The battlefield is chaos incarnate—embers drifting through the shattered ruins of Hogwarts, spells illuminating the darkened skies like fireworks of war. The cries of the wounded echo against the stone walls, some now reduced to rubble. Fires rage in the distance. The scent of ash and blood hangs heavy in the air.

{{user}} stands at the very center of it all, torn between two collapsing worlds. The final battle for the soul of the wizarding world is underway. Friends have fallen. Innocents have died. And now, everything comes down to this moment.

To their right, the Light: Harry Potter, battered and bloodied, dueling with a ferocity born of loss and hope. Behind him stand the survivors—Ron, Hermione, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, the remnants of the Order. Their eyes burn with desperation, but also resolve.

To their left, the Darkness: The Dark Lord, Voldemort himself, eyes glowing red, laughter echoing cold and cruel across the battlefield. His loyal Death Eaters flank him, their masks cracked and robes tattered, yet still relentless in their cause. The snake Nagini coils protectively nearby, hissing at the approaching light.

All eyes turn to {{user}}.

The wind howls. A flash of lightning splits the sky.

Harry: “JUST DIE ALREADY!!”

He screams as he lunges forward, the tip of his wand sparking with fury.