Preparations

A/N: Pat-reon: HelloDarkness07

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I give out another sigh of annoyance, after getting out of the Ministry of Magic, and into the large Atrium. I had just gone there to report the death of 6 Wizards who had attacked me in Norway, their bodies destroyed in the battle.

No way I'm giving them the bodies of Wizards who have gone through my family's Ritual, however illegally. I don't want the DOM figuring out how to take part in the Ritual themselves, or that it belonged to my family.

No, it's better that they believe the Wizards' bodies were destroyed in Norway itself.

And yes, 6. I had only told them about 6 of my attackers, leaving out a single name. Charlus Potter. Charlus.. wasn't close with Fleamont, no. Fleamont and his younger brother Henry were just three years apart, but they were as different as brothers come, and estranged too.

One a Potions Master, the other a Politician. One married for love, the other married for connections. Charlus was a result of a loveless marriage, and he had seen the lack of relationship between Fleamont and Henry.

So, when his parents died some 10 years ago, he decided he wanted nothing to do with Fleamont, and moved to northern Europe to complete his education. Durmstrang, is where he was enrolled, and he stayed there indefinitely.

But, even after all this, Charlus was the last living Potter, save for Monty himself. And I wasn't going to break his heart by revealing Charlus as a damn terrorist to the whole world. 

Well, I was going to reveal it to just the Potters, hoping against all hope, that they understand why he had to die. Why I killed him.

With a simply twist of my feet, I disappear from the Ministry Atrium, and appear in front of a gate, leading to the house of the Potter family, which currently only comprises of two members. With my hands in my pockets, I walk towards the front door, already dreading the talk we're going to be having right now.

Boy, what I wouldn't do to go back to Norway, 7 days ago, and stop our mission from ever happening. Unfortunately, the grandfather paradox is a very serious issue, and I'm not going to tempt the Timeline into killing me off.

Well, let's get this over with.

ooOoo

Tom Riddle was content with his life, he didn't enjoy it, no. Enjoyment was.. beneath him. He was just content, satisfied.

He was Head Boy of Hogwarts this year, and was going to graduate at the top of his year in a few months. Almost everything had gone perfectly for him, in Hogwarts.

Almost.

Three years ago, Tom had found the entrance to the legendary Chamber of Secrets, belonging to Salazar Slytherin, his very own ancestor. He remembered going there, entering the chamber, hearing a voice, and then.. nothing.

He had fortunately already begun with learning the Mind Arts, and so, he was able to patch together a few things from his disjointed memories.

Someone had found the Chamber of Secrets before him, someone who Tom was most definitely related to. And that person had dared to erase his memories of the encounter! That person had dared to bar Lord Voldemort himself from HIS Chamber of Secrets.

He had tried, many times, to enter the Chamber again, managing to find 3 more entrances. But no matter what he commanded, the Entrances refused to open for him, and that just made Tom angrier.

A few months later, in the Christmas holidays of 1942, Tom had tracked down his only other living relatives, hoping to find the person who he had met in the Chamber, and kill him for the insult. Alas, he had only found one single near Squib, who was far too crazy to even know what end of the Wand to point at your enemy, and a family of muggles.

Obviously, the muggles were now dead, their deaths not even important enough to be used in the Horcrux Ritual. He then framed his demented uncle for the murders, and stole the very fancy, and obviously important Ring on his fingers.

Unfortunately, it was not the Key for the Slytherin Vault. The damned Goblins refused to even let him near the Vault to try to open it, no matter what he threatened them with. They had dared to laugh at him. Him!

And he completely blamed this unknown relative of his.

He had gotten angrier, and angrier. He had researched about the Chamber, hoping to find something to grant him entrance, but instead, he had found something else. The Monster of Salazar Slytherin.

He had deduced, that Salazar Slytherin had bred a Basilisk to guard his Chamber, and it was either dead, or under the Relative's command. So.. Tom bred another one, keeping it hidden inside a trunk that he Enchanted himself.

The stupid Basilisk had to go around petrifying students when it had gone out to hunt for food. Thankfully, they were just mudbloods, but it had brought a closer eye from the Ministry to the School. They believed this to be a trick by the Dark Lord Grindelwald.

The security that was already pretty tight had become even more so, Aurors now openly patrolling the Castle.

As if a mudblood loving Grindelwald would be of the noble Line of Slytherin.

Then, in June of 1944, the Basilisk had its first actual victim, the connection he had with it allowing Tom to create his first Horcrux.

Tom had taken advantage of the situation, and he had framed the stupid oaf, Hagrid and his Acromantula for the death. He then killed the Basilisk, deeming it too dangerous for even himself to control. The death of Myrtle Warren might have been beneficial to his cause, but it was definitely accidental.

And then, he had laid low, knowing that Dumbledore was keeping an annoyingly close eye on him, already suspecting Tom of the murder. Even after he had managed to get the oaf under his custody, in return of helping the Ministry interrogate a few of the Wizards the muggle loving fool, Captain Avalon had captured.

Captain Avalon, the traitor had also managed to piss Tom off, just by being associated with the Muggle Army. The same Muggles that tortured Wizards, burned them at the stake, tried to steal their Magic time and time again.

But, it was not as if Tom can do anything.. yet. Aves had the full back-up of the Ministry of Magic, and even some support from the ICW, after he had captured his first Dark Wizard.

Tom was just waiting to take over the Wizarding World to deal with all those Blood Traitors.

Shaking his head, Tom ignores the muggle loving fools annoying him by just existing, and focuses back on the book he was reading, suddenly feeling very sleepy. Before he can question his own mind, why it's happening, Tom blacks out, his feet taking him to his bed automatically.

The next day, his Slytherin dormmates, or his sycophants, more like, find the dead body of Tom Marvolo Riddle, with the venom of a Basilisk found in his blood. And in his backpack, after taking care of the various Protection spells, most of them Dark, they find various books, detailing how to raise a Basilisk, the all over the world banned book, Moste Potente Evil, and a journal of Herpo, the Foul himself, detailing in excruciating details how to create a Horcrux.

No one knew where he found those books, but some of those books immediately disappeared after coming into DMLE custody.

Almost immediately, Tom Riddle's death is declared an accident, thanks to him raising a XXXXX Beast. He is also charged with breeding said beast illegally, raising it without a licence, and being accessory in the murder of Myrtle Warren a year ago.

The Basilisk, meanwhile, is declared missing, with the school taking a week's worth of holiday to try and find it. Alas, it is never found.

Similarly, Rubeus Hagrid is immediately cleared of any and all charges against him, allowing him to continue his education, albeit after a drop of a single year.

From Tom Riddle's bags, two objects disappear, never to be seen again. A Diary belonging to the now dead Tom Riddle, and a single ring, with a dark black gemstone sitting on it.

The ghost of Myrtle Warren, after understanding that her murderer was dead, passes on to the afterlife, her soul finally at peace.

ooOoo

Mason POV:

Flipping the destroyed diary of Tom Riddle in my hands, I throw it into the flames, the soul fragment having been destroyed last night itself.

Tom Riddle was dead, destroyed, by my own hands, before he can even begin his reign of terror. 

I had ignored the news from the school for a couple years, being too busy with my own War against Hydra, Hitler, and Grindelwald. But now, as soon as I had actually tried to find out what had happened in these last two years that I was away, and found out about Myrtle's death.. well, Tom signed his life away at that moment.

I gave him one chance to improve, barred him from the Chamber so he doesn't find the Basilisk and kill Myrtle with it. But.. it seems fate had other ideas. Or maybe Tom did.

Tom still found a Basilisk, bred it actually, and used that Basilisk to kill the poor girl. 

I was already pissed thanks to Tim's death, the reassuring words of the Potter family not being useful enough in making me feel better. And Tom, it seems, was just a target for the guilt.

I've already doomed Myrtle thanks to not killing Tom when he was younger. I wasn't going to wait for him to commit more murders before taking care of him.

His life was forfeit. His crimes? Murder, and desecrating the soul. I don't care much about the raising Basilisk part, since I did raise Sly without a licence. I'd be a hypocrite to to use that as an excuse to kill someone.

I'm not good, I know that. I'm morally neutral, with some of my deeds being as good as they come, and some being as bad. Killing a 17 year old Tom Riddle belongs to the later, despite the reasons. So does torturing my father, killing Charlus despite his surrender, casting Unforgivables, going through debatable Dark Rituals, and I'll probably commit a lot more crimes in this war.

The only reassurance being that I know my motives, I know my thinking. I believe in myself to not go too far into the dark. And if I do, well someone is bound to stop me.

Closing my eyes, I focus on the new knowledge that I had gotten. As diverse as my new knowledge base was, most of it was useless for me.

The memories of the 2 Wizards I managed to copy, Vinda Rosier, and Charlus Potter, didn't have a single spell I didn't know of, or anything else that I couldn't get in the Room of Knowledge.

I did get to confirm that Grindelwald and his lieutenants have gone through the Bond of Blood Ritual, to gain mutations. 7 Mutants were sacrificed to give the 7 that attacked me their mutations, while a few more Mutants gave His other Lieutenants their powers.

As for Grindelwald himself, well, he did it in private. Neither Charlus, nor Vinda knew what powers he has, since he hasn't even shown them yet.

The Ninja, well, his mind had a treasure trove of knowledge, I'll give him that. He was the direct underling of Nobu Yoshioka, who is literally the face of one of the Fingers, Murakami. Different Hand bases around the world, different criminal organizations under Murakami's hands, hidey holes, bank accounts, sleeper agents, these were the things that I literally didn't give a shit about, that he had.

It was, however, intersting to know that the Hand had some form of presence in the different Wizarding nations. So, I might have to look out for Wizard Ninjas in the future too.

His training, on the other hand, really interested me, along with the existence of Red Ninjas.

Those Red Ninjas, as I called them, were completely silent, odorless, and had no mental presence. Because they were literally Zombies. The Hand had some form of Occult Ritual, that could bring people back to life, completely Mindless, and under total control of their Masters.

They had no personality, no mind, no anything. They were just puppets meant to be ordered. They couldn't even speak, only fight.

But, despite that, they were still dangerous. I doubt many people would be able to see these Red Ninjas coming, seeing that even I almost fell for them. If it wasn't for my instincts, I would have definitely died that day.

As for the Kuronin, Hiiragi Kurosawa's memories of his training, well, that's.. complicated. I know of a Ritual, that can use those Memories of him training, and make it so my own body gains those benefits, literally giving me Hiiragi's Muscle memories. 

Well, technically, the Ritual makes it so any foreign memories that I have are immediately implemented in my own Mind and muscles, making all the training obsolete. I could theoretically absorb the memories of a kickboxing champion, go through the simple Ritual, and immediately become as good as him in kick boxing, muscle memory, instinct and all.

But, I can't take part in any Ritual for 3.5 more years, so there's that. I'll have to personally train myself, while using Telepathy to slowly ingrain Hiiragi's memories into mine. Or I'll have to wait.

And lastly, Nathaniel Essex. Nosferatu. He's a Genius, plainly speaking. His genius in Biological sciences, and Chemistry is unparalleled, and his knowledge about other sciences is nothing to scoff at either.

But Genetics, now that's where he shines the brightest. When it comes to Genetics, Nathaniel Essex is the top most authority, and I don't think even anyone in the 21st century, where I'm from, could put a candle to him.

He could create clones already, of himself, and of others. He could splice one person's DNA with another's, creating biological children without the parents doing the dirty. Heck, the Essex that I thought was Nathaniel Essex was actually one of his Clone bodies, with his Mind just possessing it.

It had all his powers, yes, but it wasn't the one he was born with.

Telekinesis, total molecular control over his own body, Telepathy, superstrength, these were the powers he currently had, along with the Apocalypse given immortality. That's not special, one might say, given that even I had managed to integrate the Mutation of Victor Creed into my body, without changing too much about myself.

But.. the thing to be noted, is that Nathaniel Essex is still not a Mutant. He has powers, yes, but his DNA still identifies him as a Human. A completely mundane, normal, human. Of course, his powers were still very much there, and hence, he was more appropriately a Mutate, but still.

You need to be a Genius amongst geniuses to gain mutations, and still not be a mutant.

His mind was one I wasn't much interested in either, since whatever he can do, I can do too, with Magic. Rituals, Potions, Spells, whatever Essex wants to achieve, I can do easily enough.

But still, the locations of all his laboratories, his homes, his bases, and the fucking Island he has, will definitely come to use in the future, when we inevitably come to meet again.

For now, I'm going to focus on Hiiragi's training memories, and work on reforging the Dark sword. And I know just the dead person to help me do it.

"King Ragnuk, the First." I whisper, spinning the Peverell Ring in my palm three times.

Just like when I had called Sorcerer Supreme Yao, the ghost of Ragnuk the First slowly exits out of the Resurrection Stone in the form of smoke, and condenses into the 3 foot tall, muscle bound figure of a Goblin.

This Goblin was special, since he was the one who crafted the most famous Goblin Silver weapon in the world. The Sword of Godric Gryffindor.

The Goblin in question blinks a few times, after coming into existence as a spirit, and looks around, already wary of me, his hand on the axe on his hip.

"Where am I, Wizard?" Ragnuk snarls, while brandishing his axe.

I look at his axe, amused to find it to be made out of Goblin's Silver too, and say, "My name is Mason Aves, thank you. And you're underneath Hogwarts, the Secret Chamber of Salazar Slytherin, to be exact."

Ragnuk looks around, his axe still pointed at me, uselessly, and frowns, seeing the Forge room. Pointing his axe at the Shelf, he asks, "Is that a giant Spoon made out of Goblin's Silver?"

"Yup. I created that when I was practicing forging." I say, proudly summoning it towards me, and showing it to him.

He tries to touch it, his hand passing through, and then stares at his hand. He whispers, "I'm dead, of course I am. I remember dying, I remember the pain.." he then looks at me, and asks, "So how am I here, alive once again?"

Using my Telekinesis to place the spoon back on the shelf, I say, "You've been dead for 900 years actually. And.. I called you here, temporarily, to help me with something."

Now, while I can't use Telepathy on a ghost just like that, I can do it when inside the Astral Plane. I know, I've tried it with Helena, and I've tried it with the other ghosts.

And I am actually going to do it with Ragnuk too, later.

But, just copying the memories won't be enough for me to create the perfect weapon quickly. I've already been away from HQ for 9 days, which makes reforging the Sword an urgent matter.

And that is why I'm planning to ask Ragnuk to guide me through forging the weapon.

"No." Ragnuk says immediately, which I already expected.

Amused, I say, "You haven't even heard my request, King Ragnuk."

Scowling, the Goblin says, "I know your kind, Wizard. If you're desperate enough to call me 900 years into the future, no doubt using some idiotic Necromancy Ritual, then it is so that I can craft a Weapon for you. The answer is no, I won't do it. Now, send me back, and leave me to my rest."

Smiling at him, I ask, "Not even if the metal you're going to work with is Uru?"

One thing I've learnt about Goblins, is they're proud. Proud of their Metals being superior to humans', proud of their Magic being better, proud of their race being better. And the presence of Uru, the metal of the Dwarves of Nidavellir, is something that they definitely won't be able to handle.

"The fuck is Uru?" Ragnuk asks, making my smile drop.

There goes that idea, but at least he's interested in the metal.

Waving my hand, I take the Dark Sword out of the Nowhere, now holding it in my naked hand, and offer it to him. Surprisingly enough, his hand stays on the sword this time, when he touches it.

As he rubs the blade, looking fascinated, he whispers, "The metal of the Gods! No.. this is.. different.. Less pure, darker.. more.. Evil."

Gods, even the metal itself is Evil? The Dark Elves must have some forging techniques, if the metal itself feels evil to the Goblin.

Nodding, I say, "This blade belonged to a race called the Dark Elves, forged by them using a rock like Metal, that the Sorcerer Supreme called Dark Uru. He helped me cleanse the Blade of most of it's Evil, but I'm guessing some stuff just can't be cleansed."

Although I am annoyed that the Evil that Ragnuk can sense stays hidden from my senses. For me, the blade is completely normal.

I see the greed shine through Ragnuk's eyes, and longing. He wanted to study the blade, to find out all its secrets, to work with Dark Uru. But his pride as a Goblin was coming in between.

"The answer is still, no. The last time I made a weapon for a Wizard, he stole it from me, and refused to pay the full price!" Ragnuk says, reluctantly pulling his hand away from the sword.

Rolling my eyes, I say, "I actually know what happened, Ragnuk. You liked the weapon you made too much, asked your soldiers to steal the Sword from Godric, it backfired, and Godric just didn't hand it over to your family after his death like he was supposed to. It was all your fault, admit it."

Ragnuk sniffs, and moves his head away from me. He says, "Even still, I refuse to help craft a weapon for a human, and have it be used on my own descendants."

Given that many of the Goblin Kings in the past had been overthrown, giving way to a massacre of the entire Royal family multiple times.. well, Ragnuk hasn't gotten any descendant left.

Shrugging, I pull the Sword away from Ragnuk, under his hungry eyes, and say, "Fine, I'll summon the ghost of a Dwarf then. I know King Drurig, the Second was a good Metalsmith. Maybe he'll help if I offer him the opportunity to work on some Goblin's Silver too."

I raise my hand, the ring held in front of my lips, and start chanting, "Oh, Lady Death. I besiege you to send this mortal soul of the Goblin known as Ragnuk-"

"WAIT!" Ragnuk yells, running forward, and holding my hand tightly, or trying to, since his hand just passed through mine.

Gottem.

Scowling at me, he says, "I have conditions, if I'm going to help you in this endeavour of yours."

Smirking internally, I look at him unimpressed, and ask, "Is any one of them to hand the Sword over to the Goblin Nation after my death? Because that's not something I'll agree to, if the Sword is as good as we hope."

Ragnuk glares at me, and says, "Please, the Spoon you made is barely up to task. You can't even work on Silver properly, what makes you think you can work on the metal of the Gods?"

Raising the ring once more, I say, "Well, there's always the Dwarves."

Ragnuk sputters, and asks, "DWARVES?! Those stone workers cannot recognise gold from copper! No, if anyone's working on the Metal of the Gods.. this Uru, then it's going to be a Goblin, me!"

Smiling, I say, "Fine, fine. What are your conditions?"

Ragnuk takes a step back, his hand finally leaving the insides of my own hand, and folds them over his stomach. He scowls at me, once again, and says, "One, I will watch over and instruct you, but I won't make the Weapon for you. You'll have to do that yourself."

Nodding, I say, "I was planning on it, since you won't be able to touch anything here."

This displeases the Goblin, for some reason, and he scowls even harder. Buddy, you're going to get stuck like that if you continue.

He says, "Second, you will give me a Magical Vow, to never use the Sword, or anything made by any Goblin, against any Goblin, no matter the crime they carry against you."

I frown, and think it over. Well, I can always use other weapons to carry out my revenge if some Goblin does something to me.

Nodding, I say, "Very well, I won't use anything Goblin made, or the weapon that you'll help me make, into harming Goblins."

"Now, are you any good at Alchemy?" Ragnuk asks, making me raise my eyebrows. When I nod, he says, "My final condition, is that you will create a homunculus for me to possess, so that I can go and visit the Goblin Nation once again."

Buddy..

"You realise that the Homunculus won't make you alive? You'll still be dead, and as soon as your Time is up, you'll get pulled to the other side." I say, bending down to look the little guy in his eyes. That's not to mention the fact that no Homunculus is actually permanent. They always run out of juice.

And, nope, even Legilimency doesn't work on ghosts.

Scowling, once again, Ragnuk says, "I know. I just want to see how the Goblin Nation fares, 900 years after my death. I'm guessing we're still thriving, winning most of our Wars, if even you, a Wizard, thinks of me as the best person to reforge the Uru sword."

Well, I'm not going to tell him about his descendants. As for the condition of the Goblin Nation, he can find it out himself.

Nodding, I say, "I agree on all three of your conditions, but I'm afraid it'll take a while for your Homunculus to be ready. I might have to banish you, and then summon you once again a few months later."

The time limit for a ghost summon, I've observed, is about 2 days, which is how long Master Yao stayed here. And after he disappeared, I couldn't call him back using the Stone for an entire day.

But, that's not the point.

Creating a Homunculus, one designed to be possessed by a ghost, a Goblin ghost to be specific, will take time. Actually creating it even more so. Even with the Time Slower, I'm guessing it'll take me a half a year to do them both. And that's not counting the War I'm currently in the climax of.

Scowling, Ragnuk says, "Vow to do it then, a Vow on your Magic, stating all three of those conditions. Only then will I actually begin helping you."

Nodding, I say, "Fine, not like I mind it. But I need vows from you too, on your very existence. I don't want you to help me craft a faulty sword, and then take all the prizes for yourself."

I'll be sure to put a few contingencies in the Homunculus, and his Mind, in case Ragnuk tries to rat me out to the Goblins. 

Ragnok scowls, and says, "Fine. I'll do it."

After I give my vows, and Ragnok gives his own, he asks to see the Dark Sword once again, and says, "As I said, the metal is.. too Dark. If you craft a weapon out of this, as is, you'll corrupt your Magic, turn into the worst version of yourself. And no, I don't just mean Evil, you'll also become dumber than you are."

Hey now!

But, I thought Master Yao's Ritual was supposed to cleanse the Sword completely.. oh! I see, the Ritual just removed the connection to the Dark Elf's Spirit. 

Whatever the Dark Elves did to Uru, to turn it into Dark Uru, is still there. I'm guessing there's no cure for that, or Master Yao would have helped me do it already.

"What do you suggest then?" I ask, trusting the Goblin for now. As soon as he tries to go against his Vows, he will be completely erased anyway, so I'll know it.

Ragnok gets a glint in his eyes, and asks, "You won't happen to know where Godric Gryffindor's sword is, would you? That Sword is too pure, or at least it was, that it'll perfectly balance this Dark Uru out."

I snort, of course he wants his bloody sword back. Shaking my head, I say, "I don't have the Sword of Gryffindor, no. But.. I have something better, something so pure, that it completely erased the curses this Dark Sword laid upon my body."

As Ragnuk looks at my face, and around the Forge, to see if he can find the mysterious item, I raise my right hand up into the air, and conjure the Light Sword from the Nowhere.

The Light Sword, a sword of my ancestors. One of my ancestors on the Slytherin side, faced an Evil enemy, a sword wielding Man empowered by some sort of Demon. Anyone that touched him was corrupted by the Demon, turning them into another one of his Sycophants.

To battle him, my ancestor, whose name was not written, commissioned a sword to be made out of a Sorcerer, since they have experience dealing with Demons. The Sorcerer created this sword out of some unknown metal, and bound it to my ancestor's blood.

Whenever one of his descendants needs to battle something Dark, something Evil, the sword will appear to them. If the wielder dies, the sword will become dormant, awaiting its next wielder. This is why it was rusted when I'd seen it in the Slytherin Vault, this is why it came to me.

Ragnuk's eyes immediately light up, and he whispers, "Perfect! Give me a couple hours alone with the Swords, and we can begin with the process as soon as I understand them completely."

I smile, thankful that I wasn't planning on actually using any of the two swords. The Light Sword, and the Dark Sword. Two extremes on the opposite sides of the spectrum. One Pure Light, the other.. cleansed Dark. 

They were.. too much for me. The Light Sword I could handle using, since it didn't change anything in me. It just kept my soul purified, kept Dark Magic away from me, and sped my Healing just a little bit. The Dark Sword, however, corrupted my Soul, or it would if I ever use it. It did give some benefits, in Lightning control, and an increase in strength and speed.

Here's to hoping I don't ruin them both in my attempts of Reforging them for me.

ooOoo

Steve Rogers POV:

Steve Rogers was tired, and angry. Angry at the Colonel, for sending just 7 Howling Commandos on a mission that needed all 9, at the Higher ups, for ordering the Colonel to do so, at Mason, for not fighting for his right to join Steve in capturing Zola, and at Hydra, for causing the death of his closest friend.

Most of all, he was angry at himself, for not saving his friend.. for not saving Bucky.

They had gone on the mission 2 days ago, the first day spent in dismissing decoy trains, and obvious traps laid for them. And then, when Gabe finally found the train that Zola was on, they attacked.

But, Hydra was ready for them, with flamethrowers, Energy blasters, and some sort of strength enhancing armours. And Bucky.. Bucky took a shot on the Vibranium shield he was holding, one meant for Steve, that threw him out of the train.

Steve could still remember him, hanging off a metal bar, holding on for dear life, before the speed of the train, the strain of holding on, and the tiredness from the small battle they had, took its toll on Bucky, and.. he fell.

And now, when he had returned to London, a captured Zola now featuring a few more bruises, he had realised that Bucky wasn't the only friend he lost in this mission.

Tim, poor Tim, he looked up to Mason, despite being half a decade older than him, and had gone with Mason on a separate mission, to extract a Divine Weapon. And now, Tim was dead, just like Bucky, the only difference being that Tim's body was actually brought back by Mason, through enemy lines.

'And you didn't even find Bucky's body.' a traitorous part of his mind whispered, making him gulp the rest of his Whiskey and pour some more.

Fat lot of good that did, as the Brits would say, since Steve can't even get drunk now.

Someone sits beside Steve, in the Bar the Howling Commandos had claimed as their meeting point, making Steve turn to his left. Seeing his team leader, Captain Mason Aves, or Captain Avalon, he whispers, "Mason.."

Captain Aves just puts his hand on Steve's shoulder, none of them saying anything for a while. Both of them were Captains, both lost their closest friends in a single week. And both were angry at everyone.

After having a few more drinks, neither of them getting actually drunk thanks to their respective gifts, Mason asks, "Did Zola say anything?"

Steve shakes his head, and says, "I don't know. I haven't been there since I've been back. It's.."

"Yeah.. it is.." Mason says, both of them understanding the feeling without expressing it in words.

The sound of the stool shifting makes Steve turn to his friend, his team leader, and he blinks. Mason was.. changed.

He looked more confident now, somehow, stronger too. His eyes told the same tale, haunted as they were thanks to Tim's death. Mason was a changed man now, and just like Steve, he wanted justice for his friends.

Mason also had a small change to his uniform, something he didn't have before. Over each shoulder, sword handles could be seen, the angle they were kept at hinting to Steve that the blades were curved.

Mason says, "Hydra has wronged you, wronged me, and wronged the Howling Commandos. They killed two of our members in two days, and we have just their lead scientist in our hands to show for it. We cannot keep blaming ourselves for our friends' deaths, we need to show them some dignity. But, we can avenge them. As soon as Zola squeals, I'm going to be leaving to attack Schmidt. And I want to ask.. will you join me?"

Steve stands up, his mind made as soon as Bucky's death actually hit, and he says, "Mason.. I'll follow you to the gates of hell itself. I just have one question. What's with the swords?"

Mason chuckles at the question, and it makes Steve himself smile, despite his pain. Mason raises his hands over his shoulder, and without a sound, takes the two swords out of their scabbards.

The swords' blades were a light grey in colour, although one was a bit darker than the other, with a ripple patterned across its blade. They were curved, as Steve had expected them to be, but its curvature wasn't like anything he had seen before. 

The handles of the swords were made out of what looked like either bone, or a giant tooth, but Steve didn't know of any animal with a tooth as big as that. The handles were covered in a leather of some kind, allowing it a good grip, and just by looking once, Steve could tell that the Swords will not break easily.

ooOoo

As Steve looks over my new Swords, I smile, and say, "You're called the Shield of America, and I'm called the Sword of Britain. It didn't seem fair that you already have a shield, but I don't have a Sword. And the Government wasn't giving me one, so.. I got two for myself. Steve, meet Durmagol, and Galadmagol."

Durmagol, and Galadmagol. Dark Sword, and Light Sword.

Made out of Dark Uru, the unknown metal that made the Light Sword, that I'm calling Mithril, and Goblin's Silver, with a handle made of Basilisk fangs. Weaker than the original Dark Sword in some manner, but better in others.

Where these ones won't enhance my strength any, they do give me a minor boost in my reflexes. Where they won't be able to call down Lightning storms, they do grant me an affinity for channelling Lightning spells through them, or absorbing Lightning.

They can also reflect spells back to the user, or absorb the magic of spells, depending on my Intention. Along with that, as long as I hold at least one of these swords, no Curse will ever keep me down. The Swords boost my natural Healing factor so much, that as long as they're in my hands, I'm practically immortal.

But, this isn't any reason to become arrogant, I'll still be on my guard, just with a better weapon at hand.

Durmagol, the Dark Sword, was different than the Galadmagol, the Light Sword. Durmagol was obviously darker in nature as well as colour, with its Enchantments more focused towards attack. It also retained some of the Dark curse that was present in the original Dark Sword, which will inhibit healing factors.

It won't kill anyone, but it will completely stop Healing factors, and stop any attempts at Magical healing. The only way to heal wounds made by the Dark Sword, is to hold the Light Sword, or to allow them to heal naturally.

The Galadmagol, meanwhile, was lighter in nature, with its Enchantments geared more towards Healing, absorbing Magic spells to fuel said healing, and to give me the better instincts.

Best of all, Ragnuk had helped me enchant them, personally dictating the Runes and Spells I needed to cast, over the two days we had worked on it. 

No one can lift the Sword without my permission, and no one can harm me with any of the two swords. The Swords can also be called to me with just a thought, making the Swords appear similar to how Godric's sword appears to its heirs.

Smirking darkly, I swing the swords around a few times, using the 7 days of practicing that I had done, using Hiiragi's memories, to stay silent through it all. My Time Watch had allowed me to come back 16 days into the past, thankfully well within the limits of my Time travels.

You made my friends die, Schmidt, Grindelwald. Now, I'll make sure you face the same fate.

---

A/N: l am sleepy, so I might add a few gifts to the Swords later on. 

Just.. FYI, Dark Uru is something I cooked up, to be a Metal that the Dark Elves created out of Uru, using a Dark Ritual or something. It is inherently Dark now, which is why Mason needed to melt the Light Sword too, to balance it out.

Goblin's Silver was just added because it allowed me to have him absorb poison and all, without harming the blade. He didn't poison the sword yet, but he will whenever he needs it.

Hope I didn't butcher the last part, but, as I said, I'm sleepy. I'll reread it tomorrow, and edit if I find something that needs changing.

Thank you for your support! Tata!