Seeing President Seraphina Picquery arrive with a fresh wave of Aurors and elite wizards, Grindelwald's expression darkened.
Carl's attacks hadn't injured him, but they were relentless and strategic, pushing him into an increasingly unfavorable position. If this dragged on and he found himself surrounded by dozens more spellcasters, he'd be forced to unleash high-level area destruction spells like the Fiendfyre Curse.
But doing so would come at a cost. The entire MACUSA building could be reduced to ash, and countless wizards might die as collateral. That was not something Grindelwald could afford—not if he still wanted to be seen as a visionary revolutionary and not just another dark sorcerer consumed by bloodlust.
He could kill Muggles without hesitation. He could even destroy cities if necessary to shatter the Statute of Secrecy. But killing fellow wizards en masse? That would make him a pariah in the very world he sought to lead.
And in that critical moment of hesitation, Carl caught the faintest flicker of distraction in Grindelwald's eyes. Instinctively, he tilted his head toward Newt Scamander and gave a subtle nod.
Understanding instantly, Newt quietly opened his palm to reveal a Winged Demon he'd hidden there. The tiny creature fluttered out with unnatural speed.
Meanwhile, Carl switched tactics. His left hand continued to hurl spears from the bottomless pouch at his hip, but his right hand shifted from offensive magic to a steady stream of smoke screen spells.
Thick clouds of gray smoke burst outward, quickly shrouding Grindelwald in a fog of swirling confusion. Deprived of visibility, the dark wizard twitched his wand upward—but did not strike.
He sensed the approaching Winged Demon and could have batted it away with a flick of his wand. But he hesitated again. This was a losing battle. Even if he fought his way through, he wouldn't be able to escape without killing dozens—maybe hundreds.
That would destroy everything he'd built so far. The narrative of the misunderstood reformer, the voice of the oppressed wizarding class, would be lost.
Better to get captured.
He'd bide his time in confinement. Escape would come later. It always did. And when he did escape, the propaganda of being wrongfully imprisoned by the Magic Congress could work in his favor.
So instead of resisting, Grindelwald allowed the Winged Demon to wind itself around his arms. Its tail snapped out like a whip, wrapping securely around his wrists.
Newt grabbed the creature's tail and gave a firm yank. With a clatter, Grindelwald's wand dropped to the marble floor.
"Accio!" shouted Tina Goldstein, wasting no time. The wand soared into her outstretched hand.
Carl, glancing at the wand, realized it wasn't the Elder Wand stored in his mission space—it was Grindelwald's backup. A smart precaution by the dark wizard.
The smoke cleared.
When President Picquery and the delegates from the International Confederation of Wizards reached the lobby, they found Grindelwald restrained, disarmed, and surrounded by Carl, Newt, and Tina.
President Picquery exhaled slowly, visibly relieved. She stepped forward, the sharp click of her heels echoing through the hall.
"Mr. Foley, Mr. Scamander, Ms. Goldstein," she said solemnly, "you have not only thwarted a terrorist attack but have protected the very fabric of our magical society. The Magical Congress is deeply indebted to you."
The gathered wizards murmured their agreement, many of them looking at the trio with newfound admiration. After all, Grindelwald had single-handedly overwhelmed twenty elite Aurors mere moments earlier. That the three of them managed to contain him without bloodshed was nothing short of extraordinary.
"Take him to solitary confinement," Picquery commanded. "Ensure he is secured in the deepest ward of our most fortified prison."
The Aurors, cautious and alert, surrounded Grindelwald. As they fastened magical restraints around his arms and legs, he turned his gaze toward Carl.
"You three are impressive," he said calmly, his eyes lingering on Carl. "Especially you."
Carl gave no response.
If it hadn't been for Carl's relentless, high-pressure attacks, Grindelwald would have had ample opportunity to incapacitate Tina and Newt. Instead, Carl had disrupted the flow of battle just enough to force Grindelwald into a position of surrender.
"You will be tried by the International Confederation for your crimes," Picquery informed Grindelwald firmly.
He merely chuckled. "You really think you can keep me locked away?"
"We will do our utmost," she replied sharply.
With that, Grindelwald was escorted away.
As the immediate threat faded, the injured were tended to, and order gradually returned to the chaos-stricken MACUSA building. Carl, Newt, and Tina were taken aside by Picquery and the international delegates to give a full account of the events.
In the hours that followed, misunderstandings were cleared. Newt and Tina's prior charges were dismissed. Tina, now recognized for her bravery and intuition, was reinstated as Chief Auror.
Newt, with special permission, was allowed to return his Thunderbird to its native habitat. Though his suitcase still contained many dangerous magical creatures, he was permitted to stay in the U.S. just long enough to complete that mission.
As for Carl, he was formally awarded the Brave Wizard's Medal—MACUSA's highest honor for magical valor. He was also granted lifetime privileges within the United States magical community, including unrestricted access to government-owned magical items such as portkeys, magical carriages, and emergency floo points.
Grindelwald's failed attempt to assassinate U.S. senators and incite a war between wizards and No-Majs was now fully exposed. With the death of Senator Shaw and the chaos at the rally, it became clear that Grindelwald's goal had been to spark a catastrophic conflict.
Thankfully, that dark future had been averted.
"I'm going to head back to Magic Street and rest," Carl said, casually waving to Newt and Tina at the steps of the Congress building. "Today's been a bit much, don't you think?"
Newt nodded with a warm smile, handing Carl the mischievous Niffler who had escaped earlier. "Thanks, Carl. Really. We'd still be locked up—or worse—if you hadn't stepped in."
Tina added, "You saved all of us. Thank you."
Carl just chuckled, shrugged, and turned away. As they headed off to search for Newt's missing creatures, Carl had other matters on his mind.
Once he was out of sight, he didn't go to Magic Street.
Instead, he Apparated directly to a dilapidated church in a forgotten district of the city.
He had unfinished business.
Grindelwald had come to New York seeking an Obscurial—a child born from suppressed magical energy. He had believed it was someone young, hidden away in the orphanage. But Carl knew the truth: it was Credence Barebone.
Even with Grindelwald now captured, Carl couldn't allow the American authorities to take Credence. Not only would they fail to understand his power, but they would likely kill or suppress him.
Carl had other plans.
"Transformation Technique," he murmured.
His appearance shimmered and shifted into that of Percival Graves—the identity Grindelwald had used to deceive Credence.
But Carl wasn't here to manipulate the boy.
He intended to keep his promise.
Grindelwald had lied to Credence. Carl would give him truth. Real training. A place in the magical world.
And when the time came, Carl would have at his side one of the most dangerous magical entities in the world—someone strong enough to rival even Dumbledore or Grindelwald.
Carl stepped through the cracked wooden doors of the church.
"Credence," he called gently. "I've come to take you home."