Harry Potter: I am the Legend

"They'll be here soon," someone muttered, his voice trembling.

The warship Scharnhorst was ablaze with light, though the air inside was heavy with unease. A black-robed wizard stood before a table, staring at a wet, blackthorn wand that lay ominously upon it. Around him, several other wizards paced nervously, like fledglings sensing an approaching storm.

In the corner, seated in an armchair, Mance held a letter in his hands. The parchment bore the seal of the Imperial Wizards' Association in Berlin. News of the disappearance of three wizards had already reached the higher-ups.

Though it was midday, the Atlantic sky was painted black. Thick, swirling clouds loomed oppressively low, heralding the arrival of the last torrential storm of summer—one that no force could hold back.

"If they come," the black-robed wizard said again, his voice rising as he turned to Mance, "Anker's death has nothing to do with us. Do you understand?"

Mance glanced at him, disinterested.

This was the nature of the group he had gathered—a mob drawn by promises of gain, only to scatter at the first sign of danger. Especially when faced with threats of life and death. Mance had no intention of reprimanding them. After all, like attracts like. The type of people drawn to him were merely reflections of his own nature. To condemn them would be to condemn himself. Still, he knew that to proceed with his plans, he would first need to resolve the current crisis.

"I knew this plan was unreliable," another wizard muttered. "I'm not risking my future on this. I'm out. What's happened already has nothing to do with me, and what comes next is your problem."

Mance raised an eyebrow. "Relax, my friend. You've declared Anker dead without even finding his body?"

"But we found his wand," the wizard retorted. "It's been a week. Lost at sea for that long without his wand—even a god would die of thirst."

"No food? He can catch fish. No fresh water? He can drink his own urine. There are countless ways to survive. Even Muggles have clung to shipwrecked planks for months and lived. Are you saying a wizard couldn't manage the same?"

"Save those words for the Krester family," the wizard snapped, throwing the letter onto the table before Mance. "As far as I know, they're already on their way."

With a sharp crack, he Disapparated, vanishing from the room.

The eerie sound of the wind outside caused the chandeliers to sway, their flickering light casting distorted shadows on the cabin walls. The remaining wizards exchanged uneasy glances, their apprehension palpable.

"Anyone else want to leave?" Mance gestured toward the doorway. "It's about to rain."

After a moment of silence, another wizard stepped forward, clenching his fists. "As tempting as your plan sounds, we've seen no progress. We've not only failed to capture LeMay but lost two of our own. So, I'm sorry."

With another loud crack, he vanished as well.

The exodus was like a domino effect. One by one, the black-robed wizards Disapparated, until only a single woman remained. She hesitated, glancing uneasily at Mance.

Though his team had crumbled, Mance displayed no sign of alarm. He rose slowly from his chair and said calmly, "If you lack confidence, you should leave. Why hesitate?"

"Why aren't you leaving?" the woman asked, her voice trembling. "Aren't you afraid? This is Athos Krester we're talking about. A single command from him, and you could be exiled to the farthest colony. You'd never set foot in the Empire's political center again."

"I still believe the situation is within control," Mance replied indifferently.

The woman shook her head. "You overestimate yourself, Mance. No matter how much Grindelwald admires your methods or grants you authority, it doesn't mean you can do as you please within the Association. With Dominik dead and Aldo and Anker missing, the smartest choice is to return to Berlin and confess."

The smartest choice...

Mance gazed at his reflection in the cabin's glass window. A fleeting smirk curled his lips, tinged with mockery. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared. "Thank you for your concern, Olly," he said gently. "But I've decided to stay aboard."

"Take care, then," she sighed before vanishing into thin air.

In an instant, the once-bustling cabin was silent, save for the rhythmic crashing of waves. Even the legendary Scharnhorst swayed precariously under the onslaught of the storm.

Stretching lazily, Mance wandered to the bar, pouring himself two glasses of liquor. He sighed, speaking to no one in particular: "If they're really as formidable as you say, do you think you can outrun them?"

As the words left his mouth, a sudden series of sharp cracks echoed through the room. Black-robed wizards reappeared one after another, but they were not alone. Standing behind each of them was a red-robed wizard.

At the forefront, a red-robed wizard held two of the black-robes by their collars—one in each hand. He was an imposing figure, with meticulously groomed hair streaked with silver and a chest adorned with medals. His gray eyes gleamed coldly, exuding authority. Despite his apparent age of fifty, he carried the vigor of a wizard in his prime.

Upon landing, the towering red-robed wizard released his grip. The two captured black-robed wizards collapsed to the ground, utterly defeated.

Without sparing them a glance, he stepped over their crumpled forms and strode to the center of the hall. His gaze fixed on the wet blackthorn wand lying on the table. In a deep, commanding voice, he declared, "Until I find my son, no one is allowed to leave."

The dream realm was vast and infinite, illuminated by flames as tall as forests and skyscrapers. The brightness was so intense that it could sear human eyes. Anker's bloodshot eyes watered as he leaned close, straining to see the three figures before him.

"What's happened to you?!" Aldo exclaimed, staring in shock at the hundred-meter-tall giant before him.

"Ha, are you afraid of me now?" The one-armed giant Anker grinned. "There's no shame in that because I am your nightmare!"

"What does that even mean?" Aldo asked, baffled.

"It means," Anker said, his voice laced with dark humor, "that I've become one with it. It can no longer harm me."

Aldo was dumbfounded. "You… you joined it because you couldn't beat it? That's so… honest."

"I don't mind if you join me too, Aldo. After I eliminate this guy, I'll let you merge with me, for old times' sake. As for you—" He turned his mountainous head toward Hoffa, his voice dripping with loathing. "Did I ever tell you how much I hate dark places? Did I ever tell you we should've worked together to escape this place?"

The gale-like force of his voice ruffled Hoffa's hair. Cold sweat drenched him as he leaned against a towering torch for support. The giant's enormous eye hovered less than half a meter away, reflecting Hoffa's pale, trembling face.

Hoffa wished Anker had perished. Awake, Anker was an incredibly formidable adversary. But what baffled him was how, after descending into the darkness, Anker had chosen self-destruction, merging completely with the nightmare.

"Yes, you did tell me," Hoffa replied.

The nightmare-fused Anker roared, "I told you, and yet you still forced me into the darkness alone! You cruel, heartless, cold-blooded beast! You selfish, arrogant, ruthless bastard!"

"Are you describing yourself?" Hoffa retorted through gritted teeth, trying to steady his nerves. "How are we any different?"

BOOM!

The giant smashed a colossal torch behind him, breaking it into pieces. Rocks and embers fell from the sky like meteors. Chloe, unable to endure any longer, screamed while shielding her eyes. "Make it stop! I can't take it anymore!"

"How dare you ask how we're different?!" the giant roared, his voice shaking the ground.

CRASH!

Another devastating blow swept through the space. The giant's arm lashed out, toppling all the braziers in the vast hall. Flaming coals scattered, igniting the ground in a fiery blaze. Chloe screamed again, her sanity fraying as Aldo dragged her to her feet.

"Miss LeMay, run!" Aldo shouted, pulling her toward the far side of the hall.

Meanwhile, Hoffa sprinted in the opposite direction. Without hesitation, Anker pursued him, his hatred for Hoffa clearly surpassing his animosity toward the others.

"My family hosted the Muggle Führer as a guest," Anker bellowed. "Grindelwald and my father were close friends, laughing and sharing plans together. Even your headmaster sent gifts when I was born!"

The giant's enormous body easily caught up to Hoffa. With a massive swing of his arm, he brought his fist down, the force shaking the earth like a ten-point earthquake. Hoffa was flung into the air by the tremors, managing only to grab onto a flying stone spike. But before he could recover, Anker grabbed him around the waist, trapping him in an iron grip.

"Tell me," Anker sneered, his voice thick with malice, "do you still think we're the same?"

Anker's crushing grip left Hoffa gasping for air. His face turned red as the pressure mounted, and he felt as if his intestines might burst—or had already done so.

"Loosen up a bit… or I'll…" Hoffa wheezed.

"You'll what, Bach?" Anker growled.

"I'll… I'll defecate in your hand," Hoffa said weakly.

For a moment, the giant loosened his grip, only to tighten it even more than before. With a mocking laugh, he said, "Even if you were a pile of crap, I'd eat you today."

"Why go to such extremes?" Hoffa asked with a bitter, hopeless smile. "We didn't even know each other before this."

"Everyone starts as strangers, but not everyone becomes friends," Anker snarled. "If you'd handed over LeMay, nothing would've happened. But no, you had to defy me!"

"Even if I gave her to you, could you have gotten her out?" Hoffa asked through gritted teeth.

"That's none of your business!" Anker roared. "I do what I want! I eat, kill, play, and take whatever I want. Who are you to question me? What do I need her for? That's for me to decide!"

"Anker, get a grip. Remember our agreement? You scout ahead, and I'll lead you out. I've already found a clue," Hoffa said, struggling to speak.

"Where to?" Anker demanded.

"Return to reality, Anker," Hoffa demanded.

"Hahahaha!" The giant laughed mockingly. "Reality? What is reality, Bach? Can the real world let me do as I please, just like here?"

He extended his hand, and in an instant, his previously gnawed-off right arm regenerated. Using his newly grown arm, he gestured toward the ground.

The scattered embers on the ground transformed into countless dazzling diamonds, their brilliance almost blinding.

He pointed again, and the swirling smoke in the air turned into a host of naked, enchanting women. They moved with seductive grace, singing melodies that were sweet and alluring.

With another wave of his hand, those beautiful women singing in harmony morphed into platters of grotesque, blood-soaked dishes garnished with green leaves.

"Here, I can do anything I want. I am God," the nightmare Anker declared triumphantly, his crimson eyes locking onto the dangling Hoffa in his grasp. "Now tell me, how would a god torment a devil? Should I rip off your balls and stuff them in your mouth, or should I burn you to ashes in the eternal flames?"

He loosened his grip and swung Hoffa upside down, hanging him from the tip of a towering torch.

The tongues of fire licked Hoffa's back, scorching his hair and filling the air with the acrid smell of burning.

"No, you're not God," Hoffa said, sweat pouring down his face.

"You always like to argue, don't you?" Anker sneered.

"Prove it to me," Hoffa replied, his voice strained but defiant.

"What do you want to see?" Nightmare Anker teased, dipping Hoffa into the flames and shaking him like a toy. "I don't mind playing with you a bit longer."

Before he could be burned bald, Hoffa shouted, "Can you create a corridor so narrow that even you can't enter? If you can, I'll admit your power. I'll bow to your greatness, even if it means my death!"

Nightmare Anker lifted Hoffa out of the fire and brought his glowing red eyes close to Hoffa's face. "Oh, I can do that, Bach. Watch me!"

He raised his hand, and in the boundless space, a dark, narrow corridor materialized. It was pitch-black, just tall enough for one person, and led into the unknown.

"See that? Now you can die in peace, fully convinced of my divinity," Anker gloated.

Hoffa shook his head. "The nightmare has corroded your logic, Anker. If you can't enter it yourself, how can you claim to be an all-powerful god?"

Nightmare Anker froze, momentarily stunned as though turned to stone.

Taking advantage of the classic paradox that had thrown Anker into confusion, Hoffa yanked out the sharp stone spike he had picked up earlier and drove it forcefully into the giant's fingernail.

The sharp pain made the giant roar in agony, and his grip slackened.

Hoffa slipped through the giant's fingers, crashing onto the ground with a heavy thud. Winded but wasting no time, he scrambled to his feet and rushed to where Chloe and Aldo were hiding in a corner. Grabbing Chloe by the arm, he bolted into the corridor Anker had just created.

Aldo, glancing nervously over his shoulder at the enraged nightmare Anker, muttered under his breath, "Impressive move, Bach."

The three of them vanished into the narrow corridor moments before nightmare Anker regained a sliver of clarity.

"You dare trick me, you scum!" he bellowed, his fury igniting the entire space in a blazing inferno. Though his body began to shrink, his terrifying presence only grew more intense. Using both hands and feet, he charged into the narrow corridor after the trio, his form twisting and contorting to fit.

"Run! Faster!" Hoffa shouted urgently as they raced through the dark corridor. He glanced back occasionally, his heart pounding.

Anker was hot on their heels, crawling with frightening speed, sometimes along the walls, sometimes across the ceiling, like a gecko chasing its prey. Behind him, a wave of searing flames surged, consuming everything in its path.

(End of Chapter)

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