Early the next morning, before dawn had fully broken, the air was thick with the scent of metal and magic.
The Gate of Worlds hummed within its energy circuits, light flowing along the runes like liquid.
Linus stood before the gate, his fingertip lightly touching the center of the runic array.
After a night of deliberation, a singular thought had crystallized— This laboratory had to be moved off Earth.
The magic radiating from the Gate of Worlds was far too striking.
Any high-grade wizard within a few kilometers could sense the power.
Combined with the large number of Muggle prisoners and Dark wizards utilized during his experiments, even the slightest trace left behind would eventually allow the Ministry of Magic to follow the breadcrumbs.
No matter how airtight the defensive wards were, there was always a chance of being exposed.
Reason told him that Earth was no longer safe.
The only place of absolute safety was the Moon.
This was no impulse, but the result of rigorous deduction.
Distant enough, a stable surface, free from interference by living beings—an ideal spot for an independent research facility.
As long as the Gate of Worlds functioned, he could reach any coordinates.
Runes flared, and the heavy metal doors slowly opened.
He gripped his Undetectable Extension trunk tightly; all data, experimental apparatus, and core devices had been stowed inside.
With a pulse of energy, the Gate of Worlds dissolved into a stream of light, swallowing him and his entire experimental setup whole.
If an astronomical telescope were pointed at the lunar surface at that exact moment, an observer would witness an impossible sight— A massive silver gate materializing out of thin air, followed by a figure stepping out, making no sound upon landing.
His first step settled onto the pale gray dust.
There was no wind in the vacuum, only an icy, bone-chilling silence.
With no atmosphere to breathe, oxygen was nonexistent.
Linus immediately cast the Bubble-Head Charm, wrapping himself in a silvery sphere that supplied his lungs with crisp oxygen.
Next, he activated a Gravity Charm—an arcanum born from years of alchemical study, inspired by the “Anti-Gravity Tree” recorded in *Goshawk’s Guide to Magical Plants*.
It was a strange flora that grew suspended high in mountain peaks, its root system capable of generating an inverted gravitational field.
Linus had personally traveled to the Nepalese mountains to confer with local wizards on its structural principles.
Years later, he had finally mastered the gravity-manipulation formula, casting it now as effortlessly as breathing.
His footing stabilized.
The surface dust was loose due to the low gravity, but by precisely regulating his magic, he balanced his body’s weight with the surface tension, keeping himself from sinking in.
He then cast a Heating Charm to adjust the surrounding temperature and ward off the freezing lunar night.
He relocated the Gate of Worlds to the dark side of the moon, where the terrain provided natural cover.
Digging a shaft with earth magic, silver-gray debris flew as a deep cavern took shape beneath the resonance of his magic.
He sealed the cave entrance with bedrock and runes, then cast an Undetectable Extension Charm, expanding the interior space a hundredfold.
Next, he deployed the laboratory modules stored inside his trunk one by one—the alchemy lab, the rune lab, the gene pod, the database—each settling precisely into place.
The walls were lined with climate-control arrays, and gravity circuits were etched into the floor.
Magical plants sprouted from culture dishes, while purification spells reconstructed the air, bringing oxygen levels and humidity to near-Earth conditions.
A new sanctuary had taken form.
A few days later, the defensive matrix was fully activated.
Hundreds of defensive spells were layered together, encompassing illusions, invisibility, spatial disruption, and mental interference.
If any wizard approached, all they would perceive was a dead, empty void.
He named this subterranean space: the Moon Base.
With the new base established, experiments resumed.
The primary research objectives remained the “Life Code” and the “Werewolf Transformation Factor.” Recently, he had successfully refined a bloodline-reconstructing substance from the infection source, naming it the “Lunar Silver Factor.” This molecule could seamlessly integrate into a bloodline sequence and trigger localized magical restructuring.
If controlled properly, it might even grant Muggles the ability to wield magic directly.
Instruments hummed as streams of runic light circled.
The utter stillness of the moon’s surface stood in eerie contrast to the deep thunder of the underground laboratory.
A week later, the research reached a temporary milestone.
The magical reaction chain reached a stability rate of seventy percent—still not enough for live testing.
Just then, a communication mirror flickered, casting a silver glow into the air.
A familiar figure appeared in the glass— Momo the house-elf.
Her voice was urgent: “Master, an anomaly occurred at Gringotts.
Hagrid brought Harry Potter into the bank, and it’s said they took out something extremely valuable.” Linus’s expression shifted slightly.
“The Philosopher’s Stone.” That artifact had been on his research checklist years ago.
If he could obtain it, his study of the Life Code would leap into a whole new era.
However, the window to snatch the stone was fleeting.
The Gate of Worlds allowed him to return to Earth at a moment’s notice.
The energy array activated, swathed in silver light.
The Moon Base fell into a brief silence, leaving only runes pulsing faintly in the dark.
In a flash of light and shadow, his figure vanished.
…
At dawn, Diagon Alley bustled with crowds.
Linus appeared in a shadow, slipping on a Disillusionment Charm to blend seamlessly into the throngs.
In front of Gringotts’ marble doors, Hagrid pushed clumsily through the crowd, clutching envelopes and bags with an anxious look.
Not far away, several wizards disguised as Muggles silently trailed him.
*Dumbledore truly trusts no one completely,* Linus thought.
It was impossible to steal the Philosopher’s Stone right now.
The guards were too strict; the risk of the plan was too high.
His gaze swept past the light and shadow at the corner of the street before withdrawing.
There was no disappointment, only cold calculation.
The essence of research was never about blind stealing, but about understanding.
The Philosopher’s Stone would eventually be brought to Hogwarts.
That would be his true opportunity.
A gust of wind swept down the cobblestone street, slightly rustling the wizards’ hats.
Linus walked away down the stone path with measured, unhurried steps.
Dust swirled in the wind as distant bells chimed softly.
Deep in the forgotten shadows of the moon, the silver gate stood silent, like an eye silently gazing upon the world.
Unnoticed by anyone, the prelude to a new era was quietly unfolding.