Chapitre 11: Chapter 11: The Awakening of Power
When Harry regained consciousness, he found himself lying on the cold, damp forest floor, with Marcus crouched beside him, concern etched across his features. The light from the fragment still glowed faintly in the center of the stone circle, pulsating like a heartbeat.
"Harry! Are you alright?" Marcus asked, his voice steady but urgent.
Harry blinked, struggling to shake off the remnants of the visions that had flooded his mind. "What just happened?" he managed to say, pushing himself up on his elbows.
"You touched the fragment," Marcus explained, helping Harry to his feet. "It's imbued with ancient magic, linked to the very fabric of reality itself. It shows you memories — echoes of those who wielded it before."
The weight of Marcus's words hung in the air. Harry could still feel the lingering energy from the vision, a kaleidoscope of battles and sacrifices, flashes of powerful Assassins and wizards fighting side by side against darkness. The knowledge that such power existed sent shivers down his spine.
"I saw things… battles," Harry said, his voice barely a whisper. "I saw my mother."
Marcus's expression softened. "The visions can be overwhelming. The Staff and its fragments are connected to every soul that has ever wielded them. They may reveal secrets of the past, but they can also be a burden. We must secure the fragment before it falls into the wrong hands."
As Harry steadied himself, he noticed the glow of the shard was brightening, casting a warm light over the forest. He approached the pedestal again, cautiously this time, drawn to the ancient artifact. Its golden light seemed to resonate with something deep within him, as if recognizing the heir of the Potters.
"What do we do now?" Harry asked, his heart racing with anticipation.
"Take it, but be prepared," Marcus replied. "The Templars will be searching for it. If they learn that you're here, they'll come for you."
Taking a deep breath, Harry grasped the shard. The moment his fingers closed around it, the warmth spread through him, igniting his senses. The power was intoxicating, and for a brief moment, he felt invincible.
But the feeling was short-lived. In an instant, a chilling wind swept through the trees, and shadows danced at the edge of the clearing. A familiar malevolent energy pricked at the back of Harry's mind — they were not alone.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone