The Concept of the Human Body

Location: Ottery St Catchpole, Lovegood Family Home

Date: June 23, 1989

      The Lovegood household was steeped in a serene atmosphere. No extraneous noises—just the chirping of birds and the rustle of the wind. The weather was sunny and warm, with summer just beginning to assert itself.       Sunlight bathed a peculiarly shaped tower, its upper half seemingly bent and frozen in that position. But who could fathom the ways of wizards? This tower was the home of the Lovegood family.       Inside, the ambiance was even more enchanting. Magic flowed through the shelves, books, and various objects within the structure. An enchanted clock ticked softly and pleasantly. Dishes washed themselves and stacked neatly on the drying rack. Photographs frolicked, and portraits chatted among themselves. Pure idyll.       In the living room, three people were present: Xenophilius Lovegood, his wife Pandora Lovegood, and their daughter, Luna Lovegood.       Little Luna was only eight years old. Her white hair reflected the sunlight, and her silvery-gray eyes sparkled with joy and delight. She played with enchanted, hand-drawn butterflies, catching and releasing them to prolong her amusement.       She loved being in the company of her parents. It was so comforting for her—a peaceful family atmosphere.       “Another ritual?” Xenophilius sighed, posing a question that made Luna pause her game. The word “ritual” was synonymous with “risk” for the girl, as rituals were a complex and forbidden discipline. She worried for her mother, though she knew Pandora always succeeded.       “Yes! I’ve calculated everything,” Pandora replied, pulling out papers and pointing to a specific line.       “If all goes smoothly, we’ll summon a familiar for Luna without alerting the Ministry’s Oversight!” Luna’s mother declared proudly, puffing out her chest.       “These idiotic laws…” Xenophilius muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He lacked the influence to challenge the new laws passed by Millicent Bagnold—or rather, the Council of Lords, alongside Dumbledore and former Death Eaters. The recent war had only worsened things, and now any ritual was deemed dark by the Ministry. At this rate, they’d ban magic altogether… which wouldn’t be surprising, considering who was in power. For “dark magic,” they now sent people to Azkaban without trial or investigation.       “Yes, idiotic, but I’m certain it’ll work!” Pandora exclaimed softly. She loved rituals—their glow, the symbols, the Latin. That was why she cherished this dangerous discipline.       “Luna, are you excited?” she asked her daughter. A radiant smile spread across the younger Lovegood’s face. Standing from her chair, she walked to her mother and hugged her. It looked comical, as Luna only reached her mother’s navel.       “I’m super, super excited!” she replied cheerfully, embracing Pandora. The latter smiled warmly and stroked her daughter’s head. They were a perfect family, straight out of a fairy tale.       The elder Lovegood was always cheerful and vibrant, even in the face of setbacks.       She didn’t despair over a failed spell creation; instead, she began recalculating to fix the error. Determined and incredibly persistent.       “Let’s go!” the mother said, and she and her daughter exited through the door, heading toward the basement stairs.       The head of the family remained on the couch, reading the newspaper and sipping tea. He was confident nothing would go wrong. Besides, he knew a ritual of this level was best left undisturbed, even if it was just summoning a familiar.       Meanwhile, the female half of the family descended the dusty stone steps of the basement. Beetles scuttled along the walls, and spiders wove webs in the corners. A Muggle incandescent bulb hung forlornly from the ceiling, swaying on a thin wire. How did it function in a magical environment? One word—runes. Some collected magic and converted it to electricity, while others, placed along the wires and bulb, shielded it from the magical aura.       At the bottom of the stairs stood an old wooden door with a ring instead of a handle, emitting a faint blue glow from beneath. It was so alluring, as if beckoning them to enter.       Reaching the door, Pandora opened it and let her daughter inside.       Luna gasped in awe. On the floor glowed an octogram, shimmering between blue and white light. A dizzying array of complex constructs, enough to give an unprepared person a headache, made up most of the relatively small ritual circle. Just five meters in diameter—an absolute standard.       This makeshift ritual chamber was immaculate. No beetles, no spiders—just beauty and cleanliness. Such intricate constructs demanded near-sterile conditions to avoid errors, which often proved fatal for the ritual’s conductor.       “Daughter,” Luna tore her gaze from the ritual and looked at her mother, who wore a serious expression.       “Before we begin, promise me you’ll never tell anyone what happens here,” Pandora said, staring into her daughter’s eyes. Luna had never seen her mother so grave. She was always cheerful and lively, and this contrast was deeply unsettling.       “I-I promise…” the younger Lovegood said, her voice tinged with nervousness. She’d never been asked to do something seriously—only in playful contexts. But this was a genuine promise.       “Excellent!” Pandora said, her face returning to its usual cheerful demeanor. The seriousness vanished from her eyes, as if it had never been there.       “Come on, I’ll show you where to stand!” She waved, beckoning Luna to follow. They reached the far corner of the ritual chamber. On one of the octogram’s vertices leading to this corner was a triangle, surrounded by numerous runic constructs and small mini-rituals designed to stabilize the main ritual. All to avoid detection by the Ministry…       “Stand here,” Pandora instructed, and Luna promptly obeyed, stepping into the center of the triangle and standing ramrod straight.       “Good, now we’ll begin,” the mother murmured, and from one of the basement passages, vegetables and fruits slowly floated in.       “These will replace sacrifices. The triangle you’re standing in will scan you, and the most suitable familiar will come to you!” the elder Lovegood explained. Luna understood maybe thirty percent of her words, but that only heightened her curiosity.       The fruits landed on small circles inscribed within the octogram. Pandora stepped to the far corner and closed her eyes. Magic swirled around her in a spiral, so dense it was visible to the naked eye. The woman muttered something in Latin.       Suddenly, the offerings, acting as sacrifices, burst into flames and crumbled to ash. The density of magic intensified, and sweat beaded on Pandora’s forehead. Manipulating such volumes of energy wasn’t an everyday task.       According to the mother’s plan, the ritual should have ended right then, after the offerings vanished, but it didn’t stop. Pandora began to gray visibly. She was withering under the influence of an untested ritual.       Searching for rituals in scraps of books was utterly reckless. This ritual was pieced together from fragments of others… The chance of failure was nearly certain! (Author’s note: In probability theory, probability is measured from 0 to 1, so expressing it in percentages is incorrect.)       With her last strength, the elder Lovegood opened her eyes and shouted:       “Luna! Run!” After those words, the girl froze but, within seconds, darted out of the triangle and rushed toward the exit, passing her suffering mother’s body.       Reaching the door, she remembered the key to the basement was with her mother. Pandora had locked the door to prevent interference. After a couple of futile attempts to open it, Luna gave up, exhausted, and sat on the cold stone floor, watching her mother rapidly wither. She didn’t try to save Pandora, knowing she couldn’t. “Closing” part of the ritual was possible, but she feared making things worse…       In ten seconds, the elder Lovegood turned to ash and scattered across the room. Luna began to sob, clutching her knees. All sounds ceased.       A white flash, and in the center of the octogram, a meter above the floor, a black hole appeared. Just a black dot in space, capable of bringing immense calamity. Luna loved to read and knew what it was. Her father sometimes brought Muggle books, all kinds, but she especially loved those about space, which described this undeniably terrifying phenomenon.       A black hole with a yellow event horizon. It warped the space of their basement, making everything seem slightly twisted and distorted. It pulsed quietly. Each pulse created ripples in space that slowly spread and dissolved, as if they’d never existed, as if it were all a delusion. But no… this was reality… The silence in the basement was deafening, making the black hole’s pulses seem thunderous.       Suddenly, the pulses quickened. The spatial distortion intensified, and the ripples grew larger, as if the pulse’s power had increased. Near the hole, strange text appeared, like a dialogue between two eerily similar beings. It was in English, but its appearance was odd, as if from the future.       The text read:       — [matter collection?] [no need…] [ugh… host search…] [search in progress…] [host found successfully!] [execute!]       After this bizarre text, which flashed by in less than five seconds, the hole contracted. The ripples vanished, as did the pulses, and for a moment, it was as silent as a graveyard.       An instant later, the hole shot into Luna’s chest at tremendous speed, shattering her ribs and grinding her organs into pulp. Blood vessels and rib fragments protruded from the remnants of her chest. At the center glowed the same black hole, using orange tendrils to seize control of the girl’s entire nervous system.       She couldn’t even scream… or breathe… Every attempt to speak brought only pain and a horrific gurgling. Her lungs were gone, reduced to a bloody mush, like the rest of her organs and bones.       The force of the hole’s impact slammed Luna’s back against the wall. Her spine couldn’t withstand it and snapped… The hole warped gravity itself, tearing chunks from the girl’s body.       The distortion was so severe that her left arm twisted unnaturally, while her right arm lay in the opposite corner of the basement, bleeding profusely. Her abdomen was reduced to a lump of flesh, as was one leg. The flesh pulsed, and blood trickled from exposed vessels.       Luna was still alive but utterly helpless. Every thought brought a fresh wave of agony. She watched blood pour from her body in streams. She no longer felt her chest or much of her body, but the remaining parts burned with pain, especially her head. It felt like someone was scalping her alive while searing the wound with red-hot coals… Where did such associations come from?       The girl held on for a long time, with magic trying to help, but in the end, she gave up. Before dying, she managed to mouth her final word. Speaking with a destroyed chest was impossible…       “Mom…” was the last thing Luna Lovegood said. Her soul sought to move on to reincarnation, but it was forbidden. The black hole transferred her soul to her head and anchored it there. Luna wouldn’t die until the Hole willed otherwise.

۞⦰۞

Planet: Copper-9

Location: One of the Floating Islands

Date and Time: 16th of Seramorris, 3071. 28:04

      On a fragment of a once-living planet, the fiercest battle in this world’s history raged. The world was small, but its beings were immensely powerful—there was no other way to describe it.       Astonishingly, only four… people… participated in this battle. No, not people—four robots with ambiguous abilities. What abilities could a robot have? All sorts, especially in this world. From basic regeneration to creating singularities in their hands capable of stripping atmospheres from planets!       The singularity looked like a black hole with the word [NULL] at its center. It had an event horizon, its color depending on who created it.       Only three fought at full strength, while the fourth toyed with them, like a cat with a cornered mouse. She—for it was a she—was certain her victims could offer no resistance, as she was their progenitor. She had given two of the three new, superior bodies. The third… the third inherited the progenitor’s ability…       During the battle, the three threw everything into the fight—missiles, singularities, regular bullets, and more. They didn’t realize they were being toyed with… didn’t understand they were doomed to become her puppets in the future, as they had been before.       Before… Before, the progenitor had full control over them, but now… Now she couldn’t even resist being “captured” by one of her descendants… Horrifying…       A robot with purple eyes on her display dodged a strike from a massive claw at the last moment. She was lucky to spot the attack, despite its speed exceeding two Machs. This robot was called Uzi. And it wasn’t a he, but a she.       The blow only grazed her allies, but she knew they’d be fine—their regeneration would restore everything except their cores, and damaging the core of a murder machine with such a scattered strike was next to impossible. Even extracting the core didn’t guarantee death. Only its destruction or irreparable damage would suffice. That was the formula for victory.       Cores replaced their hearts, like those of the extinct humanity. Uzi was unlucky—she was a descendant of the progenitor, making her different from her kin. Instead of a metallic core, she had a chunk of flesh on legs, literally, with a metallic casing inside. But there was one upside. If her core somehow ended up outside her chest, she could escape, controlling the core like her body, as described above.       Though, there was a slim chance of turning into a giant centipede and devouring her kin… Good thing the odds were low, right?       Tripping over debris left from the planet’s destruction, Uzi began to fall backward, flailing her arms comically to regain balance. At that moment, the progenitor made her next move. A teleportation, and within a second, she was half a meter from Uzi, arm outstretched for a sneaky but highly effective attack. She aimed to rip out the purple-eyed drone’s core and consume it, as she had with her previous descendant, still digesting in her stomach. Red-eyed Doll… A worthy successor to her mother, who inherited much of the progenitor’s power. Pity she was already dead.       Her appearing right in front of Uzi was a feint, a maneuver. The next second, she began teleporting. “Began,” because even with her power, teleportation wasn’t instantaneous. It took about twenty-five milliseconds to vanish and another twenty-five to reappear. Fortunately, distance didn’t affect it.       Uzi saw Cyn, the progenitor, preparing to teleport. Yellow static flickered over her, growing rapidly. Memories of the first time her core was torn from her chest flashed in Uzi’s mind. That, too, involved teleportation… combined with immense speed. Back then, Cyn had teleported behind her, meaning Uzi could outsmart the system with a bold knight’s move.       As Cyn vanished in yellow static, Uzi spun around instantly, thrusting her left hand forward, palm spread, and squeezing her eyes shut. She positioned her foot to maintain balance and avoid falling into the abyss.       In mere milliseconds, Cyn reappeared… right at Uzi’s hand, perfectly positioned so her core was in the purple-eyed drone’s grasp. But Uzi’s streak of luck wasn’t about to fade.       A second of staring, and Uzi tore out Cyn’s core with flesh and chunks of casing, immediately activating a black hole with clear intent to do something defying logic. And that “something” happened. The black hole pierced the planet, and sunlight, streaming through the hole, struck Cyn’s core, literally incinerating it. The core’s fleshy legs twitched, rapidly disintegrating under the sunlight. All this unfolded to the sounds of agony from thousands of living beings. Those beings were humans…       But… No one, not even Cyn, expected the core—a singularity with a yellow event horizon—to vanish in a dim white flash, leaving nothing behind. Absolutely nothing. Once the casing was gone, the true core simply disappeared.       Cyn’s body, a robot clad in human skin, began to melt. First her head, then her arms, legs… and finally her torso. In ten seconds, only ribs remained where Cyn had stood—the ribs of the one she’d dismembered to wear her skin as a costume.       Deprived of the progenitor’s sustenance, massive halo-tentacles vanished, releasing the floating islands. They began drifting slowly toward the planet.       When the islands landed, everyone would celebrate victory over the mightiest being, and no one would recall that the core was still alive, but no longer part of their world…