The ghost of Helena Ravenclaw was invited by the professors to the second floor of the White Tower, but the woman they were treating as their savior frowned and looked at the spherical neural host with disgust.
"It looks disgusting!" Helena retched.
The professors tried to persuade her patiently, especially McGonagall and James, who had poured countless hours of effort into sculpting the brain.
"But it's beautiful! Look at that glass-smooth cerebral membrane. Look at those crisscrossing neural networks. Those connection points are like countless stars in a pale sky. It's practically a work of art!"
James praised it in an exaggerated tone, though his description was actually not wrong at all. By human standards of beauty, the Celestial central brain was indeed beautiful. It had none of the sticky, bloody texture of biological tissue. Instead, it had the texture of a stone sculpture and an oil painting. Suspended in the crystal-clear cultivation pool, it looked like a vast celestial sphere wrapped around a nebula, its colors endlessly changing.
Professor McGonagall looked at the central brain in the cultivation pool, her eyes full of pride. "It is one of our finest works."
Lady Helena still shook her head. "Can't you see all those long hairs stretching out of it?"
"Is there such a thing?" The living people all looked puzzled.
Skyl explained, "The Celestial brain's innate psychokinetic power unconsciously radiates outward. It can't be distinguished with the naked eye, but ghosts can see it. In Lady Ravenclaw's eyes, this central brain probably looks like a terrifying sphere covered in translucent hairs that are constantly waving around."
Dumbledore explained the central brain's purpose to Lady Helena. "This is a piece of research that can change the wizarding world. Its appearance is as important to Hogwarts as the moment Hogwarts itself was born. And this honor cannot be achieved without your help."
Helena immediately perked up after hearing that, though she still asked slyly and suspiciously, "Are you telling the truth? Is this really an honor comparable to the Four Founders?"
"Even greater, in fact!" Dumbledore's smile was friendlier than a salesman's. "No single founder could match this achievement. In the future, every Hogwarts student will praise your name, and history will remember your contribution."
If this had been the former proud and lonely Helena, who had already tasted the bitterness of chasing fame and profit, she would not have been interested. But as it happened, she had now regained her younger state. Helena Ravenclaw at this age had been the kind of stubborn person who would steal her mother's diadem for the sake of honor and run away from home for years without returning.
"Then I'll try," Lady Helena said, tempted.
Dumbledore gave Snape a look. Snape understood at once and tipped a cauldron beside the cultivation pool into the culture fluid. Inside it was a mixed potion made from the Draught of Living Death, an enhancer, the Elixir to Induce Euphoria, and a calming agent. It could be called a Sweet Dreams Draught. If a normal person drank even one drop of it, they would immediately fall into an infant-like sleep.
After the Celestial central brain came into contact with the potion, the flowing lights flashing across its neural network suddenly dimmed.
"That will do." Grindelwald saw through the scrying instrument that the central brain's neural activity had begun to show regular fluctuations, and he understood that it had already fallen into a dream.
Everyone turned their expectant gazes toward Helena, but the young-looking ghost began to lose her nerve.
"I… I'm still afraid."
Skyl comforted her softly. "Don't worry. No matter what happens, I'll make sure you remain safe and sound."
Helena stared deeply into Skyl's eyes and could not see the slightest trace of a lie in them. So, suppressing her disgust and fear, she reached out and touched the Celestial central brain.
The moment she came into contact with the outer layer of crystal-clear cerebral membrane, the ghost's body turned into flowing water and rapidly seeped inside. She only had time to let out one scream before she completely vanished.
Everyone was clearly startled by Helena's reaction.
"Skyl, nothing will happen to her, right?" James hurriedly asked, while the others also looked at Skyl.
"Have any of you tried entering the central brain's dream?" Skyl looked around at everyone.
Dumbledore nodded. "I tried. The experience was terrible. I felt as if I had been thrown out of the world, struggling in endless darkness. All my thoughts and memories were like stones dropped into a deep well, without the slightest echo. I kept casting Soul-Capturing Charms. Every time I shaped a little light, it was immediately swallowed by the darkness. Until Professor Gellert woke me, I had still failed to complete the earliest stage of the third step."
Skyl understood that very well.
"That is the night of the world, when no concepts have yet been born, and even space and time do not exist. You only entered the dream with your consciousness, and even that carried a certain amount of risk. Lady Ravenclaw entered with her soul. If she cannot maintain herself, she will be devoured by the central brain."
Skyl had once transformed into the soul of Heaven's Will and entered the gap between cosmic cycles. That was the moment when the old world had already perished, but the new world had not yet been born. Matter had not appeared, history had not begun to move, and no concepts had yet come into existence.
If the ascended Humanimals had not awakened him, Skyl would truly have died. Even so, the process of recovering himself had been extremely long.
The Celestial central brain's dream was likewise a void. If any soul entity entered it without a strong enough sense of self, it would become lost inside and eventually be "digested."
The reflection of self-recognition upon the soul was the thought-form. If the central brain's dream was the sea, then the thought-form was the boat. If this outer shell of the soul was strong enough, it could withstand the waves of the strings of thought. Otherwise, it would be like a clay idol crossing a river, helpless to save itself.
The simplest way to increase the strength of a thought-form was to become famous like Lockhart, gaining the support of people's thoughts by winning renown.
All other methods were very difficult. The most painful method was self-cultivation, going through merciless self-criticism and enduring the test of the world's furnace in order to shape a thought-form as hard as iron.
Among all the wizards present, Skyl's thought-form was the most stable, so stable that it had already formed a physical object like the Self Stone. After all, he had already completed the road to godhood and had once absorbed the souls of all life in the Marvel Universe. Mortals could not be compared to him.
Helena's thought-form was actually not as strong as Dumbledore's. After all, Dumbledore was the greatest wizard of the twentieth century, still very famous within the wizarding world, small though that world might be. He had also experienced many things, and his own self-recognition was very strong, meaning he had cultivated himself both externally and internally.
But Helena's unique advantage lay in the fact that the Bloody Baron's obsession was constantly repairing her thought-form. Because of that, she had a chance of maintaining herself inside the Celestial dream.
If Helena was not assimilated by the central brain, then she would be able to control it in turn.
As long as she could control the central brain, it would be equivalent to building a sheltered harbor on the sea. When the consciousness of other wizards entered the dream, they would have a place to stay and could carry out soul-entity programming smoothly.
On the second floor of the White Tower, the professors stared at the cultivation pool. For a time, no one spoke. Everyone was worried for Lady Helena.
Grindelwald stared closely at the scrying instrument. The central brain's neural activity was like a gentle, repeating tide. He could not see Helena's influence. In those waves, there was not a single unusual peak signal.
As time passed, everyone's expressions became more and more anxious. Dumbledore leaned against the workbench where potions were being brewed, unable to hide the exhaustion on his face. Professor McGonagall stood guard by the pool like a green pine. Flitwick clutched a checkered handkerchief and paced back and forth on the spot. Professor Sprout checked the herbal materials and counted a bundle of peppermint used to make the Elixir to Induce Euphoria several times. Hagrid was wiping sweat with a dirty handkerchief big enough to serve as a tablecloth. He was already panting slightly, as if it were the height of summer.
James noticed that Snape was still flipping through his own Wizard's Guide and could not help feeling both admiration and irritation at his composure. He walked over and quietly glanced at the page in Snape's hand. It was packed with dense writing, along with an illustration of a large cauldron.
The cauldron looked somewhat familiar to him, especially the hooded skeleton standing beside it, which instantly reminded James of the Death he had seen when he was resurrected.
"What are you reading?"
As if a poisonous insect had stung his finger, Snape snapped the book shut and said with disgust, "Peeking is not a good habit, Mr. Harker. I hope this is the last time."
"I'm only envious that you have a treasure like the Guide," James said sincerely. "But I noticed you seem to be studying a ritual related to Death?"
"That is none of your business."
James still wanted to ask why the old bat was studying resurrection rituals, but at that moment, Grindelwald suddenly shouted, "There's a reaction!"
Everyone hurriedly gathered around the scrying instrument. Deep within the neural network, a center point like a pulse had appeared. Rings of pulse signals spread outward like ripples on water, showing a faint trace of life.
"Did it succeed?" Dumbledore asked excitedly.
"Not yet. Right now, it's equivalent to having built a raft on the sea. She can only barely stand firm. Our goal is to build an island," Skyl said. "We need to go in and help. Lady Ravenclaw has already done something remarkable by reaching this step. Without external help, I'm afraid it will be very difficult for her to stay conscious."
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