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Vast Sea Visualization

In a world where magic meets the mind's vast expanse, Lucas, reborn as Harry Potter, wields the power of visualization to master his emotions and wandless magic. With a tranquil sea as his mental fortress, he embarks on a journey of self-discovery and magical mastery.

Evoxius · Livros e literatura
Classificações insuficientes
84 Chs

Live Broadcast

"We're coming to you live from the skies above Kowloon, where a truly unbelievable scene is unfolding before our eyes. I... I'm struggling to make sense of what we're witnessing here."

Wearing a navy blue suit, the reporter clutched the helicopter's doorframe tightly. Despite the blasting air conditioning, sweat appeared on his forehead. His eyes, filled with astonishment, darted between the city below and the camera lens.

"There appears to be some kind of...entity, made entirely of flames, raining destruction down upon the densely populated Kowloon Walled City." He shook his head slowly, adam's apple bobbing. "Surely I must be dreaming. This can't be real."

Beneath them, massive columns of black smoke spiralled upward, illuminated by the infernal orange glow of the raging fires. The previously chaotic spread of ramshackle buildings had transformed into a blazing wasteland, with only a few structures still standing amid the ruin.

The reporter licked his lips nervously. "The... the devastation is almost total from what we can see. Entire city blocks have been levelled. I... I shudder to think of the potential loss of life down there."

He trailed off, visibly shaken, as a deafening roar shook the helicopter. All eyes turned towards the source - an immense, vaguely humanoid shape composed of swirling flames and intense heat haze. The elemental being thrust its burning arms outward, unleashing a torrent of white-hot fire that speared through five massive buildings and engulfed the surroundings in intense fires. 

"Dear God..." The words slipped out as the reporter's fingers tightened on the doorframe. "It's as though Hell's inferno is right here on Earth."

Static crackled over the headsets as the pilot's voice cut through, terse and urgent. "We've got incoming military aircraft on an intercept vector! Looks like BFOHK air assets are moving to engage that... thing."

The helicopter's camera swivelled to track the rapidly approaching formation of gunships and fighter jets screaming in from the west. Missile trails blossomed from wing hardpoints, streaking towards the towering inferno wreaking havoc below.

"This is highly irregular procedure," the reporter said, regaining some of his composure despite his pallid complexion. "The British Forces Overseas Hong Kong appear to be attempting to neutralize the threat through military engagement."

He watched in mute horror as the first volley of missiles found their mark, detonating against the elemental entity in a series of thunderous explosions. For a brief moment, the fiery figure was obscured by roiling clouds of smoke and shrapnel.

Then, with a terrifying surge of heat and light, the smoke was blown apart in a shockwave of scorching air. The elemental being emerged completely unscathed, an aura of intense flames rippling around its form. It raised one blazing appendage, and a beam of searing energy lashed out, spearing one of the fighter jets.

The aircraft simply...ceased to exist, consumed in an instant by the ray. The reporter flinched, shielding his face from the shockwave of intense heat that pummelled their helicopter.

"I...I can scarcely believe what I'm seeing!" he shouted over the noise of shuddering metal and screaming jet engines. "That... that military aircraft was utterly obliterated by some kind of energy attack!"

All around them, the sky was alive with the streaks of missiles and cannon fire as the BFOHK forces desperately tried to eliminate the threat. Yet none of the ordinance seemed to even faze the towering inferno below.

With a bone-chilling roar of fury, the entity unleashed its power in a cataclysmic eruption. Pillars of fire lanced skyward, swatting aircraft out of the air as if they were gnats. The helicopter's windshield ran with condensation from the intense heat bloom, forcing the pilot to take evasive action.

The reporter was thrown against the cabin wall with a grunt of pain, his headset clattering to the floor amidst a shower of papers and equipment. He stared out at the conflagration in stunned silence, the reality finally sinking in.

This was no dream. This was a nightmare made manifest.

The reporter's eyes widened in utter disbelief as a new development evolved amidst the chaos. "You...you're not going to believe this, but I'm seeing figures on...on broomsticks soaring into the airspace!"

He shook his head vehemently, as if trying to dislodge the unreal image from his mind's eye. "Broomsticks! Like something out of a fairy tale! Am I hallucinating here?"

The camera moved to capture the incredible sight of more than a dozen individuals mounted on ordinary broomsticks, darting and weaving with impressive agility through the smoke-filled sky. Strangely, each one held a small wooden stick, waving and jabbing them in complex motions.

"I don't...I can't explain what I'm seeing," he stammered, the reporter's professional facade cracking once more. "These people on broomsticks seem to be...to be..." His voice faded, and he was at a loss for words.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen despite the figures' frantic movements. Then, the towering elemental being appeared to waver and distort, its fiery form rippling like a mirage.

"Did you see that?" the reporter gasped, pointing wildly. "That blazing...thing...it's almost like it flickered for a second there!"

Sudden streaks of scorching energy lanced out from the elemental horror, spearing towards the aerial combatants with unerring accuracy. The broomstick-mounted figures scattered in evasive manoeuvres, twisting and diving in a desperate aerobatic display.

One, however, reacted a fraction too slowly. The searing beam of fire found its mark, and the shrieking figure was simply...erased from existence in a blinding flare of incandescence. 

"Oh God..." the reporter choked out, his face turning ghostly pale. "That person was...was just..."

Another near miss - a broom rider narrowly avoided incineration by jabbing their wooden stick forward. In the blink of an eye, they vanished, only for their severed leg to materialize in their previous position an instant later. The severed limb hung suspended for a moment before the fire beam consumed it in a puff of ash.

"I can't... I can't process what I'm seeing here," the reporter said faintly, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is... this is insanity. Utter insanity."

Just when it seemed the strange arrivals would be overwhelmed, a new formation appeared – reinforcements flying in on their own broomstick mounts. They fanned out, wooden sticks raised in synchronicity. 

As one, the group jabbed their sticks toward the entity, and....nothing happened. The reporter blinked in confusion for several agonizing seconds.

Then, it began.

The fiery horror's form started contracting, almost as if it were imploding in on itself. Its blazing appendages shrivelled and retracted as the mass of flames grew tighter, more compressed. 

With a strange, high-pitched keening, the elemental horror collapsed inward until it winked out of existence entirely, leaving only a few scattered embers drifting on the scorched air.

The reporter could only gape in stunned silence for several moments before finally finding his voice.

"I...I don't have any rational explanation for what we've just witnessed here," he said as he looked into the camera. "All I can tell you is that...that somehow, someway...that nightmare made of living fire has been neutralized."

The aerial reporter stared in disbelief as one of the broomstick-mounted figures broke away from the others and soared directly towards the news helicopter. His jaw went slack, eyes wide behind his fogged glasses.

"You...you're seeing this too, right?" he stammered, gesturing towards the approaching broom-rider. "This...this isn't some sort of mass hallucination?"

Closer and closer the mysterious arrival flew until they were hovering just outside the helicopter's open door. The reporter flinched as the man - grizzled, with leathery sun-beaten skin and a shaved head - locked eyes with him.

"S-Sir?" The reporter licked his dry lips nervously. "Can you...can you explain what's happening here? Who are you people?"

The stranger's gaze was unreadable. Without a word, he raised a thin wooden stick and gave it a casual flick towards the helicopter.

"Obliviate," he muttered.

The reporter blinked, his expression going blank for a moment. When his eyes refocused, there was no recognition, no sense of the incredible events that had just transpired. He looked around slowly, brow furrowing in confusion at the devastated cityscape below.

"Wha...?" His voice was hesitant, uncertain. "What the bloody hell happened here?"

The pilot and camera operator exchanged equally baffled looks, shaking their heads slowly. It was as if the entire supernatural conflict had been wiped clean from their minds.

Only the camera had recorded the full, unvarnished truth. It continued broadcasting, the little red light winking impassively.

Swallowing hard, the reporter seemed to gather himself with visible effort. He straightened his tie and ran a hand over his thinning hair.

"Folks, I...I'm not sure what to make of this scene of utter devastation we're witnessing," he began, and his tone regained a touch of that practiced broadcaster's cadence despite his bewilderment. "But it appears a massive...firestorm, unlike anything I've ever seen, has ravaged the Kowloon Walled City."

The helicopter banked in a slow circle, allowing the camera to pan across the ruins. The entire 'city' had been reduced to fields of rubble interspersed with burnt out husks of buildings. Plumes of smoke still billowed skyward, obscuring the morning sun.

"The scale of the destruction is...is unprecedented," the reporter continued. "Everything has been levelled, leaving nothing but ash and debris in their wake. I...I shudder to think of the potential loss of life in such a densely populated area."

He trailed off, shaking his head slowly as the haunted emptiness of the ruined city seemed to stretch on forever below them. Clearing his throat, he made an obvious effort to project a more reassuring tone.

"Rest assured, we will continue documenting the situation from our vantage point and provide any updates as emergency response teams gain access to the area. But for now..." He paused, swallowing hard. "For now, it appears this has been an immense natural tragedy on a catastrophic scale. Our hearts go out to any survivors."

The camera kept rolling, passively broadcasting the reporter's well-meaning but oblivious attempts to contextualize and rationalize the supernatural horror that had played out.

oo0ooOoo0oo

The roar of the firestorm faded into an eerie, oppressive silence that seemed to smother the ruined landscape. Chun-Wai remained frozen amid the rubble and ash, his mother's lifeless body still clutched tightly to his chest.

Tears streaked down his grimy cheeks, leaving pale tracks through the soot and grime that caked his face. His eyes, red-rimmed and swollen from weeping, stared sightlessly at the dissipating cloud of smoke where the towering inferno had once raged.

How...? How had it simply vanished like that? One moment, an unstoppable force of destruction. The next, snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

And those people on broomsticks...had they somehow been responsible? Chun-Wai's mind reeled, unable to process the supernatural events he'd just witnessed. Nothing in his life could have prepared him for the nightmarish reality that had consumed Kowloon.

A faint thwock-thwock-thwock gradually registered through the ringing in his ears. Blinking dazedly, Chun-Wai turned his head to find the source - a news helicopter circling high overhead. Even from his position on the ground, he could make out the bright red "BBC" logo written on the fuselage.

Of course they would come to document the aftermath. The devastation was unprecedented, a tragedy of historic proportions. Perhaps he was the only survivor left in the entire city...

Like a spear, the thought pierced Chun-Wai, stealing his breath in a harsh gasp. His arms wrapped more tightly around his mother's broken body.

They were the only ones left. Everyone else - the huddled masses crammed into the walled city's derelict tenements, the merchants and street vendors, the triads and their enforcers - all gone. Reduced to ashes and bone by the fire devil.

An anguished wail tore from Chun-Wai's throat, echoing across the blasted landscape like the cry of a wounded animal. Oblivious to the news crew's watchful eye overhead, he rocked back and forth, keening his loss and agony into the oppressive silence.

His world was shattered, everything and everyone he'd ever known snuffed out in an instant by forces beyond comprehension. There was nothing left but death and ruin as far as the eye could see.

And yet...

A faint scuffling, the crunch of footsteps in rubble. Chun-Wai's head snapped up, his sobs hitching in his throat. His grief-blurred gaze scanned the devastation, searching for the source of that minute sound.

There - a figure stumbling out from behind a pile of smashed concrete, limping and clutching a bloodied arm. As Chun-Wai watched in disbelief, more shapes began to materialize from the haze of smoke, staggering like the last remnants of the waking world.

They were alive. Others had survived the unimaginable destruction.

Chun-Wai's breath came in quick bursts as he gently placed his mother's body on the debris-strewn ground. He rose unsteadily, his arms extended to his sides for balance, swaying before he planted his feet firmly.

"Over here!" His voice cracked hoarsely from smoke inhalation and screaming, but he didn't care. Waving his arms frantically, Chun-Wai stumbled towards the nearest cluster of survivors. "Here! I'm here!"

Broken and dazed, the figures shifted their gaze toward him. A man with a soot-blackened face squinted at Chun-Wai, trying to make out his features.

"You...you're alive?" he croaked, coughing violently.

Chun-Wai nodded, the motion making his head spin. "Yes, yes I'm alive! Are there others? How many made it?"

The dazed group looked around slowly, as if just realizing the enormity of what they'd endured. A woman clutching a limp bundle - a child, Chun-Wai realized with a pang - shook her head numbly.

"Not...not many," she whispered, tears streaking down her ash-stained cheeks. "So few made it out..."

Chun-Wai felt his spark of hope falter, but he refused to let it gutter out completely. Not yet. Not while there were still survivors to find, lives to try and salvage from this nightmare.

"Then we need to look for more," he stated, drawing himself up despite his weariness and injuries. His eyes found the circling news helicopter, still documenting the carnage from above. "They'll see us from the air. We need to make them notice us!"

The others followed his gaze upwards, flinching back instinctively as the downdraft from the whirring rotors buffeted them with swirls of ash and debris. High above, oblivious camera lenses continued recording the scene of death and ruin.

Chun-Wai cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed upwards with everything he had left.

"HEY! DOWN HERE! WE'RE ALIVE! HELP US!"

The words tore at his already raw throat, but he didn't care. He had to make them see, had to get the world's attention so that what little remained wouldn't be forgotten amidst the catastrophe.

The other survivors, one after another, joined Chun-Wai in a ragged, desperate cry aimed at the news helicopter that circled above like a vulture over their shattered home.

For now, all they could do was scream for the world to bear witness - and pray that their cries would be heard over the deafening silence of the dead.