Harry Potter and the Surprisingly Competent History of Magic Professor Chapter 330 330: Darkness

Cassian's knees buckled, and he hit the stone hard. The air felt heavy, like the atmosphere was trying to pin his chest into the dirt. He pushed against the ground, his arms shaking. Breathing felt like sucking air through wet wool.

Deep under the ruined temple, sothing roared. It was as if the tectonic plates were grinding together. The hillside vibrated so hard his teeth rattled in his skull.

Release us.

Cassian flinched and swore under his breath. The words hadn't co through his ears. They bypassed his senses entirely, echoing right inside his head.

He dragged himself up onto his elbows, squinting through the dust. Edevane was on her hands and knees, gasping for air. Leontis was slumped against a collapsed wall, clutching a bleeding arm. Ayda lay still next to the fractured ward lines. Nobody was talking.

Release us.

Cassian squeezed his eyes shut. "Shut up."

Release us.

The voice didn't belong to the monster waking up under the temple. That thing was just pure, mindless hate. This voice was different, chilling and expectant.

Lord, release us.

Cassian froze. His heart hamred against his ribs. Lord?

He frantically searched for the source. His gaze swept past the fading wards and the ruined trees, looking for a telepath or so hidden Covenant mber. Nothing. The hillside was empty.

The voice pulsed again. It ca from his own chest.

Cassian swallowed a mouthful of dust. He pulled his focus back, dragging it inward. He pushed past his own frantic magic and his racing heart. Deep down, in a corner of his soul he usually ignored, he hit a wall of absolute, freezing cold.

A sphere of pure darkness sat there.

His breath hitched. He hovered at the edge of the dark, terrified to look closer. His mind churned with countless ideas. What was a ball of darkness doing in his chest? Was this so sort of cancer? If so, how the hell did it speak? Was this thing gaining ideas?

He pushed inside anyway.

The darkness rippled. Shapes moved in the gloom... gaunt, hollow outlines that lacked heat or breath. Ranks of black, towering figures stood in perfect silence, staring back at him.

Cassian froze, staring at the familiar shapes. Fuck. He cursed in his mind, the word echoing within the darkness. Right... this was basically in him.

Back in Australia, he'd stepped into Ngaralu's crumbling array because they needed an anchor. Stone doesn't forget, but the original anchors were gone, so he'd offered his own mind as the replacent. He knew his mory couldn't be wiped, so he thought he was just pinning the corners of the seal down. He hadn't realised he was turning his own soul into the damn jar.

The Night Crawlers were living inside him. They stood perfectly still in that dark space, waiting. Cassian rubbed his face, trying to wrap his head around how absurd this was. He'd spent months without magic, stumbling around as a mundane historian with a bad back, and these things had just sat there. They hadn't tried to claw their way out or wreck his sanity when his defences were down. They'd just waited like polite guests. Now, with the earth screaming and a primordial horror waking up, they were finally asking for the door to be opened.

He'd told Nicolas and Perenelle that they didn't feed like Dentors. They erased things. They wiped magic, heat, and mory out of existence. He'd actually wondered if they were the good guys. If the Crown, the thing currently pushing through the Greek bedrock, fed on worship or history, the Crawlers might have been built to starve it. A scorched-earth containnt protocol designed to erase the mory of the Crown and strip its power.

It sounded poetic until he rembered the body count. Night Crawlers had slaughtered hundreds in the outback. Blood Crawlers tore Druids to pieces. White Crawlers butchered Keepers in the Yucatan. Cassian paused. No. Those Keepers had turned out to be Covenant spies, which was convenient. But the massacre in Australia wasn't a coincidence. You don't kill a whole region of innocent people just to redact a footnote. They couldn't be the good guys.

Another roar shuddered through the bedrock, threatening to split the hill wide open. The pressure from the cracked wards felt like a physical weight on his skull. The thing underneath was ancient and furious, and it wanted to break everything.

Lord, release us.

The voice brushed his mind again, completely calm compared to the rage pouring out of the temple. They weren't asking to escape. They were asking to be deployed. They recognised the monster under the stone, and they wanted to do exactly what they were made for.

Cassian shoved the pain aside and hauled his consciousness into the freezing dark. He didn't just peer in this ti, he stepped right through the boundary. The transition dumped him into a lightless void, face to face with the nightmare he'd accidentally swallowed.

"What do you want?" he yelled, his voice echoing in the empty space. "What the hell are you?"

The shapes in the gloom solidified instantly. Rows of towering, hollow figures turned toward him in perfect unison. Then, without a sound, the entire front line dropped. The rows behind followed, a wave of shadows bowing their heads. They knelt in total submission, treating him like a king returning to his throne.

The largest one, the alpha he'd encountered in Australia, stepped forward and lowered its massive head.

Lord, let us help.

The words vibrated in Cassian's bones, carrying a strange, hollow desperation that didn't match their monstrous look.

"Help?" Cassian spat. "Forgive if I don't want to hand you the keys when your track record is just mass murder."

The rot had spread, the creature replied. Its tone had no malice or regret. We cut the diseased thread to save the tapestry. The ones who bled carried the taint of the Crown, knowingly or blindly. We are the erasure. We are the silence that follows the waking.

Rot? Cassian's heart skipped a beat. Ngaralu... tainted? The others too? That didn't make sense. It couldn't make sense. Everything they had done, every decision, had co from what they'd seen.

That had been the truth. Hadn't it?

The Night Crawlers were the first creatures Cassian had ever seen through the interface. The visions had co with Lumos Noctis, dark, suffocating and scary. He had felt it back then, deep in his bones. That had shaped everything after. He'd seen the Night Crawlers and labeled them as the ultimate evil. Dark. Destructive. Monstrous. He, Bathsheda, the Flals, Ayda, and Edevane had all looked at the carnage in Australia and reached the sa conclusion, pity the humans, kill the ugly monsters.

But...

The sa interface had given him light.

Cassian's breath hitched.

That was impossible. It should have been impossible. He was the one who taught it right? Once you used dark magic, you couldn't use light. Once you were tainted, light magic refused you.

He had used Lumos Noctis for years. So why hadn't the light refused him?

Then Ngaralu... the others...

A sick realisation began to form.

Were they dark? Were they sothing else entirely, sothing organised, hidden, like the Covenant?

And if that was true...

Cassian felt the ground beneath give way. Then what, exactly, had he and Flals sealed away?

He stared at the kneeling monster, the pieces finally clicking. They weren't a conquering army or a plague. They were an immune system. A terrifyingly efficient protocol designed to burn the village to stop an infection. And right now, the original disease was cracking the world.

"And the thing waking up under the temple?" Cassian asked.

It is the cancer we were shaped to devour, the Crawler answered, lifting its head to et his gaze. It breaks the world. We break it. But we cannot walk without your tether. You hold the gate, Lord. Open it.

Cassian rubbed his temples, feeling a massive headache coming on. If he opened the gate, he'd unleash a horde of ancient monsters onto a battlefield where his friends were currently bleeding out. If he kept it shut, the horror under the stone would just crush them all anyway.

Brilliant options all around.

He felt like his skull was splitting. It wasn't just the physical pressure from the temple anymore, his own thoughts were turning into thick, sluggish sludge. The freezing cold of the void inside him started to numb his limbs and drag his consciousness into the dark.

He was losing. The primordial rage was crushing his body, while the absolute stillness of the Crawlers was drowning his soul. The more he questioned, the more he sank.

Then, a sharp throb burned against his skin. The rune on his finger pulsed, a searing heat that cut through the sub-zero void like a brand.

"Cass."

The voice didn't co from the void or the monster under the temple. It was familiar and sounded like ho.

"Cassian. The Crawlers. They're here to help."

Bathsheda.

The confusion that had been paralyzing him vanished.

The heat from the rune surged, spreading from his hand up his arm and exploding into his chest. The oppressive, lightless dark stopped being a tomb and started feeling like a weapon. The strength that had been draining out of him rushed back in a white-hot flood, pinning his soul back into place.

Cassian snapped his eyes open within the darkness.

***

On Bathsheda's side, the ruined temple was doing its best to crush the life out of them. The air had turned into a physical weight, a suffocating pressure that didn't just target the body but also the soul. Bathsheda was on her knees, her lungs burning as she fought to draw a breath. Around her, the others were in the sa state. Citlali was doubled over, gasping, and Teo looked like he was being pressed into the dirt by an invisible hand.

The pyramid groaned again, a deep, tectonic sound that made the ground shudder.

"We have to go," Ji managed to choke out, straining just to get his feet under him.

Nobody argued, but nobody could move. They were a broken cluster of bodies pinned to the clearing's edge.

That was when Bathsheda saw sothing shifting at the treeline.

For a single, desperate second, she hoped it was help.

They were white, almost translucent, a colour sowhere between pearl and ice. They erged from the trees slowly, more than a dozen of them, gliding into the light. Bathsheda froze on the ground, her heart skipping a beat. She knew these creatures.

Except for the colour, the shape was exactly the sa. The ones she'd seen in Australia were dark, a deep, hungry void that drank the light. These were the polar opposite. She'd never seen this colour on them before, she hadn't even known it was possible. Cassian had ntioned seeing two versions in his visions and suspecting a third, but seeing them in the flesh was different.

"Bathsheda," Ji hissed beside her.

"I know," she whispered.

Her wand was already up. Half the warders had theirs raised, knuckles white as they aid at the approaching line.

Crawlers.

The creatures didn't move toward them, though. They simply stopped at the edge of the clearing, forming a perfect, silent ring that faced inward toward the pyramid. The space between the pale figures and the humans stayed exactly the sa as when they'd first erged from the shadows.

The pressure shifted.

It wasn't gone, but the weight on Bathsheda's soul eased just a fraction, the way a heavy hand might loosen its grip without fully lifting. She realised, with a start, that she was breathing more easily than she had been ten seconds ago.

She looked at the ring of pale figures. They were just there, standing like statues between the pyramid and the world outside.

She lowered her wand slowly. "Don't fire," she said, her voice strained.

Xul'al looked at her sharply, her face tight with pain. "What are you-"

"Don't fire," Bathsheda repeated, firr this ti. "Just wait."

The pressure eased again. Another fraction. Then another.

She watched them. Their attention, if that was even the right word for it, was directed entirely at the pyramid. They didn't care about the humans. They didn't care about Ash leaning against Hagrid, or the wounded Keepers, or the captured Covenant mbers. Their entire focus was locked onto the thing stirring inside that stone.

"Oh," Bathsheda whispered.

Xul'al looked between her and the ring of creatures. "What?"

"They're not here for us."

The pressure dropped enough that Citlali finally let out a long, ragged breath. Teo raised his head from his chest and blinked at the sky, the crushing fog in his mind clearing just enough to see. The air was no longer full of stone.

"They helped us," Xul'al said. It wasn't a question.

Ji, standing a few feet away, turned his head toward her.

Xul'al's hands tightened on her staff. "Guardians."

Bathsheda looked back at the clearing, they were holding sothing enormous and awake at bay with nothing but their presence.

Bathsheda's hand went to the rune on her finger. It felt warm. "Cassian needs to know," she murmured. "He needs to know all of it. The Covenant. And the white Crawlers."

She closed her eyes, sending her intent through the link.

"Cass. Crawlers. They're here to help."

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