Harry Potter: I am the Legend

Staring at the lifeless, hollow eyes of the woman on the deck, Hoffa found himself at a rare loss for words. He was utterly speechless.

Mary had chosen to end her life with a gunshot at the exact moment he feigned death to launch his counterattack.

It was a long while before he recovered enough to speak, his voice low and almost inaudible. "Why didn't you stop her?"

"I thought I could negotiate with her, but by the time I heard the gunshot and turned back, it was already too late," Chloe sobbed, covering her face. "You shouldn't have said those things to her. I told you—don't jinx it!"

Hoffa's throat bobbed as he swallowed, unsure how to respond.

Could he guarantee a victory over Dominic, a wizard assassin renowned for over thirty years? Absolutely not. Especially considering Dominic had numerous subordinates at his command, only restrained by his own jealous, rash decision not to summon them.

Crack.

The sound of ice fracturing echoed beneath his feet.

Looking back, the black-robed figures who had left earlier were now reappearing like phantoms, emerging from all directions. They had encircled the lifeboat long before the battle had even ended.

Seeing no other option, Hoffa lifted Mary's body and gently laid it on the fractured, melting ice.

"Let's go. If we don't leave now, it'll be too late," he urged Chloe.

But she didn't move.

"Come on!" Hoffa insisted. "What are you waiting for?"

Still, Chloe remained frozen in place, biting her lip as if wrestling with some internal struggle.

Frustrated, Hoffa snapped, "You've only known her for three days! You're not seriously going to throw your life away for hers, are you?"

His words seemed to snap Chloe out of her daze. She looked up, her emotions unraveling. "You don't care."

"What?"

"You don't care about her death. You don't care about anyone's death. All you care about is getting to England."

Hoffa glanced at the fast-approaching speedboats in the distance and felt like he had hit an immovable wall. "Fine, we'll argue later. Let's just get out of here first. Once we're safe, you can blame me all you want."

"I'm not blaming you," Chloe said, her voice trembling. "But I promised her. I promised I'd take her to England."

"She's dead, Chloe!"

"No." Chloe stood, her resolve hardening. "I didn't stop her because I was overwhelmed. But I can use my power—I can go back. I can stop her from pulling the trigger."

Hoffa's mouth fell open in shock. He had never imagined Chloe would choose such a dangerous course of action at a time like this.

The ice beneath them shattered further as the black-robed wizards began to lift the freezing spell on the ocean. Hoffa's footing gave way, and he slipped, half his body plunging into the frigid water.

He clung to the edge of the ice to avoid falling in completely.

The temperature rose rapidly, shifting from winter's chill to the heat of summer in the blink of an eye.

Blood from his wounds seeped into the water, forming a crimson halo around him. Beneath the surface, sharks circled, drawn to the scent.

On the ice above, Chloe grabbed Hoffa's arm. He thought she was going to pull him up, but instead, she began unfastening the black metal glove from his arm.

Hoffa's eyes widened in alarm. "Lemay, I'm warning you—don't make this worse! You're still bleeding, and I'm in no condition to help. If you use it again and get caught in a temporal rift, what then?"

Chloe ignored his warning, holding the glove tightly as she locked eyes with Hoffa. Her gaze was piercing. "I want to know—why are you so desperate to take me to England? A man like you shouldn't care about my life at all."

"I..."

"Speak!"

Chloe leaned closer, staring down at him. The scene mirrored Jack and Rose on the edge of the Titanic.

Hoffa froze, unable to find the words to explain his past or his motivations.

Chloe's expression darkened with an unspeakable sorrow. She let out a bitter laugh, her voice trembling as she murmured, "A pitiful man only ever notices himself. His life will lose all meaning. A double death awaits him—falling from his pedestal into the filth below, without lament, honor, or song to remember him by."

Click.

The mechanical glove slid onto Chloe's wrist.

The dials spun rapidly.

Magical energy surged into her body, turning her eyes pure white. Agony twisted her face, far worse than when Hoffa had once removed the eye embedded in her back.

A violent wave of magical power rippled across the ocean's surface.

But this time, Hoffa didn't feel the familiar pull of a Portkey. Instead, an oppressive force pressed against his chest, as if a massive hammer had struck him. He struggled to breathe.

"Damn it!"

He ignored the mortal threat posed by the temporal flares, painstakingly clawing his way across the ice to pull himself out of the water. Without hesitation, he grabbed Chloe's wrist and forcibly dragged her onto the lifeboat. Even if they were to fall into the chaotic currents of time, he couldn't let her face it alone.

As soon as they reached the deck, a deep and overwhelming psychic pressure descended upon them. Hoffa collapsed to the deck, his ears ringing with a strange, distant echo—melancholic and forlorn, like an infrasonic hum.

"Woooo…"

A dense, white mist rose from the sea, thick and impenetrable, reminiscent of the most severe smog in modern BJ. The fog was so heavy that even Chloe's face, mere inches away, was obscured.

Something approached—vast beyond comprehension, hailing from the farthest edges of what he could know or imagine. It brushed against his soul, invading his mind.

"Woooo…"

The sound grew louder, its pitch mournful and haunting.

Hoffa's consciousness began to blur. Instinctively, he clung tightly to Chloe's wrist, praying that when the temporal chaos subsided, she would still be by his side.

The thick fog enveloped the sea.

On the deck of the cruiser Scharnhorst, Mance Muller stood with a furrowed brow. The sudden mist had caught him off guard.

He turned and picked up the intercom. "What's happening?"

"Dominic's dead—his head's been cut off!" someone shouted through the receiver.

"Forget Dominic. Focus on finding Lemay!"

"I understand, but… but we've encountered the fog," came the hesitant reply, punctuated by bursts of static. The signal was unstable.

"Lemay—did you catch her?"

"She and Bach disappeared into the fog. We're debating whether to go in."

"What are you thinking? Bring Lemay back at all costs!" Mance's tone was unusually agitated.

"Understood… wait. Do you hear that, Colonel?"

"Hear what?"

"A strange sound. It's like… like a whale singing. Ah!"

The voice on the other end was cut off with a startled cry, replaced by chaotic static.

"Hello?!"

"Hello?!"

Mance called out twice, but there was no response.

His brows knit tighter as he set down the intercom.

A nearby black-robed figure, face filled with worry, asked, "What happened, Colonel?"

Mance remained silent for a moment before issuing a calm but firm command:

"Dominic is dead. Secure this ship. Eliminate any resistance. And round up everyone on that small freighter ahead—don't let a single one escape."

The sea breeze whistled through coral and rock crevices, producing eerie, distorted sounds. Twisted sunlight filtered through the hazy clouds, casting a pale glow over the beach.

The lifeboat lay skewed in the sand, its bow lodged at an angle. A young man lay sprawled on its deck, fists clenched. His stillness was broken only by faint, sporadic twitches. No one could tell how much time had passed.

Above, the sun showed no signs of setting.

Hoffa couldn't tell how long he'd been unconscious.

It felt like an eternity. When he finally woke, his entire body ached as though he'd been crushed by a steamroller. His bones creaked and popped as he stirred.

He didn't move immediately, choosing to lie still and check whether his limbs and body were injured. Only after confirming he was intact did he slowly struggle to sit up.

His head was still spinning, the air thick with the stench of rotting seaweed. The sound of waves lapping against the boat filled his ears, but beyond that, all his senses were numb.

The last thing he remembered before passing out was Chloe using her powers to disrupt time, determined to save her newly met friend, Mary.

"Another jump?"

He unbuttoned his shirt to inspect his chest and arms.

As expected, Chloe had taken the magical glove. But to his surprise, there were no signs of the terrifying temporal flares from before. This brought him a small sense of relief but left him puzzled.

His body hadn't crystallized. Did that mean Chloe hadn't dragged him into a temporal rift? But he distinctly remembered using all his strength to hold onto her hand before losing consciousness.

This thought was more terrifying than entering a time rift. If they had been separated in this chaotic era, he had no idea how he would ever find her again.

He scrambled to his feet, wincing as the movement tore at his wounds, sending sharp pain through his body.

As expected, the lifeboat was empty. He was completely alone.

(End of Chapter)

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