*Narrator pov*
With a series of loud cracks, the Aurors apparated onto the scene, their robes billowing and wands drawn ready for combat. The team that apparated to the area where Moody was injured first saw the figure of Morpheus crouched beside their comrade, "Get away from him!" one shouted dangerously close to firing a spell off at Morpheus not knowing he was dangerously close to death
Morpheus stood, "Finally you showed up stop pointing your wands at me fools," he looked down at the heavily injured Auror, "I think Auror moody could use a healer,"
A couple of the Aurora recognized Morpheus and quickly put their wands away and hurried toward Auror Moody, "His pulse is weak," one of the Aurors cursed, "Angela can you do a quick fix before a healer arrives,"
Angela a blond Auror quickly brandished her wand and began to mutter while flicking and swiping her wand around specific wounds.
The lacerations around Moody's arms began to stop bleeding but not closing sadly Anglea wasn't good enough of a healer for that.
While they dealt with Moody's wounds the others still looked warily at Morpheus who began to walk away, "Stop!" one of them yelled, "We need to take your statement about what happened here today,"
Morpheus looked at them and smiled softly, "I would love to stay but, I am late for an appointment please set up an appointment where I can give a full statement. My name is Morpheus Everglade, Lord of the Everglade family."
"Lord or not you must give your statement!"
"I'll be in touch," Morpheus said before disappearing with a pop
***
As one would expect the media went wild the next day, unsurprisingly there were some varying opinions on what transpired in Diagon Alley. The papers untouched by political intrigue were saying a new dark lord was among us however some papers like The Prophet only threw that out as a theory and mentioned other outlandish theories.
Morpheus doubted this was Tom's doing the man hardly had a grip on the papers yet. Instead, he was of the thought the minister was the cause of this misinformation.
The problem with people like the current minister who didn't want to scare the public was the fact that not informing the public was hurting the overall safety of the people. Sadly, many in the know doubted the minister would change his mind, he was too worried about a second war on the same scale as Grindelwald to do anything without concrete proof.
Early the next morning Morpheus did receive a letter from the Aurors office to give his statement which he happily replied to indicating the appropriate time.
The meeting was short and sweet Morpheus told them what he saw excluding the fact he made his way in after the attack.
He did tell them about some of the men he killed not wanting to sound like he hid and waited. Of course, the Aurors couldn't charge anyone who defended themselves during the attack.
Shortly after the meeting, Morpheus returned to his manor and picked up a portkey.
*pop*
****
From his vantage point atop a rocky cliff, Morpheus gazed down at the compound with a heavy scowl etched on his face. The island of Hawaii spread out below him, a stunning contrast of lush greenery and cerulean waves crashing against the shoreline. But the beauty of the island was marred, in his eyes, by the presence of the magical compound.
Nestled amidst towering palm trees and vibrant tropical flora, the compound sprawled like a parasite on the land. High stone walls, shimmering faintly with protective enchantments, encircled the area, cutting off any uninvited guests. The main building, an imposing structure of volcanic rock and dark wood, loomed at the center, its windows glowing with an eerie, otherworldly light. Surrounding it were smaller buildings—workshops, dormitories, and greenhouses—each one buzzing with activity and magic.
Winding pathways, paved with iridescent stones, snaked through the compound, connecting the various buildings and leading to hidden corners where secrets and whispers thrived. Even from this distance, Morpheus could sense the powerful wards and charms woven into the very fabric of the place, designed to keep intruders out and ensure that whatever happened inside remained a mystery to the outside world.
To the casual observer, the compound might have seemed like a paradise, a place of grandeur. But Morpheus knew better. He could feel the dark undercurrents of power and ambition that permeated the air, like a storm gathering on the horizon. The island's natural beauty, with its cascading waterfalls and vibrant hibiscus blooms, only served to highlight the stark, oppressive atmosphere of the compound.
As he stood there, the wind ruffling his cloak, Morpheus's scowl deepened. He had come to this place for a reason, and he would not leave until the compound was razed to the ground.
Morpheus narrowed his eyes at the compound clicking his tongue in mild frustration. As he expected there was clearly a portal point here but, whoever was in charge of this area clearly had more brains than the ones he visited before.
It wasn't surprising really, if the demons managed to take the island then they could have a solid grasp on Earth. With there being so few wizards and witches in this area the siege would hardly take any effort Morpheus speculated it would all be over in a day.
Bending down Morpheus took out a ritual dagger and a solid block of wood it was a pain for him to have to complete this ritual here and not have it prepared seeing as he needed a clear sight and objective for the magical construct.
Settling onto the floor, Morpheus gripped the block of wood firmly. He envisioned the final product in his mind's eye: a golem-like creature, fierce and monstrous, imbued with the raw power of malice with one purpose it being destruction. He closed his eyes for a moment, steadying his breath, letting the image crystallize in his thoughts.
With the first deliberate cut of the dagger, he began to shape the block. The wood resisted initially, but as Morpheus applied more pressure, it yielded, splinters flying as he carved deep, purposeful strokes. Each slice of the blade was a step closer to manifesting the beast.
He started with the torso, roughing out the broad, hulking form of the creature. The wood seemed to transform under his skilled hands, taking on a rough texture that mimicked the gnarled hide of a monster. Next, he moved to the limbs, fashioning powerful, clawed appendages that would eventually bear the weight of the golem.
Morpheus's concentration never wavered. He worked methodically, his dagger dancing across the wood, coaxing out every detail of the beast's form. The head came last, a grotesque visage with jagged features and menacing, hollow eyes. He etched in rows of sharp, uneven teeth, the maw open in a silent snarl.
Time slipped by unnoticed, the only sound the steady rasp of the dagger against wood. Finally, Morpheus sat back, wiping sweat from his brow. Before him stood the completed golem, an imposing figure of wood that seemed almost alive in its stillness.
He traced a series of runes along its surface, the final touch to complete the ritual. The air around him shimmered with latent energy, and he felt the familiar surge of magic flowing through his veins. With a murmured incantation, he pressed his palm against the golem's chest, infusing it with the spark of life.
The wooden beast shuddered, its eyes flaring with a dull, otherworldly glow. Slowly, it straightened, and the trees and earth around him began moving toward the small golem expanding its size.
Finally, the golem stood tall towering over Morpheus, it was ready to serve.