Regulus of Hogwarts: Lord of the Stars

Regulus landed at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid's cabin was dark. In the pumpkin patch, the big dog named Frosty huddled in its kennel, its ears perking up briefly before drooping back down.

He instantly Apparated, and the next moment, his feet landed on the sticky velvet mat in the center of the hollow.

As soon as he raised his head, his magical perception spread out and he saw a scene he shouldn't have seen.

In the clearing in the center of the nest, Aragog and Mossag were entangled together, their sixteen legs overlapping.

They are mating.

Aragog was much larger than Mossag, with a dark black carapace pressing down on its grayish-brown belly.

The two thickest legs clamped tightly onto her body, the hard spikes at the tips of her feet embedded in the soft membrane at the edge of her plastron, sinking in and unable to be pulled out.

Mossag let out a long hiss, the last note rising as if something was pushing it open from the inside.

The hiss echoed through the depression along the spider silk, even stopping the small spiders lurking nearby. They lay motionless, their chelicerae tucked under their heads and thoraxes, their eight legs curled up as if in worship.

Aragog's movements became faster and faster.

Mosag's hiss grew louder and louder, its belly swelled even higher, and its carapace was stretched almost transparent, revealing something churning beneath.

Mucus seeped from the crevices of the plastron, trickling down the spider silk and pooling on the ground in a murky puddle.

Several small spiders crawled out of the shadows, scrambling over to dip their chelicerae into the puddle of slime and lick it.

Their bellies swell slightly as they feed, and their carapaces are covered in the same murky substance.

Regulus's magical perception was still active, and he was struck by the impact.

The impact of magic was more direct than visual; the predator's aura, mixed with reproductive instinct, was intense, primal, and carried the dark attribute unique to the Eight-Eyed Giant Spider's life force when it erupted.

The oppressive feeling of a living being completely released in the face of its most basic needs was so intense, it was like having someone press your face into your mouth and take a sniff.

Mosag's magic fluctuated violently, surging outwards in waves. Aragog's magic pressed down on it, crushing it and then causing it to coalesce again.

He stood there, stunned for two seconds.

He's only twelve years old, how could he have ever seen anything like this?

Even if his soul contained another complete memory, even if that memory contained all sorts of things, the scene before him was still beyond his comprehension and imagination.

He even felt his magic power shrink slightly.

The mind has been polluted.

The visual impact was significant.

He's not clean anymore.

He used Apparition to instantly disappear.

The next moment, he stood on a protruding rock at the edge of the depression, with his back to the nest and his face towards the depths of the forbidden forest.

There were no trees around the depression, the moon hung in the sky, and the mist drifted with the wind, but those things seemed distant and unreal.

He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the surging feeling in his chest, but couldn't. He took another breath, but still couldn't suppress it.

The residual magical perception lingered in his mind, the details so clear that they made him very uncomfortable.

He closed his eyes, about to activate the brain shut-off technique, to peel that memory from the surface of his consciousness, stuff it into the isolation zone, and seal it off.

Technically, he can do it; he can either completely seal it or destroy it directly. With his current mental strength, doing this would be no problem for him.

But he didn't act immediately; an idea suddenly popped into his head.

The impact of what just happened on his mind came from the information itself, from what the image carried. No one attacked him intentionally; the information did it on its own.

Make him uncomfortable, make him nauseous, make him physically unwell, but that's all, nothing more.

What if a piece of information itself could carry something that could destroy reason?

Then it's not just information; it's a weapon.

No spells are needed, no magical resistance is needed, and there is no need for any active mental intrusion or passive defense. All you need to do is let the other party access this information, and then the information will do the rest on its own.

As soon as I see, as soon as I hear, as soon as I perceive, I break down.

He took another deep breath and, following this line of thought, pondered it more deeply.

Is there a kind of existence where the very concept of it can cause those who come into contact with it to collapse?

You don't need to see it, nor be attacked by it; simply knowing that it exists and understanding what it is—this process of understanding itself will tear apart the structure of human rationality.

The human spirit has boundaries. Things within those boundaries can be processed, but things outside those boundaries are fundamentally beyond the scope that the human spirit can bear.

When exposed to this kind of thing, reason will collapse before fear.

Because fear is a reaction, while collapse occurs before the reaction.

Weapons in this direction are impossible to defend against.

Brain shut-off surgery can block active intrusion, but it cannot prevent the dissolution of reason itself once a piece of information enters the field of vision.

Can he become such a being?

Regulus thought of his light magic.

Regulus thought of his light magic.

He has already verified that light can carry information.

If such information could be incorporated into light, he could stand there without casting a spell or making a move; the information would be incorporated the instant the light reflected off him.

Everyone who saw him received that message simultaneously, and simultaneously collapsed, or simultaneously went mad.

But this idea is too far-fetched. It's not that it's impossible, but rather that there isn't enough information available.

The mating scene of those two spiders was disgusting and physically uncomfortable, but it was far from enough to drive someone to the brink of collapse.

However, simply being disgusting isn't necessarily a bad thing; it all depends on how you use it. If used properly, it can still be quite effective.

He stripped that memory from his surface consciousness, pressed it into the isolation zone, sealed it separately, marked it, and kept it as material for external output.

Then I completely suppressed the remaining turmoil and reorganized my state.

He turned his back to the nest, pulling himself out of his thoughts; he had important business to attend to tonight.

Aragog has already crawled out of its lair.

Its body was outlined in the mist, its eight legs landing steadily, each step creating a subtle tremor.

It stopped a few meters in front of Regulus, its uppermost pair of eyes staring at him, their pale light shining exceptionally clearly in the night.

After a moment of silence, Aragog spoke first, his voice still rough and deep: "You've come at a bad time."

Regulus neither turned around nor spoke.

Aragog's chelicerae opened and closed slightly, making a soft clicking sound.

Its tone carried a completely incomprehensible nonchalance towards Regulus: "Reproduction is a necessary act for the continuation of the species. Mosag is in good condition this year, which is a good thing. Why do you want to leave?"

Regulus turned around and glanced at it.

Aragog lay there, his eight legs tucked to his sides, his abdomen rising and falling slightly.

The eyes in the top row held no provocation, no mockery, only a purely biological bewilderment.

It is asking this question seriously.

Regulus said in a very restrained tone, "I just feel like I'm bothering you."

After a while, he asked again, "Don't you spiders care about this?"

He knew that animals do this without carrying people on their backs, but he didn't know if intelligent animals would carry people on their backs. Now that he knew, he still couldn't help but ask.

What if Hagrid just didn't take good care of it?

"What's the point of talking about mating? Procreation?" Its voice held a matter-of-fact bewilderment. "You wizards don't mate?"

Regulus replied indifferently: "Mating."

Aragok then asked, "You don't allow us to watch when you're mating?"

When Regulus asked this question, he even felt that Aragog was a wise man, so profound.

He was silent for a moment, then thought seriously for a while: "Generally, we don't allow it."

He had never seen wizards mating, but he was certain that wizards didn't need anyone else to watch them mate.

Maybe.

He pushed the thought out of his mind.

"You all continue," Regulus said. "I'm looking for Baruch."

Aragok made a short click.

A response came from deep within the nest, a slightly higher-pitched sound than Aragog's, with a light, rhythmic quality.

Aragog turned around and crawled back into the nest, moving his eight legs alternately.

Its eight legs moved at a moderate pace, its abdomen swayed from side to side, and its chelicerae were half-open and half-closed, emitting a series of low gurgling sounds.

It walked to the entrance of the nest, paused, looked back, then turned back and disappeared into the shadows.

Baruch crawled out of the nest, walking quickly, its carapace still covered with bits of velvet padding.

It stopped in front of Regulus, lowered its front half slightly, stretched out its two foremost legs, and lightly touched the rock with its claws.

Regulus watched its movement and raised his hand to wave.

The spider is greeting him.

Baruch had all eight eyes on him, and he raised his front legs and then lowered them, conveying a sense of eager anticipation through his body language.

Regulus sent out his magical senses and scanned the area.

Baruch's magic remained the same, the spider's magic: primal, predatory, dark, with clear racial characteristics.

But emotions were layered over it: anticipation, curiosity, excitement, and something he wasn't quite sure about, like intimacy.

Regulus stepped forward, looking at it: "Still want that feeling from last time?"

Baruch made a series of clicking sounds.

"That...it's very strong..." It tapped its front legs on the ground twice, the rhythm rapid: "I want...to experience it..."

Regulus raised his wand, and a ball of silvery-white light shone from its tip.

But this time, the tone wasn't one of arrogance or contempt, but rather curiosity and eagerness to try.

When the light shone on him, Baruch's body stiffened for a moment, much shorter than last time, and relaxed in less than two seconds.

Unlike last time, it wasn't confused or bewildered. It turned around twice, tapping its front legs on the ground, as if it were experiencing something.

Then it raised its head and made a series of rapid clicking sounds.

Regulus didn't quite understand the string of sounds, but he could roughly guess the meaning: "One more time."