Subterranean Core - Skull Island
The heat was absolute.
Despite Ernst's proprietary thermal shielding, the oppressive, scorching aura of the magma below bled through the bedrock.
In the center of the chamber floated a transparent cylinder.
Inside, submerged in a viscous nutrient solution, slept a girl.
She was a genetic chimera. Ernst had woven his own DNA with that of Mystique, Wolverine, and Darwin to stabilize her chaotic mutations.
The result was extraordinary. As she developed, a symbiotic tether formed between her and the Earth's magnetic field.
Ernst suspected she was merging with the Earth's very consciousness, absorbing its planetary energy at the node.
"If you truly are the voice of the Earth," Ernst murmured, gazing at the curled-up twelve-year-old, "you are the perfect notary."
A contract witnessed by the planet itself would be unbreakable.
Ernst manipulated the console. A surgical metal tube pierced the girl's vein, extracting a vial of vivid red blood.
She frowned in her sleep, a ripple of planetary annoyance, but quickly settled back into her deep stasis.
Ernst exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He secured the vial and left the heat behind.
Ernst moved with calculated precision.
He laid out his components: refined magical metals and rare alchemical materials.
Using his abilities, he decomposed and restructured them, etching microscopic runes into every gear and pivot.
He assembled them into a foot-long balance scale. It was exquisite, pulsing with dormant, mystical power.
But it was just an empty vessel.
Ernst retrieved the shimmering, silver remnant of Mephisto's soul, the Law of Trade.
He tapped it against the fulcrum. The conceptual law bled seamlessly into the metal.
Then, he poured the vial of Earth-blood over the scales.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Runes flared to life, weaving a blazing, crimson magic circuit across the gold.
Magical energy surged through the pathways, enveloping the scale in a blinding aura.
The brilliance held for ten minutes before sinking deep into the metal.
When it faded, the physical runes were gone, perfectly concealed. The scale now radiated a quiet, sacred authority.
"Perfection," Ernst whispered, brushing the smooth gold.
Any contract placed on this scale would be bound by the planet itself. To break it was to invite the wrath of the Earth.
Now, he needed parchment.
Ordinary paper would burn under such cosmic weight.
He recalled an alchemical potion from the Hogwarts library.
For higher beings, he would eventually need dragon skin; Smaug wouldn't miss a few scales, and his regeneration was rapid.
For now, the potion would suffice. He contacted the Red Queen, gathered the ingredients, and quickly treated a stack of thick parchment.
"Red Queen," Ernst called out.
"Have Winky bring a house-elf couple to the lab."
Two trembling elves stood before the massive oak desk, awestruck by the towering architecture of the castle.
Ernst didn't look up. He slid a treated parchment across the desk.
"Read it. If there are no issues, sign it," Ernst ordered curtly.
The elves, bound by generations of subservient curses, didn't dare refuse.
They read the document. It was a simple, absolute vow of fidelity, a love contract binding them only to each other.
Relieved, they pricked their claws and signed their names in blood.
The golden scale flared.
A beam of radiant light hit the parchment. The blood signatures ignited, burning into two condensed, glowing spheres.
The spheres shot forward, burying themselves directly into the elves' foreheads.
"Speak," Ernst demanded, leaning forward, his eyes burning with impatience.
"How do you feel?"
The elves rubbed their heads, bewildered.
"Don't stammer," Ernst snapped.
"Report."
"It is... in my mind, Master," one elf squeaked.
"The contract is carved into my thoughts. I know that if I betray it, the punishment will be severe. My life is forfeit."
The other elf nodded frantically in agreement.
"Hah! I succeeded! I am a genius!"
Ernst threw his head back, manic laughter echoing off the cold stone walls.
The elves huddled together, terrified.
"Master? Shall we fetch the healer?"
Ernst's laughter snapped shut. He glared at the quivering creatures, his good mood evaporating at their presumption.
"Get out," he hissed.
"Speak a word of this to anyone, and you will learn exactly how binding that contract is."
The elves vanished with a sharp, terrified crack.
Ernst sat back, his eyes locked on the sacred golden scale.
It was the ultimate trading tool. But a god of commerce couldn't peddle his wares in a dusty laboratory like a common merchant.
"I need a space," Ernst murmured, his mind already racing.
"A designated realm. Magical. Unique. Absolute."
He reached for a fresh blueprint. It was time to build his next masterpiece.
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