A decade of progress

Finally done with interrogating Irma, Gaude removed any memories of the procedure and those that she had somehow managed to grab from his mind through some sort of reverse-flow technique from her mind.

For Irma who had started to slip deeper into the state of despair and shock the more those fragmented memories sunk in, being liberated from them was a blessing, even if she would never find out. Even if of little significance, they were Gaude's private moments, his driving force. He wasn't willing to give anyone a share without a damn good reason.

Gaude covered his body with an illusion of his human self, ate a whole roasted sheep that had been put in stasis by the elves who had been waiting for Gaude to wake up, then went to the Floo. His forces were long overdue for an inspection.

However, before he could use the most inconspicuous means of wizarding transport, his gaze fell on the murals on the wall. Memories started surfacing one after another in his mind, causing him to halt his steps. In his years beyond the crack, he had met many people who he had come to respect.

With a thought, Gaude had summoned hundreds of house elves. Since they were creatures strictly inhabiting this world and often prone to using magic, them taking action would draw no attention.

With another thought, the elves were instructed on a hundred and fifty-three murals to carve.

Next was something that he hadn't managed to do for a while now: ensuring that magical means of tracking held no power over him. Gaude had an elf apparate him into one of the secure rooms and set up a small ritual. The main consumable was his own blood – the ritual was to cut off all ties to anything that belonged to him that was a foot away from his body. It was a morning routine for Gaude, unless he was too busy being chased by a horde of creatures.

Twenty minutes later, the chalk lines drawn onto the floor caught fire and burned for another five as the blood in the pearl shells evaporated, forming a mist that spiraled around Gaude before entering through his nostrils.

Gaude then performed a similar ritual on all of the living specimens that he had brought through the rift – it wouldn't do if he was tracked through his latest catch.

Finally done with rudimentary home security, Gaude used the Floo to go to his private military base.

The fact that the facilities had grown in both number and size didn't really surprise him – he had already seen all of it in Irma's memories, knowing the place about as well as Irma did.

Making use of his newly gained knowledge, he quickly navigated to training ground one, where old-timers were sparring to keep their skills sharp. Weapons were clashing at high speeds and an occasional spell was cast when an opening had been created. The grass field that had originally been in the middle of the training area had long since been swapped for sand due to the sparring creating extensive damage to the surroundings.

Gaude didn't see all that many familiar faces. The main cause for that was the fact that every single one of the veterans was using one of the three transformations. The vampire type seemed to be the least prevalent with weredragon and werewolf seeming about equal.

He yelled: "Everyone, get your asses ready for a beating."

The people on the training field put their respective spars on a pause, looking for the person who seemed to have a pair of itchy buttocks.

What they saw was a face from the past – Gaude had yet to remove the illusion concealing his weredragon state.

One of the top rankers said in a gleeful tone: "I was wondering where you disappeared to. Turns out you were just sulking and trying to grow some balls. I had almost forgotten your face, but my fists sure haven't!"

Gaude growled in response: "I said, line up. It'll be less leg work for the healers that way."

After Gaude's words, four werewolves and an eight-foot tall weredragon started moving towards him. Before Gaude's leave of absence, they were all in the top six, and they had at most moved down a position or two once the bloodline potions were made good use of by the rest of the pure human knights.

'I think I should be able to do this unarmed.', Gaude thought, clenching and releasing his fist a few times as if to make sure it was in working condition.

A moment later, the weredragon had unceremoniously jumped him in an attempt to deliver a flying kick, but Gaude simply side-stepped and gave a left hook directly at the man's spine. Gaude's thunder sense had been honed to new heights, allowing him all the leisure in the world against slow opponents.

With a crunch, followed by the most pitiful screaming expression of great pain, the man folded backwards to an unhealthy degree. The four werewolves attacked Gaude at once before the weredragon even hit the sand.

Gaude weaved between the attackers as if they were kindergarteners, avoiding their weapons, spells, claws and bites with minimal effort. Five seconds later, the fight was over, with the werewolves becoming casualties of brutal blows. Their mental state remained relatively intact only because they hadn't noticed that Gaude was using only one hand to deal with them all.

Gaude wasn't even close to satisfied with the performance of the five. By his estimation, none of them would make it past the third week in a medium danger environment. As a team, two months tops before they lost the first member.

He shouted out: "Line up you maggots! I don't have all day to chase you down one at a time!"

With sneers and glints of malice in their eyes, the mixture of part-beings finally formed a circle around Gaude, with a few of them going on the offensive, keeping in mind to not hinder each other with excessive numbers.

Thanks to Gaude's efforts, bodies started piling up. Some of the opponents were easy for Gaude to defeat, but every once in a while, he met those that were nearly capable of keeping up with him at his maximum sustainable speed. It seemed that they were using the wheel tactic, with weaker ones trying their best to whittle Gaude down while the stronger ones tried to finish him off. It was plain wishful thinking on their part.

This time, Gaude quickly realized that he wouldn't be able to win without some extra effort. He drew Hellrouser – his new blade. It was a double-edged sword that looked quite ordinary on the surface. Different from the Dragon's claw, his previous sword, the enchantments were carved onto the core of the blade, hidden from discerning eyes. The blade was three feet long and had a wand built into its core, seamlessly combining sort- and long-range capabilities while minimizing consumption and amplifying damage.

After nearly half of those present were immobilized with various degrees injuries, Gaude said: "You lot almost made me break a sweat. That's barely enough to let you keep your lives. In the next five years, I expect each of you to be able to keep up with four of the current me. Anyone that doesn't, will be executed on the spot." Truthfully, Gaude was soaked from head to toe and his heart was racing in the upper two hundreds. His breath could've given some carbonated drinks a run for their money. Illusions were handy in concealing such minor details.

As for giving his troops a pep-talk to reawaken their enthusiasm for training? Gaude had seen the trends, especially in the worlds that were in the future from his current position. The occurrence of rifts would only become more frequent over time, meaning the probability of dangerous creatures making their way through would increase as well. That was still the predictable scenario. There was always the possibility that some mad experimental breeder brought forth an abomination that would fit right in with what he'd met so far.

It didn't matter if they were still standing or waiting for a healer on the ground, a cold shiver ran down the intact portion of their spines. They all knew that Gaude had the means to make it happen – they all had signed the contracts. It was just that they expected to live out their natural lives without ever encountering the harshest function of the contracts.

Just as he was about to go and personally test the new recruits, he was stopped by a pissed-looking Carter.

"What did you do to my wife? What did you do to Irma?", he asked in a low voice threatening to rain a whole lot of violence upon Gaude. Irma had told him that she had been crying and couldn't remember what had happened for a while after Gaude had woken up.

Gaude replied coolly: "What would you do if somebody made their way into your bedroom while you were asleep and for all you know, held you at gunpoint the entire time after that?"

It took a moment for Carter to grasp Gaude's logic, but as a man who had done plenty of tours overseas, he somewhat understood what was going on in Gaude's head. He said in an aggrieved tone: "You… Stay away from her, stay away from my family until you get your head put back on straight, soldier!" Even without seeing them, Carter's werewolf hearing had managed to identify the sound of what could be a bundle of dog tags still around Gaude's neck.

It was a simple matter for Gaude to concede with Carter's request – he was already done with Irma, there was no new information to be gained from her.

Still, Carter, like many others, was giving him attitude without due respect, he seemed to have forgotten who's in charge.

Gaude growled: "You said your piece, now piss off. And try to recall who's in charge around here.", then punched out with his metal right arm, this time utilizing the weight enhancement function. Carter was blown away from the spot before he could react, crashing into a wall twenty feet away, already transformed into a werewolf.

Gaude took a few steps closer as he dispelled the illusion covering his body, giving Carter a full view of his glorious form as he asked in his draconian hoarse voice: "You want some more, is that it? Come and get it."

Carter had finally gotten back to his feet, his ribcage now had four cracked ribs hidden among the healthy ones. He growled in a low tone as he turned and left: "Asshole."

Gaude had no interest in bullying the bunch of weaklings training on grounds two through seven. He only let them know that they'd have to become better than those in training ground one currently were, with half the time. To drive in the point after his qualifications had been questioned, he beat the best in each of the training grounds an inch from death. Gaude found it a good way to introduce himself to all the new recruits.

---

An hour later, Gaude's heads of departments were gathered into the conference room. He had reintroduced himself to them, the reaction from their contracts a sign that he was speaking the truth. He was standing up at the head of the table, looking down on all of his brightest employees as he said: "It's good to see most of you still here. Unfortunately, during this past decade, my grandfather Charles has passed away and I will be taking over on full capacity. Tomorrow morning, the employment contracts for everyone will be renewed. Today, I'll be brushing up on the research you all have done."

"Understood, Mr. Vywin."

Looking over all the faces once more, Gaude then asked: "Where's Snape?"

Raymond Agelhort replied: "Mr. Snape has been working as Hogwarts Potions Master for almost the entire time you were gone, sir."

Raymond was one of his most die-hard employees, after being the sole employee in the dangerous plants greenhouse and an Basilisk breeder later relegated to being Hagrid's assistant, he had somehow made it to head of the Herbology department.

Anything else aside, under Raymond's management, no probationary Herbologist had butchered the herbs even half as badly as he had. This was the main cause for the dangerous plants greenhouse being chronically understaffed for the past six years. After all, it was a tradition that employment in the dangerous plants greenhouse was a form of re-education for the employees, to force them to properly follow all guidelines. Still, work-related accidents did occasionally happen, and each time, contribution points were deducted for healing.

Once a number of administrative matters that had accumulated over the years were discussed, the heads of departments were dismissed.

Gaude started his round trip from the mind department. It didn't have an official name before his impromptu leave of absence, but now it had its own facility with specialized artefacts.

The founders were, predictably, Pandora, Snape and a few others who had worked on the two Pensieve projects. Pandora's main contribution was the necessary enchantments, not at all conflicting with her line of work. Snape had been the main Legilimens and Occlumens on the project, before professionals of those areas were hired.

Gaude could see all that from the Pensieve, since the faces of the contributors were recorded among other things.

There were a few things that were not in the Pensieve, however, so he found the lead researcher and said: "Am I correct to think that this is a sort of an external mind that you've been trying to create for the past ten years?"

"You would be quite correct indeed. Unfortunately, even after fully restoring the damaged portions, trying to re-create the complex network of fine structures similar to living minds have proven to be challenging."

Gaude thought for a while before saying: "Maybe you should look into how a mind develops since birth."

"Yes, sir. We'll look for a suitable subject."

Thinking of a potential risk, Gaude hurried to remind: "Don't just go kidnapping infants. It's more trouble than it's worth. We have our image to take care of. It's best to adopt."

"Understood, sir. I'll put somebody on it."

Gaude had also discovered that the vampire patients he hadn't had time to treat were all back to where they belonged, some even with no memory loss at all. Fortunately, nobody had touched the 'special case' as Gaude had labelled it.

Next, Gaude took a look into the second Pensieve in that lab that was there mostly for the purpose of posterity and inspiration.

Inside, there were multiple memories and he focused on one of them.

It was a blurry image of the room Gaude was currently in, with a witch in white robes in front of a seated man.

"Mr. Arkis, try this set.", the witch said while handing a ring and a headband to the man.

A voice grumbled in response: "I've been at it for a long time, what makes you think today will end any different?"

Still, he put on the headband and ring.

Suddenly, the memory became much clearer and more detailed. The witch turned out to be one of Pandora's assistants.

"Alright, now just put your finger in here and tell me the moment anything happens."

The man did as he was asked and a blurry chaos of images filled the next few seconds, before he pulled his finger out of the Pensieve.

"What the hell was that?", he asked.

"Oh, this sounds like progress. Excellent, excellent. Please describe what you saw."

The man did as he was asked and the researcher spoke: "Yes, it is as I expected. Muggle minds aren't very good at navigating Pensieves. I should add some enchantments to support that."

The man removed the headband and the memory lost its detail and clarity again. It seemed that the headbands had the side-effect of somewhat boosting cognitive abilities. If that was all, they'd certainly come in handy for the research teams, but unfortunately, there was more.

"That's the most I can take today, doc. Those damn things always give me a fucking headache."

The memory faded out after that, followed by a few more improvements on the project, including one where ten born Muggles tried out the last iteration of the gear, all confirming that they could successfully view the memories.

There weren't too many surprises for Gaude in the Potions lab:

Basilisk's bane potion was successfully created by Snape, tested on the Basilisks bred by Hagrid. The effect wasn't quite what Gaude had expected. Apparently, after going through many 'willing' test subjects, Snape had realized he had no way of combating the reptile's glare. Instead, he concentrated on negating the creature's ability to glare altogether, creating Basilisk-grade teargas, with a supplementary potion to avoid any adverse effects in wizards. The basilisks in the enclosure had quickly learned to always keep the transparent lid on their eyes, blocking the more harmful effects.

Other than that, a few more varieties potions were improved and streamlined.

Pandora had lost over thirty research assistants, a sign of not taking it easy while Gaude was gone. There were still plenty of low-status Death Eaters with a decent magical talent left in the holding cells, so the research would not stop anytime soon.

Pandora had also produced a whole array of spells in the process, however, the vast majority were of the utility kind, something that Gaude remedied by giving her a new direction – extremely high yield attack magic, also known as nuclear strike spells. Having seen a glimpse of the Titans, Gaude wanted to start preparing as soon and as much as he could.

Occasionally, Pandora would appear as a guest lecturer in Hogwarts, in the seventh year advanced spell creation classes. Among other things, she also included a lecture on the proper safety procedures every year.

Hagrid had managed to figure out a hundred and seventy-four extraction methods for magical beasts that didn't leave permanent damage and identified around fifty species for whom such extraction methods didn't seem to exist. With his schedule in Hogwarts getting busier in recent years, however, he hadn't been as diligent. It was something that Gaude had to remedy.

Overall, it seemed that a certain hairy old coot had been poaching the time of Gaude's employees a lot while he wasn't looking.

The Conglomerate had grown and by a great deal at that, even if by looking at all the red in the books it seemed hard to believe.

It was just that the dissolution of the Soviet Union had left a whole lot of assets up for grabs and as per Gaude's instructions, grab the Conglomerate did. It was a long-term investment, supported by every single one of Gaude's businesses, barely leaving enough operating funds. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that the Vywin Conglomerate owned around an eighth of the former Soviet Union's property, among them oil fields, ore mines and the real nuclear launch codes. It was all thanks to those in charge suddenly getting an extreme sense of urgency to get rid of whatever they were holding onto, for the least amount of profit that still looked reasonable on paper, courtesy of a team of magically-inclined lawyers. Other than the launch codes, that is. That was Laly's team of house elves.