random page, laughing as her eyes turned from a striking green to pitch black. "This will do nicely," her voice, he noticed, did not change as his did. "Je'e le ak'abo', taasik in paalitsilo'obo'!"

"Morgana, no!" Harry yelled, but it was too late. She cackled as an inky black sphere grew in front of them, opening to reveal a horrifying eye. Within the abyssal pupil, Harry could see dozens of spirits spiral from the void, screeching in discordant unison. They charged at all in their path - scratching, smashing, ripping at anything they could reach. Harry grunted as he had to switch his stance back to defense, raising his own shields against the horde of spirits that had been called forth. He could feel his energy leaving him, the last vestiges of his might going to numbing the agony of his broken bones and torn flesh. His wand rattled in his holster, beckoning him to screw the rules, use magic in combination with sorcery. He banished these thoughts from his mind, conjuring a sparking ring around his waist, which grew and rose over him. He roared in pain as he threw the construct, which split in mid-air, a dozen shards flying through the air like a cloud of death. The spirits moaned in agony as they were ripped apart.

"Harry! Down!" Stephen yelled, and Harry ducked just as an inky black spear shot right through where his head was not a second before. He shuddered as a chill enveloped him. From the portal came a platoon of skeletons, clad in thick armour, all but one of whom were holding spears identical to the one sent his way. Harry groaned, raising Dragonfang in a shaking hand, as Hamir and Lao stood either side of him. The skeletons charged, as did Harry and Lao. Hamir performed a complex movement, and the ground seemed to open up, as three great tentacles burst through the rocky floor, ripping some of the undead creatures off the ground, flailing them in the air like ragdolls. Harry ducked under the spear thrust of the first, breaking its ribcage with a kick and slicing it down the middle with his sword. Lao split-kicked two, tendrils of magic emanating from his feet into the bones. It spread through them like a virus, the tendrils leaving a web-like pattern as it ripped the bones apart piece by piece, leaving only piles of lumpy dust.

"You have got to teach me that one," Harry said, downing another skeleton with a spinning disc.

"Focus on not dying," Lao shot back, flipping over Harry to axe-kick one of the tentacles that was creeping up on Harry.

Morgana seethed with fury, flicking through the pages again. "Let's see how you handle THIS!" she screeched, eyes turning pitch black as a swarm of giant insects burst from the Darkhold. Locusts. Huge, grey locusts, each the size of his hand, eyes blood red. Harry wanted to throw up, though if that was due to the insects or the blood loss and broken bones, he didn't know. He swatted at them as they got close to him, but there were just too many. They surrounded all the sorcerers, razor-sharp mandibles outstretched. A loud buzzing noise began to fill his ears as they surrounded him, the feeling of spindly legs upon legs as they land and brush by him making a shudder go down his back. The blades that were their mandibles was jabbed and stung at him with the force of a hundred wasps, and he let out a cry as he felt them begin to burrow into his wounds. The feeling of the demonic locusts crawling literally under his skin was almost enough to make him retch again. They tore at his skin, pulling the wounds wider and wider as they dug towards his bloodstream. He clawed at himself, trying to rip them out of him, yet every time he did, another replaced it in an instant.

"Get away from him," an eerily calm voice boomed, and a second later, Harry was engulfed in a golden plume of the brightest flame he'd ever seen. His skin cleared of the pestilence the moment it engulfed him, but all he felt was a light tingle. Didn't Professor Flitwick mention something about a Flame-Freezing charm? But he said it was 3rd year magic, and there's no way he, or any of the sorcerers with him could have cast that. He looked around to see the locusts dispersing, frantically buzzing away from the great blazing torch, which, he saw, was coming from Wong's relic, the Wand of Watoomb. Wong jerked his head, and Harry stood behind him, allowing Hamir to close his wounds.

"Friendly Fire. Torches all but those I consider allies," Wong explained curtly, before turning the Wand to Morgana, who crossed her forearms in front of her. The fire crashed onto an emerald barrier that formed in front of her. Harry could see the signs of strain on her once calm face. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration, as she glanced at the tome in her hand. It seemed to respond to her thoughts, as it opened to a new page, and glowed orange.

Harry looked around to see what had happened, but he could see no signs of any effect, until… "Wong! Look out!"

The Librarian Sorcerer tried to take a step back, but found his feet trapped in a rising column of amber. He turned his wand on his growing prison, attempting to melt it away, but it seemed to only grow faster. Within seconds, Wong was caught in a 6 foot tall slab of amber, shock, rage and confusion preserved on his face. Stephen cracked his knuckles, opening the Eye of Agamotto. As he began the spell to reverse the process, Morgana turned on him, firing a streak of green lightning at him. Harry, Lao and Hamir all threw up shields at once. The bolt pierced through the first two, but the strength it required to do this meant it fell short of Hamir's. Hamir forced the shield forward, melding it into a dome which encased her, rapidly shrinking. She drew a long, obsidian knife, cutting through the mystical construct with seeming ease. "It will take more than that, cripple," she growled. The darkhold glowed black in her arms, and she laughed, disappearing in a poof of smoke. Harry heard a *thump*, and Hamir fell forwards. Morgana had used the power of the Darkhold to teleport behind him and-

*crack*

Lao screamed in pain, Morgana's sharp shoe heel embedded in his knee.

Harry whirled around, keeping his arms up and his ears sharp.

Poof

Harry ducked under Morgana's swinging foot, retaliating with a kick of his own.

Poof

She appeared right in front of him, sucker-punching him in the face.

Poof.

To his left, kneeing him in the ribs.

Poof.

Behind him again, kicking him in the small of his back.

Poof.

"Gah!" Harry turned to see Stephen's outstretched hand curled around Morgana's ankle. He had freed Wong, who looked madder than ever. He lifted Morgana's chin with the wand of Watoomb, and twisted it, a blue bolt of electricity coursing through her. She roared, a pulse of raw power forcing all the sorcerers back.

"You cannot stop me. Anything you can do, I can counter with this. The power of creation and destruction is in my hands, and you think a handful of wannabe magicians can stop my rise?" her nostrils were flared, her eyes were wide, her clothes torn and scorched. Harry could see the signs of madness creeping up on her. "You can't! I am Morgan Le Fay! The greatest sorceress in history!" she flicked through the Darkhold, letting its power run through her again. Her feet left the ground as the dark energy of the tome emanated from her like a dark star.

Stephen, Lao, Wong and Hamir all dropped into identical stances, and began casting a spell so complex, Harry could barely follow their movements, let alone copy. Their bodies shone with orange light, sparks of plasma forming as their hands began to vibrate.

"Harry," Stephen grunted between gritted teeth. "I'm gonna need you to stand in front of us, and cast the strongest spell you know,"

"Wh- alright," Harry rolled his shoulders, glaring up at Morgana.

"I won't lie to you, this is gonna hurt. But I promise, you'll be okay," Stephen said, his voice wavering with something Harry couldn't identify.

Harry nodded, his fear completely gone. "I'm ready," he steeled himself, beginning the ornate gestures he learned in Kamar-Taj. He felt the energies of the multiverse coalesce within him, and leave through the foci that were his hands. His fingers weaved the cosmic energy into solid power, drawing a shining Mandala which spun gracefully in front of him, the centre of which was pointed at Morgana, like a shimmering Crosshair.

"NOW!" All four learned sorcerers shouted, and one by one, they launched their attacks, not at Morgana, but at Harry. As each blast hit him, he only felt a moment of burning, before he felt something he'd never felt before. It was as if every cell in his body had been supercharged, as if a dam had burst in his spirit, releasing a tidal wave of unfathomable proportions. Then, a second beam struck his back, the same feeling of incredible might washing over him. Then a third time. And a fourth. Harry had never felt so alive, it was as though he was feeling the force of five, rather than just himself. He closed his eyes, taking a single, steadying breath, before pouring every ounce of this newfound energy into his mandala. It spun faster and faster, shining brighter and brighter, until finally, it exploded forwards, gold, orange, yellow beams spiralling around each other.

Morgana met the blast, a deranged grin on her lips. A grin which disappeared almost as quickly as her shield did. One hand pushed against the blast, the Darkhold flicking open in the other. In a fit of desperation, she cast the first spell she laid eyes on.

A wave of terror overtook everyone in the dungeon. A crack appeared in the air behind her. A crack which widened, revealing a vast expanse of nothingness on the other side. Some of the nothing appeared to come out of the crack, extending into a hand-shaped hole in the fabric of reality. Morgana clawed at the ground, trying to pull herself away from the… whatever it was, or wasn't… but to no avail. The nothingness wrapped around her, and began pulling her back through the crack.

"Wait! Please! Help me! You can't subject me to this! None deserve this! Please, help!"

Harry shuddered, taking a step towards her and putting a hand on her wrist. "Swear you'll teach me to cheat death," he muttered, his lips barely moving.

"What? Ch-cheat death?!" Morgana spluttered, her other hand dropping the Darkhold in an instant, wrapping around his arm.

"You heard me. Promise to teach me how to revive the dead properly, and I'll save you,"

She looked at him as if he'd asked her to kill God. "It's impossible. Nobody can truly bring back the dead, not even me. Please, I'll do anything else, just please don't let me go through there!"

Harry closed his eyes, drawing Dragonfang from his waist. Without a word, he brought it down, severing Morgana's arm. The non-thing pulled her into the void, her screams echoing as she was pulled further and further into the infinite endless nothing, the crack sealing seconds later.

Harry turned, shivering. "I… couldn't..." his legs gave out as his vision went black. He tasted blood, and knew no more.

Well damn, that was a long long while. All I can say is I'm sorry. And I hope that this longer chapter will make up for the nearly year-long wait.

Before we get to the expected Corona stuff, a lighter note. Congrats to Maximus Potter, who was the first to figure out the answer to last year's riddle, which was that the man had hiccups and The bartender scared them out of him!

Now is time for your new riddle. Turn me on my side and I am everything. Halve me and I am nothing. What am I?

Thank you everyone for over 1000 reviews and over 4000 followers! Your support means so much!

So, elephant in the quarantine. Welcome to the end-times.

First things first, thank you to all the healthcare workers and key workers who are risking everything to help out the most vulnerable members of our society, and keep the world ticking over. Without you, we'd be in much deeper shit right now.

As for everyone else, thank you for doing your civic duty. Thank you for staying indoors. Thank you for limiting how much you go out as much as you can. I know how hard this is for everyone. Believe me, I know. This is not an easy time, but with your support and solidarity, we can flatten the curve and help out healthcare services cope. If you are able to, I urge you to lend a helping hand to those who need it in this time. Call your parents and grandparents, maybe give care packages to elderly and vulnerable people in your community. If you can, perhaps donate to the WHO, your local Red Cross, or any other charities doing incredible work to save lives. Tragedy can bring out the best or the worst in people. Please, put your best foot forward, be positive, be smart, be careful, and stay safe. I love you guys.