The legendary treasure created by the great alchemist Nicolas Flamel.
The stone is capable of turning metal into gold and even brewing the Elixir of Life.
The object Voldemort had desperately sought at any cost.
And yet—
Lucian Thornwick simply took it out of the Mirror of Erised as casually as if he were retrieving something from his own pocket.
He tossed the still-warm Philosopher's Stone lightly in his palm.
Then, without ceremony, he slipped it into his robe pocket like it was nothing more than an ordinary pebble.
The entire process was smooth and effortless.
As though he had not just bypassed the deepest magical defenses of Hogwarts—barriers personally arranged by Albus Dumbledore.
But had merely taken a quiet stroll in his backyard on a sunny afternoon.
Behind him—
Harry Potter had completely stopped trying to think.
His worldview had been crushed, rebuilt, and crushed again throughout this single night by Lucian's countless impossible actions.
He was numb now.
All he could do was stare blankly at Lucian's calm back—
Like a mortal watching a god casually exercise power.
At last, Harry truly understood something.
Rules…
For this person…
They simply did not exist.
Lucian took the warm, faintly pulsing crimson stone from his pocket and held it in his palm.
A faint golden glow flashed deep within his eyes.
Eyes of Truth — Activated.
In that instant, the legendary alchemical artifact was completely dismantled in his perception, revealing its most fundamental structure.
It was no longer a stone.
It was a perfectly balanced miniature universe.
Lucian could clearly "see" the process:
Ambient magic from the world flowed continuously into the stone.
Inside, billions of complex runic circuits—far more intricate than the motion of galaxies—refined, compressed, and transformed the energy.
At the very core—
The magic condensed into pure streams of life energy, free of impurities.
Energy capable of repairing souls and sustaining existence.
A flawless perpetual converter that transformed magic into life force.
Lucian's lips curved into a faint smile.
So that's how it works.
Eternal life isn't about remaining unchanged…
It's about an eternal cycle of renewal.
He had already seen through the secret of immortality.
Heaven-Defying Comprehension activated.
Research Topic:
How to replicate and improve the Philosopher's Stone's magic-to-life conversion model, and permanently engrave it into one's own soul and magical core?
Spell constructed.
Name:
Life Everlasting.
Lucian slowly closed his eyes.
Inside his body, his magic began circulating in a completely new and profound pattern.
Deep within his soul—
A miniature conversion furnace formed.
Its structure resembled that of the Philosopher's Stone…
But it was simpler.
More efficient.
More perfect.
From that moment onward—
Lucian no longer needed the stone.
His own magic would continuously transform into pure life energy.
It would nourish his soul.
Repair his body.
Preserve him forever at the peak of vitality.
In other words—
From this moment on…
He was immortal.
BOOM!
Just as Lucian completed his transformation, the black magical flame blocking the chamber entrance burst open.
A powerful force tore through it.
Albus Dumbledore rushed in, holding the Elder Wand.
His breathing was slightly hurried.
The gentle smile usually present in his blue eyes was gone.
In its place was sharp focus and determination.
He was ready for battle.
He had expected to witness a brutal confrontation.
He imagined Lucian and Harry standing on the brink of death, desperately fighting Voldemort.
And then—
He would arrive at the critical moment.
Drive back the darkness with his unmatched wisdom and power.
Rescue his students.
And perhaps afterward teach the two reckless boys the most important lesson of the year—
A lesson about love and sacrifice.
But—
The moment he entered the room—
Dumbledore froze.
Everything he expected…
Was missing.
There was no violent battle.
Not even a trace of magical conflict remained in the chamber.
Lucian and Harry were not fighting for their lives.
Harry simply stood in a corner like a stunned spectator.
Dumbledore's gaze slowly moved to the center of the room.
And he saw—
Professor Quirinus Quirrell lying unconscious on the floor like discarded trash.
And beside him—
Lucian Thornwick.
Standing calmly.
One hand in his pocket.
The other casually tosses the crimson Philosopher's Stone up and down like a bored child playing with a marble.
His robes are spotless.
Not a single scratch on him.
Even his hair was perfectly neat.
Dumbledore stopped moving entirely.
His mind—honed by over 150 years of life, sharpened through countless storms and battles—had always believed it could understand anything.
But at that moment—
Faced with this absurdly calm scene…
So completely different from the epic battle he had imagined—
His brain went completely blank.
He simply could not comprehend one thing:
What on earth happened here?
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