ICW Council Chamber, Nepal
Tenzin sat at the head of the circular chamber, his expression calm, yet his fingers drummed lightly against the polished wood of the table. Around him, representatives from various magical nations argued in hushed but urgent voices. The discussion had begun as a strategic assessment, but it had quickly devolved into something else entirely.
"Sending aid to Egypt is reckless," one advisor said, a sharp-featured man from the French delegation. "We don't even know if Everglade can be trusted."
"Trust?" A woman from the Indian delegation scoffed. "This isn't about trust. This is about survival. If that pyramid falls, the veil will weaken further, and more of those creatures will walk freely."
A British representative leaned forward. "While In Hogwarts Morpheus Everglade has been a wildcard at best. He's powerful, yes, but extremely unpredictable. What if he's just as much a threat as the beings we're fighting letting him in could be just as dangerous as not."
Silence fell for a moment before a deep voice broke it. "He is unpredictable," a German war mage admitted, his arms crossed. "But he's also the only one holding that battlefield together, the only one that actually knows what we fight against. We wait too long, and we might not have a battle left to reinforce."
Tenzin exhaled slowly, his sharp eyes scanning the room. "So," he said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "The question is not whether Egypt needs our help. The question is whether we are willing to stake our forces on a single man's gamble."
No one answered immediately. The debate raged on.
And then—
***
The sands roared as the ritual completed.
Morpheus stood at the center of the vast diagram, the Stone of Dreams embedded in his chest pulsing with an ethereal glow. The runes carved into the sand erupted with golden light, sending waves of power rippling through the battlefield. The ground trembled, then split open.
From the shifting dunes, towering figures rose. Their bodies were carved from sandstone, adorned with ancient armor, and their faces bore the beaked visage of falcons and ibises, reminiscent of the warriors that had once defended this land. Hieroglyphs burned along their limbs, their movements precise and unnaturally swift.
With a unified cry, they launched forward.
The first of them drove a curved khopesh through a snarling demon's throat, sending black ichor spraying into the air. Another ripped an angel from the sky, slamming it into the ground before crushing its skull beneath a massive stone foot.
The battlefield was chaos, but it was controlled chaos.
Morpheus turned, his breathing steady, his magic still coursing through the ritual. The Sage's Eye moved in tandem with the summoned warriors, cutting down enemies with ruthlesly as they tried once more to gain a footing in this battle.
But for every enemy slain, more took their place.
A demon broke past the sand guardians, its blade descending toward Alec Dorne, only for Evelyn Cross to intercept it, her wand slashing through the air. The creature's arm twisted, bones snapping as she transfigured its flesh into brittle crystal before shattering it with a flick.
Ishaan Varma sent a wave of cursed fire lashing across the battlefield, but he was already breathing hard. The strain of constant spellcasting was evident across the Sage's Eye. They had adapted, conserving their magic, but the battle had stretched too long.
And then—
A breach.
Morpheus' eyes snapped to the eastern flank just in time to see the sand guardians falter. A cluster of angels, their divine energy burning brighter than before, punched through the defenses. The falcon-faced warriors collapsed under the celestial onslaught, and demons poured through the gap.
Morpheus' jaw tightened. "Fall back to the kill boxes!" he ordered.
The Sage's Eye didn't hesitate. They sprinted toward the pyramid's entrance, their movements swift and practiced. Behind them, the ground split as another demonic war beast surged forward, its fanged maw opening to devour them—
Only for Morpheus to twist his wand, turning the creature's skull into brittle sandstone. It collapsed under its own weight, its howl cut short.
But the breach was widening.
Even with the ritual's defenses, the enemy was adapting. The sand warriors fought valiantly, but they were finite. Morpheus knew this couldn't hold forever.
The sky darkened. A deep, guttural sound echoed across the battlefield.
And then
A blinding flash.
For a single breath, everything was still.
Then, figures appeared.
Dozens of them, clad in flowing robes, their wands raised. The air crackled with immense magical force as spells erupted across the battlefield in controlled, devastating bursts. A hailstorm of enchanted silver tore through a cluster of demons. A massive wave of conjured water slammed into the angels, knocking them from the sky.
ICW reinforcements. Some of them stopped to gape as they saw Morpheus surrounded by sand and creatures.
He looked terrifyingly calm.
Morpheus let out a slow breath. "Took you long enough," he murmured.
The battlefield shifted. The demons and angels that had begun to overwhelm the defenders suddenly found themselves caught between two fronts. The ICW forces were disciplined and relentless, pushing forward with coordinated precision.
But even as the tide turned, a deeper presence loomed.
Morpheus felt it before he saw it.
A cold weight settled over the battlefield. The sand trembled—not from magic, not from battle, but from something greater.
The god shifted as it trying to find out how best to move its limbs in this magic rich environment once more.
The celestial fire surrounding its form swirled, and for the first time, it truly focused. Its burning gaze swept across the battlefield, landing on the single greatest threat to its existence.
Not the ICW. Not the sand warriors.
Morpheus.
The god moved. Faster than it should have been possible for something so massive.
Morpheus raised his wand, preparing to counter—
A figure stepped between them.
Tall. Cloaked in shadow and gold. Eyes like obsidian.
Anubis.
The jackal-headed god exhaled, his presence suffocating as he turned to face his mortal enemy.
A single word passed his lips.
"Mine."
The god roared, the battlefield shaking under its power.
And then they clashed.
The battlefield quaked as the two entities clashed.
Anubis, still in his true quadrupedal form, was a blur of lean muscle and sleek black fur. He moved like a shadow, his jackal body gliding over the sand with unnatural grace. The god, a being of fire and shifting sand, swung a massive, molten limb in a wide arc, aiming to crush him.
Anubis dodged effortlessly, weaving through the attacks with terrifying speed. His movements were measured—each step calculated, each dodge precise. Then, in a burst of motion, he struck.
His fangs found purchase.
With a savage lunge, Anubis's jaws clamped down on the god's shoulder. The divine creature howled, the sound reverberating across the battlefield. Molten sand and burning light spilled from the wound, but Anubis did not release his grip. His black eyes gleamed as he twisted, wrenching a chunk of the god's form free before leaping away, just as another burning limb came crashing down.
The god staggered, its form flickering as it struggled to reform. Anubis gave it no time. He was already moving again, his paws barely touching the ground as he circled, his muscles coiled like a predator sizing up its wounded prey.
Then he struck again.
This time, he darted beneath the god's guard, his claws carving deep gouges along its legs. The god lashed out with a blast of golden energy, but Anubis disappeared into the sands, vanishing for a split second before reemerging on the other side of the battlefield. His teeth were bared, his stance unshaken.
He was not just fighting.
He was hunting.
***
Morpheus turned away from the divine battle, his focus shifting back to the ritual. The sand warriors were still emerging, their numbers growing, but it wasn't enough.
Not yet.
Beside him, Khufu stood tall, his robes billowing. His sharp eyes scanned the battlefield with the precision of a seasoned strategist. He was not a warrior, but he knew war.
"Pull the left flank inward," Khufu ordered, his voice steady despite the chaos. "Force them into a choke point."
The sand warriors obeyed. A group of them adjusted their formation, funneling demons and angels alike into a tight corridor between two rising dunes.
"Now," Khufu commanded.
A squadron of ibis-faced warriors descended, their curved blades flashing. The trapped enemies stood no chance. Slashes cut through celestial wings, severed demonic limbs. In seconds, the choke point became a killing ground.
Morpheus smirked. Good.
The magic in his chest pulsed violently, feeding into the ritual. The army was holding—for now. But inside the pyramid, where the real battle was being fought, things were different.
There, the kill boxes were being tested.
***
The tunnels were thick with the stench of blood.
The Sage's Eye had planned for this. The kill boxes were designed for this. But planning was one thing. Reality was another.
The demons and angels had forced their way inside, and the narrow passageways only delayed the inevitable.
Alec Dorne had his back pressed against a crumbling stone wall, sweat and grime streaking his face. His wand flicked, and a charging demon's head twisted violently, its skull snapping with an audible crack.
But there were too many.
"Behind you!" Ishaan Varma shouted.
Alec barely turned in time. A golden spear punched through his chest.
For a moment, he didn't even react. His lips parted, confusion flickering across his face—then he gasped as the angel twisted the weapon, the light burning through his insides.
Evelyn Cross screamed.
Alec slumped forward, blood spilling down his robes. The angel yanked the spear free, already moving toward its next target.
Gideon Marsh roared, his grief fueling his rage. He thrust his wand forward, and the walls of the tunnel collapsed inward, crushing the angel beneath an avalanche of stone.
But there was no time to mourn.
Ishaan gritted his teeth, his arm bleeding from a deep gash. "They're pushing through!"
Gideon turned just in time to see another demon break past the defensive line. A hulking brute with jagged obsidian horns, moving too fast.
Evelyn reacted. Too slow.
The demon's claw ripped through her stomach, sending her crashing into the wall. She crumpled, blood pooling beneath her.
Gideon lost it.
With a savage yell, he drove his wand forward, transfiguring the very magic inside the demon's lungs into razor-sharp glass.
The beast choked. It shuddered. Then it collapsed as its insides tore itself apart.
But the damage had been done.
Evelyn's breaths were shallow. Too shallow. Blood bubbled at her lips as she reached for Gideon. He grabbed her hand, his face twisted in desperation.
"Stay with me," he whispered.
She exhaled—then didn't inhale again.
Gideon squeezed his eyes shut.
Two gone.
And the battle wasn't over.
***
Morpheus felt it.
The deaths. The shift in the battle.
His grip on his wand tightened, but he didn't falter. War had consequences. He had always known that. But it didn't mean he enjoyed knowing people he helped bring up died.
"Khufu," he said, his voice low. "We need to end this."
Khufu's eyes flickered toward him. Then he nodded.
The sand warriors surged.
The battlefield trembled as the ritual army struck with renewed force. Falcons tore through the sky, golden blades carving into angelic wings. Jackal-headed warriors ripped apart demons with unnatural strength.
And beneath it all, Anubis and the god fought on.
But the god was slowing.
It was weakening.
Anubis lunged, his fangs finding the god's throat. He clamped down and ripped.
The celestial creature staggered, golden ichor spilling from its wounds.
It was dying.
Anubis was eating his magic, feasting on his body.
And Morpheus knew exactly how to finish it.
He raised his wand, magic crackling at his fingertips.
"Khufu," he murmured. "Bring it down."
—
A/N: to be clear, with some of these strong attacks by the hit wizards like the glass shard one. It was mainly fuled by his emotions and rage, the magic literally did what his emotions were screaming. In a regular setting a lot of these spells cannot be replicated. Also, reading back I realize that this and the following chapters are really chaotic. Jumping from one thing to the next, I hope it's not confusing as I want to show the mess that war is and not some cookie-cutter sense of the word.
Thank you again for reading, Ik this story isn't very popular but I really want to make it amazing for those that enjoy it lol