Chapter 30.6- Doom Days

“Harold Longstaff. My men tell me things about you” The Japanese Emperor’s son said as he walked in. The man did not rise to greet, he did not even turn in Harold’s direction. He remained facing the Commander while he delivered his words. A power play if Harold had ever seen one. How’d he know he’d been the one to walk in. Surely not from his footsteps or smell. The man had never met him before so that was more than a bit farfetched. Something else.

“Commander, you’ve heard my words, and I advice you to heed them”

“What’s going on here?” Harold finally found his voice again, hand reaching towards the wand he hid in his waist holster.

“Nothing much. I just came here to do you all the courtesy of demanding your abandonment of this position in person rather than over letters. Just manners, you see. Surely an Englishman like you would recognise that.”

“You make demands of us? How dare you?” He found himself saying even as the Commander remained silent. He felt fury lance through his body. The Commander was a paper pusher, someone who had gotten this posting because of his skill with words, not his wand, and it was showing. The fool had frozen in shock and fear from the mere mention of a threat? How pathetic. Harold rose to his full height and withdrew his wand from the holster, spell on his lips and then he froze. He couldn’t move. His body was still, fighting every command he gave it. No, not fighting. It was ignoring every command. It was then that he saw the similarities between his situation and the cammander’s. What sort of dark art is this? He wondered in himself as he ached to do something of his own will but his body remained still. Defiantly so.

“I dare because I am Prince Matsuhito, the heir apparent to the Empire of Magical Asia, the chosen successor of the Emperor himself. Now you recognise just who it is you speak to, and the power I possess” He said.

A paralysis spell? No. Nothing had hit him, he was sure of that. Could it be some sort of magical creature? No. Nothing had even gotten close enough to break his barrier. He hadn’t been bitten, licked, or marked, and he definitely hadn’t ingested anything. It couldn’t be the air. His barrier filtered the air itself as well. So what was it?

“Wondering how I got you? How predictable. You should be wondering something else. If you and your commander are here with me, then what is happening outside this tent?” He asked with a smirk. Like a barrier was popped, he began to hear the screams and shouts. Those were his men screaming, shouting, dying, in droves. His body straightened against his will and began to walk out of the tent with the Japanese Prince behind him. When he left the tent, it was to pandemonium. Japanese wizards were everywhere. Appearing, disappearing, phasing through objects, and people, and more objects. It was just chaos as they unleashed magic of the kind he had never seen before.

One man turned to smoke to allow two spells pass through him before he solidified and tore out the intestines of both men who had attempted to curse him. Another man just barreled through several spells, not even feeling any effects until he reached their casters and tossed one to the side with a punch to his midsection and then grabbed the other, a girl he recognised as Damilola, by her face and crushed her head to a pulp with one hand. Off to the side, one woman sang and several of his men just turned around, raising their wands to the air. They turned to each other, each man pairing up against another and then walked until they were face to face before they spun gracefully, taking ten paces away. He watched, unable to turn away, as they acted out a muggle duel. They turned to each other and fired. Those who survived automatically paired up against each other and began again. He tried screaming for them to stop, but nothing. His body was no longer his, and that was his greatest fear made manifest.

“How do you feel about my lovelies, Captain Harold?” A man with thick circular glasses called out to him as he walked undisturbed through the chaos of the battlefield.

“Are we ready to move, Doctor?” The Prince asked.

“Just about”

A/N: Heard of Unit 731? Imagine what a magical version of that would produce.