Prologue

Part 1: The Avant

Cupboard Under The Stairs, Number # , Privet Drive, Little Whinging, UK.

A boy was sleeping in a small storage cupboard. Tonight, he was having a particularly bad nightmare, causing him to shift uncomfortably in the little space he had in his home under the stairs. Harry James Potter was having a relatively bad dream indeed. ..

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The man, brimming with confidence, is looking down on to multiple people, his gaze piercing the hatred fueled glares he is receiving from the other end. At his side are two people, one has a mask on his face, and the other's face is a mask.

"Gin, tossen, it is time"

"Aizen! What you have done is an act of betrayal greater than any this society has faced! Remember this and this only! Your sins will not go unpunished!"

His words echoing in the silence, and with a sudden motion, Aizen's hands appear to be pointing to a black hole like rift in space.

He peers down once more, to the people, still in a daze from his treacherous act. A terrifying smile forming on his face, he states with slight hints of insanity:

"No one stands on the top of the world. Not you, not me, not even the gods. But the unbearable vacancy of the throne in the sky is over. From now on...I will be sitting on it."

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Panting, the boy lay, frozen in time. Wha-what?

For Harry, nightmares were a common occurrence. He had been suffering these same nightmares each and every night for as long as he could remember. But, something about this one was unnervingly different.

One reason was the bone chilling voice behind the words he had heard in his head. It was different. It wasn't violent, like the voice of the man in all his previous nightmares. He had grown tired of hearing that man's voice, and it no longer haunted him. But the underlying danger and caution in the words of this new person, were enough to make even the strongest of heart shudder in anticipation.

What had he meant? Who was he?

Harry James Potter, had grown accustomed to the concept that his dreams were special. How so you ask?

He had always been perceptive. He could tell what kind of mood others were in just by one glance at their face. He had once used this ability to charm his teachers out of the impending and misinformed detention he would have earned due to the interference of his older cousin, Dudley. His Uncle and Aunt however, just added this as another one of his 'Freak' abilities, and he had sworn himself to stay quiet about his 'sins' as Vernon liked to call them.

Furthermore, in his previous dreams, he had always heard a women crying his name, begging.

"Please not Harry! Anything! I'll do anything!" The women stood in front of a cot, which held a crying child.

"Stand aside women!" A voice hissed, and then the green light. This was where all his previous dreams had come to an end.

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Harry was pondering about the sudden change when he heard a voice break his daydream.

"Boy, get here this moment!" blurted his beet red Uncle.

'Oh right, it is his birthday, better get up then' Remembering what his disconnected relatives were enraged about this early in the Morning. They had been going on and on about Dudley's so-on-so 'Special Day' for the past month, slowly gathering all his presents and hiding them under their bed, but Dudley was such a dimwit that he wouldn't even know to look in the most obvious of spots.

Now disregarding the dream, Harry opened the cupboard door to embrace the cold light outside.

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