Grindelwald sat in his secluded cell, the cold walls of Nurmengard looming around him like a cage that had become all too familiar. Once the most feared dark wizard of his time, now he was a mere prisoner, isolated from the world he once sought to dominate. Yet, despite the chains that bound him physically, his mind was far from dormant. The visions that had once filled his dreams, the prophecies of a future shaped by his hands, were still etched deeply in his thoughts.
In his youth, Grindelwald had seen the world—both magical and Muggle—collapsing in on itself, devoured by its own weaknesses and conflicts. He had foreseen a future of destruction, a future in which neither wizards nor Muggles survived the chaos. It was this vision that had driven him to pursue his vision of the "greater good." He had believed that by uniting the magical world under his rule, he could prevent this inevitable downfall, save both worlds from their own doom.
But that future had not come to pass. His defeat at the hands of Dumbledore, the failure of his grand vision, had changed everything. For decades now, the visions had persisted in the back of his mind—a constant reminder of what was to come. And yet, in recent years, something had changed. The clarity that once defined his visions had begun to fade. Where once he saw a clear path to destruction, now there was only fog. The future, once certain, was now shrouded in uncertainty. All he could see in his dreams were the red, glowing eyes of something far more terrifying than any force he had ever encountered.
The red eyes haunted him, filling his once-steady mind with unease. They appeared in every vision, watching, waiting. He did not know what they meant, but their presence signaled a shift in the course of destiny. No longer could he see the destruction of the magical world as he once had. No longer could he plan and maneuver to avert the catastrophe he had foreseen. Now, all he knew was that something—or someone—had changed the future.
Grindelwald had always prided himself on his ability to see the threads of fate and manipulate them to his advantage. But now, for the first time in his life, he felt powerless. The variable that had entered his visions—this unknown factor—was beyond his comprehension. It was as though the future had been rewritten, and he was no longer the author of its outcome.
Restless and frustrated, Grindelwald knew he could not sit idly by. Though his power had diminished, his influence had not. He still had followers—loyal disciples known as the "Saints"—scattered across the world, hidden in the shadows, waiting for his command. They had been quiet for years, operating under the radar, but now was the time to call them to action once more.
Summoning his limited magical strength, Grindelwald sent a call to his most trusted followers. It was subtle, a ripple of magic that only the Saints would recognize. Within days, messages began to flow back to him through the secret channels they had established long ago. His Saints, though scattered, had not forgotten their master's teachings. They responded quickly, pledging their loyalty and readiness.
In a clandestine meeting, Grindelwald outlined his instructions. "There is something," he said, his voice hoarse from years of disuse but still commanding. "A force I do not yet understand. It has altered the course of the future, and it will shape both the magical and Muggle worlds in ways we cannot yet comprehend."
His Saints listened intently, though some exchanged uneasy glances. They had known their master to be a man of certainty, of vision, and now here he was, admitting his own confusion.
"I need information," Grindelwald continued. "Investigate everything—both magical and Muggle worlds. Look for anomalies, for anything out of the ordinary. I do not know what form this variable will take, but I know it exists. We must find it before it becomes a threat to our cause."
The Saints nodded in agreement, understanding the urgency. They knew Grindelwald's visions had never failed him before, and if he was concerned, it meant something dangerous was indeed on the horizon.
As his followers dispersed, Grindelwald was left alone in his cell once more. His thoughts turned to the past, to the days when his visions had been clear, when he had believed himself capable of reshaping the world. How had it come to this? How had his grand vision for the future been reduced to a foggy mess of uncertainty and red eyes?
He remembered his younger days, the days when he and Dumbledore had shared dreams of revolution. They had spoken of the "greater good," of wizards taking their rightful place as the rulers of the world. But those dreams had crumbled, torn apart by Dumbledore's eventual rejection of their ideals. The duel that had ended their friendship had been the turning point, not just for Grindelwald, but for the entire magical world.
Since then, Grindelwald had faced countless obstacles. His rise to power had been met with resistance, not only from Dumbledore but from within his own ranks. He had fought against a world that refused to see his vision for what it was: salvation. And now, even in his old age, even after his defeat, he was facing an enemy he could not see, a future he could not predict.
The red eyes continued to haunt him. What were they? A person? A creature? Something more? Grindelwald knew that whatever they represented, it was the key to understanding the changes in the future. His Saints were his last hope. He had tasked them with uncovering the truth, but he knew it would not be easy. The magical world had grown more unpredictable in recent years, and the Muggle world, with its technological advancements, was becoming harder to control.
Alaric Black: A New Variable
Though Grindelwald did not yet know it, the variable he sensed in his visions was none other than Alaric Black. The young boy, with his unique connection to ancient magic and his awareness of multiple realities, was beginning to shift the balance of the world in ways even he did not fully understand.
Grindelwald's restlessness was not without cause. The timeline was no longer fixed, and Alaric's actions—whether intentional or not—were beginning to affect the fabric of both the magical and Muggle worlds. As the Saints began their search for answers, Alaric's presence would soon become known to them, marking the beginning of a new era of conflict and uncertainty.
For now, however, both Alaric and Grindelwald remained unaware of the roles they would play in each other's fates. But the red eyes, the fog, and the variable in the visions were only the beginning of what was to come.
The future, once so certain in Grindelwald's mind, was now a battlefield of unknown possibilities.