Harry Potter: I am the Legend

"Hey! Aldo, was that your signal?"

In the fiery corridor, Chloe and Aldo were preparing to leave the treacherous monastery when someone called out from behind them.

"Was that your signal?"

Caught off guard, Chloe spun around. At the end of the corridor, several wizards holding wands stood atop a corpse.

Without hesitation, Aldo pressed a firm hand on Chloe's shoulder, twisting her arm behind her back. He grinned slyly and said, "Of course, look who I've captured!"

As he spoke, Aldo subtly shifted his position, ensuring the corpse of the Nightmare Aldo remained hidden.

The black-robed figures moved closer, their faces breaking into wide smiles. "Well, well, you're the one who captured the most important person. Luck is definitely on your side!"

"Luck? This is all skill," Aldo replied, his tone growing boisterous.

"Alright, don't get too cocky," one of the wizards said. "Come on, Mance is waiting for you!"

As the black-robed figures turned to lead the way, Aldo leaned close to Chloe's ear and whispered in an almost inaudible tone, "Don't act rashly. Mance won't kill you. Once this ordeal is over, I'll sneak you out."

Chloe didn't respond. She had already abandoned hope. Whatever was destined to happen would happen. In this nightmare realm, everything only became worse, and she was powerless to stop it.

Ahead, the wizards held their wands high. The sound of explosions echoed incessantly as they hurried through the courtyard. In the distance, air-raid sirens blared louder and louder.

The hall was dimly lit by a few scattered torches, with the firelight from the hearth flickering weakly. Most of the space was shrouded in darkness. Benches were pushed against the walls, leaving no room to sit.

Nightmare Mance sat atop the priest's lectern, which was normally used for sermons. He had shed his cloak, revealing an immaculate German military uniform. A fine pocket watch glinted in his hand as he checked the time. Smiling, he said, "Right on time, Aldo. I knew you were the best. You captured Lemei!"

"These fools tried to protect her," Aldo said with a grating, rough laugh. "But I killed them all. Ridiculous."

"You can't blame them," Mance said, still smiling. "A sorceress who can manipulate time and space is a rarity, perhaps one in centuries. Naturally, they wanted to protect her."

Mance gestured grandly. "Bring her closer. Let me take a good look."

Obediently, Aldo pushed Chloe forward. As they passed through the shadows cast by the torches, he whispered from behind her, "Don't be afraid. He won't hurt you."

Chloe felt dizzy, her mind spinning. She watched as people were dragged into the monastery hall by dark wizards, treated as casually as sacks of potatoes. The blazing red light from the wands twisted around their bodies, making them convulse, foam at the mouth, and struggle silently.

Sister Sanisa was hauled out of her office, her dress torn in half. Clutching the fabric with tight fists, she trudged forward, every step a struggle.

Father Reed, his face covered in blood, reached out a hand to help her, but a dark wizard knocked him to the ground without mercy.

Chloe was pushed beneath a statue. In her daze, she thought she saw the crucified Jesus on the cross wearing a mocking smile.

Nightmare Mance chuckled and said, "Ah, Miss Lemei. I've admired you for a long time. I've been eager to have a heartfelt conversation with you."

"Let them go," Chloe said numbly, meeting the eyes of the priest and the nun. Even though she knew everything was an illusion, she couldn't bear to see what might happen next.

Mance nodded. "Of course. But first, let's see how cooperative you are."

He rubbed his hands together, smiling slyly, and leaned in close to Chloe's ear. "Tell me, Miss Lemei," he whispered fervently. "Who will win this war?"

Chloe froze, instinctively looking up. Her gaze met the priest's tortured eyes. Though his mouth was sealed by a spell, he still shook his head desperately.

"Don't look at him. Look at me!" Mance snapped.

He grabbed Chloe's face with an iron grip, his blue eyes burning with insatiable curiosity. His strength was so overwhelming that his gloved fingers dug into her cheeks.

"Tell me, O master of time! Tell me, miraculous sorceress—who will win this war? When will Hitler die? Will Grindelwald perish in the end? Tell me! Answer me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Answer me!"

Like a child shaking a piggy bank, Nightmare Mance violently rattled Chloe's head.

"I really don't know!" Chloe cried, terror-stricken.

The fervor on Mance's face slowly cooled. His bloodshot eyes faded back to their icy blue.

"You refuse to speak."

He turned to Aldo, who forced a strained smile.

Without hesitation, Mance drew a pistol and strode to Sister Sanisa. Without a word, he aimed at her head and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed, and the nun collapsed as the crowd screamed.

Aldo held Chloe tightly, preventing her from reacting.

"Now, will you speak?" Mance demanded.

"I don't know!" Chloe sobbed. "I've never seen anything like that!"

"Lie! They wouldn't have kept you captive for so long without unlocking your abilities!"

"Enough!"

A voice shouted from afar. The bloodied Father Reed staggered to his feet, defiant.

"Not everyone believes power is paramount. We lived with her—just lived. We never sought to manipulate time!"

"Fools," Mance said coldly. "Then you'll pay the price for such naive ideals."

Before Chloe could utter a word of protest, the gun fired again. Blood arced gracefully through the air, splattering her face and blinding her vision.

"Kill them all?" someone asked.

"Every last one," Mance ordered. "Mercy to the enemy is cruelty to oneself."

Green flashes of light filled the hall as spell after spell was cast.

When Chloe's vision cleared, everyone in the monastery lay lifeless in pools of blood. It was the same tragedy that had occurred after she met Delphina, now vividly replayed in her nightmare.

"Shall I take her to the car?" Aldo asked deferentially.

Nightmare Mance nodded. "Bring her to the camp. We return to Berlin tomorrow."

"As you wish," Aldo muttered, dragging the lifeless Chloe along the desolate corridors of the monastery.

When they reached the deserted banks of the Seine River, Chloe broke into quiet sobs. Aldo patted her back gently and murmured, "It's all over now. I'll find a boat and get you out of here."

"It's all my fault," she choked through her tears, wiping her face.

"How could you think that?" Aldo replied, his voice steady. "I've killed hundreds of people and never thought about right or wrong. It's just work—nothing more."

"If it weren't for me, they wouldn't have died," Chloe whispered.

"Even without you, someone like Mance, with his insatiable ambition, wouldn't have stopped. Blaming yourself is pointless. What's done is done, and crying over it won't change anything."

"What would you do?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"I'd kill Mance if I were you," Aldo said plainly.

"I can't kill anyone," Chloe shook her head resolutely. "God forbids it."

"I don't believe in God," Aldo said with a faint cough, "but I know this—if God exists, He's not just kind. Kindness isn't a sword. It can't slay devils."

A coughing fit suddenly overtook him, harsher and longer than before. Once it subsided, his voice was hoarse. "Sometimes, I wonder why God created this world. Was it so people could live peacefully?"

He didn't wait for her to answer. "I don't think so. If He wanted peace, why make people selfish and ambitious? Why not make them all like dodos? Then I realized—maybe God's intent wasn't kindness or salvation. Maybe what He really wants is endless conflict."

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The sound of applause shattered the fragile quiet. Aldo's musings were cut short by the slow, mocking clap of a returning nightmare.

"I've worked with you for years, Aldo," Mance said, stepping into view with his gun in hand. "I never realized you had such deep thoughts. But I'm still surprised to see you aligning yourself with a religious fanatic."

Black-robed wizards regrouped behind Mance, forming a tight circle around the riverbank.

"How did you know?!" Aldo demanded, standing quickly.

"Oh, I tipped him off."

A new figure emerged from the shadows—a man with a sly, serpentine smile, lazily biting into a blood-red apple. It was Ankell, now returned to his normal human size but with nightmare flames still dancing in his eyes.

"Ankell…" Aldo whispered, his voice trembling.

"You might fool Mance, but you can't fool me," Ankell said, his tone dripping with malice. "I see right through you, Aldo. You love her, don't you?"

Turning to Chloe with a venomous grin, Ankell continued, "How tragic. Is this level of devotion enough for you, my dear?"

His steps were deliberate as he and the black wizards closed in, his grin revealing sharp, glistening teeth. The apple in his hand morphed into a claw, razor-sharp and menacing.

Aldo sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Miss Lemei," he said softly. "This is as far as I can take you."

With that, he shoved Chloe into the churning waters of the Seine.

Dark smoke choked the sky, spiraling from countless fires along the horizon. Flames lit the riverbanks, casting an orange glow on rain-heavy clouds. Even in this nightmare, the air was thick with ash.

Hoffa found himself back in the nightmare, staring at the devastation with speechless shock. The scene had transformed drastically since he'd left.

What had happened?

A gust of wind blew past, scattering fragments of charred newspapers. Hoffa bent down to pick one up from the ground.

The headlines spoke of Nazi raids on monasteries and churches, with reports of mass killings targeting Jewish priests and nuns. He grabbed another scrap from the air—it told the same grim story.

In Paris, he had vaguely heard rumors of a massacre at a monastery, attributed to black wizards, but the story had quickly disappeared. Any reports tarnishing the Vichy government were swiftly suppressed. At the time, he hadn't given it much thought. After all, chaos and death were daily occurrences in this era.

But now, the truth hit him like a blow. It was all connected to Chloe. Considering her hostility toward Aldo and the others, Hoffa's heart sank.

For anyone, such a tragedy would leave an indelible scar, let alone a girl barely twenty years old.

If the black wizards had slaughtered everyone at Teral Monastery while pursuing her—and she was the sole survivor—there was no way she could accept help from someone like Aldo.

He dropped the scraps of newspaper and rushed toward the monastery, his footsteps quick and anxious.

The monastery was eerily silent, the only sound the crackling of flames.

The gates were broken, the interior littered with corpses. Hoffa checked each one as he moved forward. Most had been killed by the Killing Curse; a few had gunshot wounds. His heart pounded like a war drum, dreading the sight of lifeless, familiar faces.

The only solace he found was that he didn't see the nun's body among the dead. Yet there were no signs of any survivors either.

Finally, following a trail of thick blood to the riverbank, he heard a faint voice calling his name.

"Mr. Bach…?"

Guided by the weak voice, he found a figure slumped against a wall—a mangled, barely recognizable mass of bloodied flesh.

Hoffa recoiled at the sight but, noticing a patch of golden hair amid the gore, recognized the man.

"Aldo?"

Hoffa tentatively called out.

"It's me."

Hoffa crouched down slowly, hesitating to touch him. His mangled form made any gesture feel inadequate.

"What happened to you?"

"I'm grateful," the grotesque figure murmured weakly.

"What?" Hoffa asked, confused.

"You didn't ask about Chloe first," Aldo wheezed a chuckle that sounded like air escaping a broken bellows.

"I want to know what happened, Aldo."

"Ankell was here. He… ate me. But I slit his stomach open and crawled out," Aldo recounted in a disturbingly calm tone, as if describing a mundane event. "I pushed Miss Lemei into the Seine. If you want to find her, follow the river. You might still be in time."

His trembling, skeletal fingers pointed toward the river. Hoffa exhaled deeply and muttered, "Well, guess you can't mock my hair anymore."

Aldo let out a raspy laugh, interrupted by a fit of coughing. "You've got a cruel sense of humor, Mr. Bach."

Hoffa removed his coat, attempting to wrap it around Aldo's ravaged body.

"Hold on, Aldo."

"No need, Hoffa Bach." For the first time, Aldo addressed him by his full name. "I'm done for. I know it. Go find Miss Lemei."

"This is just a dream. Injuries don't matter here," Hoffa insisted. "You'll be fine when we get back to reality."

Aldo shook his head faintly. "It's no use. Too much time has passed. In the real world, I've probably already drowned. This is my final resting place."

Seawater began pouring from every crevice of his broken body. His bloodied hand suddenly gripped Hoffa's arm with surprising strength.

"Mr. Bach, look at me."

Hoffa obeyed and met Aldo's gaze. His eyes, despite the ruined body, were startlingly clear and bright—like pristine Hawaiian waters beyond a white sandy shore.

"I've heard bits about your story," Aldo said, his voice soft but unwavering. "Leaving England as a boy, leaving the safety of Hogwarts, wandering the world before you were even sixteen. Honestly, I admire you. Life has always been harsh to us, but I never had the courage to make better choices."

"You could come with me to England. We agreed on that," Hoffa urged, trying to shake free and continue bandaging Aldo's wounds. But the mangled hands held him fast.

"No time. Listen to me," Aldo said quickly. Water mixed with fragments of his insides poured from his mouth.

"I'm listening," Hoffa replied, his voice steady despite the horror before him.

"Do not harm Miss Lemei. No matter what. I beg you. No matter your reasons, don't hurt her. If you do, I swear, I will haunt your nightmares, and I'll never leave you!"

Aldo's voice was filled with a fierce determination as he used every ounce of strength to deliver the warning.

Looking into his piercing eyes, Hoffa nodded solemnly. "I promise."

Aldo's grip loosened, and he slumped against the wall, a faint smile playing on his lips. "This is the first time I've chosen a different path. It feels… amazing. Oh, one last thing. Be careful of Mance. He's far more dangerous than you think. If… if you escape this dream and can't beat him, try black mistletoe. It works wonders."

"We'll talk about it once we're out, Aldo," Hoffa said, lowering his head to focus on tending to him.

But Aldo didn't respond. His body grew still, and his eyes lost their light.

Realizing the man's spirit and soul had departed, Hoffa looked up, a wave of emptiness washing over him.

In the past year, he had witnessed countless deaths amidst the chaos of war. But this one left him strangely shaken.

Aldo had been like a mirror, reflecting something Hoffa had once possessed but had gradually lost over time—things that had faded into oblivion under the relentless march of years.

(End of Chapter)

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