Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

Accompanied by Hoffa's getting up.

Finally, the screen playing in the cinema paused.

Then, a dark figure stood up from the chair in the front row of the cinema. When did he sit there alone, Hoffa asked himself, he didn't know at all, that guy didn't make a sound at all.

But when the man turned around, Hoffa was shocked and took a step back.

Through the lights of the cinema screen, he could see the appearance of the man, his half-bald head, crumpled skin, and golden eyes. He was more than sixty years old. He was the old Huo who had shot his head before. Fa, at this moment he was standing quietly in front of him.

When Miller saw that guy, he was more surprised than seeing Barty Jr. kill his father more than a dozen times. When his thigh moved, Coke splashed all over the floor.

"It's you!" Hoffa said in horror: "Are you not dead?"

The old man shook his head, "You have admitted the wrong person."

"But you..." Hoffa pointed at him dumbfounded, puzzled.

"what,"

The old man smiled slightly and shook his head: "Don't get me wrong, this is the trick of the **** of death playing with life. I am not the person you imagined, I am just a replica of the **** of death, just like the two guys before, both are fakes. Nothing, only you are the real Hoffa Bach."

Miller, who was sitting next to Hoffa, looked relieved.

Hoffa didn't dare to relax. He tensed his nerves and looked at the old man in front of him, and said vigilantly: "You look much more sober than those two."

"Yes, gods sometimes can't control their creations, especially to my level."

The old man looked at his palm, and said indifferently: "He gave me too much power, which led to a certain degree of freedom."

As he said, the dark cinema was opened like a cardboard box, the bright sun fell from the dome, the street rose from the ground, the colorful parasols opened, the bright sandy beach appeared at Hoffa’s feet, and a breeze blew over him. They found themselves and Miller wearing tropical Hawaiian shirts standing on the beach full of coconut trees and bikini beauties.

By the beach, the old man took two cups of smoothies and handed them to Hoffa and Little Batty. There were lemons and a small umbrella on the smoothies.

Hoffa blankly accepted the old man's gift, completely unaware of what medicine he sold in the gourd.

The old man wearing sunglasses, sitting lazily near the mobile ice cream stand, watching the waves in the distance, asked casually: "You have just watched the movie for so long, so tell me, Hoffa, why is it young? Batty will definitely kill his father."

Hoffa didn't know why the old man asked him this question, but he thought for a long time and said:

"It's very complicated. Old Batty seems to be a workaholic, and he looks down on his son very much. And Young Batty can't get his father to face him squarely by proper means. So... tragedies will happen again and again."

"Is it just that simple?"

"Is there any other reason?"

Hoffa was puzzled.

"Fate." Miller said to the side.

Hoffa: "What?"

"Children will always subconsciously imitate the character of the person closest to them, whether they like it or not."

Miller took a sip of smoothie, "Their father and son are so alike, they are exactly the same. The only difference is that Barty Little was out of luck and went with Voldemort. If Voldemort hadn't fallen, he would have become the same person as his father. "

"That's not right." Hoffa frowned. "I think Barty Jr. has almost all hobbies that are the opposite of his father's."

"I've heard that only doctors who know the extreme about men's bodies are qualified to perform **** reassignment operations on men.

He must have understood his father to understand the extremes before he could make the completely opposite choice, but as everyone knows, the opposite of extremes is still extremes. The cause of their tragedy may be due to this extreme character. "

With that, Miller sighed, "Poor fellow."

"Is he right?" Hoffa asked the old man puzzled.

The old man just shook his head: "I don't know, I just asked curiously. You all make sense, but it's a pity that something is missing."

Hoffa: "Then can I ask a question curiously?"

"Just ask."

"What kind of game is this? Did you win, or did I win?"

Hoffa asked the question he most urgently wanted to know. This was his last opponent. Holding Avada's statement, as long as he won, he could take Aglaia and leave Helheim.

But the old man shook his head with a wry smile: "If you believe that this is the **** of death playing a game with you, you can't win, just like a gambler can never win the dealer."

Hoffa shuddered, cold from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet.

The old man closed his eyes and intoxicated after taking a sip of the juice, he muttered quietly, "Can you do me a favor? Hoffa Bach."

"What...what?"

"Come here." The old man beckoned to him.

Hoffa tilted his head.

Just listen to the old man sticking his head to his ear and whispering,

"I can help you leave Helheim, but under the power of the **** of death, the time I can only buy for you is only three minutes. In these three minutes, all the unfavorable factors for you have been transformed into dreams by me, but Within three minutes, you must be at the exit of Helheim’s Path of Thorns and get out of here."

Hoffa shook his head and wanted to move his head away.

The nightmare **** grabbed his arm and said in an undetectable voice: "Help, don't go the old way of that man."

After that, the old man with gray hair and golden eyes collapsed in an instant, turning into pieces of broken glass, and the surrounding tropical beach scenes were all shattered.

......

......

When he opened his eyes again, Hoffa returned to the mysterious state of death, standing in Aglaia's crypt.

The time does not seem to be long, it may be a few minutes, or it may be less than a few seconds.

Aglaia was still picking and choosing in front of the stone cabinet, which was still expressionless.

Little Batty got up from Hoffa with a dazed expression, rubbing his eyes, looking at him in a dazed manner: "What happened, Bach first, I... I seem to have fallen asleep."

three minutes!

Hoffa thought of what the old man in his dream said to him, his heart pounding and adrenaline secreting frantically. He immediately rushed to Aglaia, speaking extremely fast:

"Is the flying big-eared rabbit still there? Let me use it. I will take you to the Way of Thorns."

When he said this, he trembled with excitement.

But Aglaia looked at him, and for the first time some other emotion was revealed in his unmarked blue eyes. It was the sympathy and sadness of a rainy beast.

"Go!"

Hoffa tried to grab her hand, but passed through her body.

"Where do you want to take me?" She asked faintly, "Is it resurrecting me again? Don't think about it. Without a container to carry my soul, I can't live without the underworld."

"Damn it! Don't you know how to refine your body?"

Hoffa pointed to the big cauldron, "How many people have you made a body for, why not make one for yourself?"

Time passed by one minute and one second, and three minutes passed quickly for ten seconds, but Aglaia said unhurriedly:

"My refined body can only last for one day. One day will decay. I will come back here when time is up. It's meaningless, Hoffa. Go wherever you want. Leave me alone. I've already died."

"That's not your destiny!" Hoffa said excitedly: "That's Grindelwald's conspiracy!!"

"Colleagues are also your past, accept it."

Hoffa: "No."

"Do not?"

Aglaia’s tone was rare and a touch of excitement: "Remember Sisyphus who pushed the stone? Do you remember Prometheus who was pecked at the heart by a vulture? Do you remember Peverier who kept jumping? !?

These are all heroic spirits among human beings. Just like you, they want to fight against the gods of death. Think about their fate, don't you understand? "

Time passed quickly in the conversation, and Hoffa was so anxious that at this moment, this girl was unwilling to leave at all. He stomped anxiously.

"I'm sorry, I can give up everything else, but I can't.

They lost the game, I did not lose, and none of the three opponents destroyed me. I will not be hung on the road of thorns. "

"Didn't lose?"

Aglaia's expression of indifference finally loosened. She knelt down without warning, and said in a desperate vibrato: "Every time you think you didn't lose, but did you win again? Hoffa, you still don't. Understand? You, like them, are repeating the infinite cycle of fate!"

"What?" Hoffa opened his mouth in astonishment.

"The **** of death deprived me of the ability to lose memory, and prevented me from walking through the underworld Helheim and entering the cycle of reincarnation. The purpose is to be here, watching you die again and again.

This is the punishment that I once saved you, and the punishment that you saved Hogwarts. We all did things that shouldn't have happened. We have all done things that should not be done.

Think about it carefully, don't you have the illusion that all this has happened before? Do you have no life and everything is performed according to the script? "

Hoffa's face became paler.

Aglaia closed her eyes in despair, and leaned on the wall: "Your cycle is more terrible than Sisyphus, more terrible than Prometheus, and terrible than Peverier.

In your eyes, everything is fresh for you, everything is the first time, but in my eyes, you have entered Helheim more than 6,000 times, told me more than 5,000 cold jokes, under one knee Kneeling more than 500 times, participated in more than 6,000 death games, killed Davis more than 400 times, was helped more than 3,000 times by the so-called self, and left here more than 6,000 times. "

Hoffa stood in place as if struck by lightning. At this moment, the sense of sight that has continued to this day is extremely strong, as if countless fragments of Aglaia's image combined in his mind, forming an almost physical illusion. Some of them are laughing, some are crying, some are full of expectations, some are desperate, some are indifferent...

Listening to Aglaia's words, Miller, who was lodged in Hoffa's right arm, opened his mouth, and the old man with his tongue hanging from it was like a hanged ghost. Little Batty on the side was completely dumbfounded: "Six thousand times...6,000 times what..."

Aglaia looked at Hoffa and wept tremblingly: "Do you know how happy I was when I saw you for the first time? I can't forget it for 300,000 years. I hope to see you and accompany you. I defeated one enemy after another and sent you out of the underworld with expectation. But I was waiting for you one after another."

"Time and time again, time and time again, time and time again, there is no time in the underworld. I use the human body to time it. It takes a day for a body to be born to corruption. Do you know how many bodies I refine here? Do you know ?"

Hoffa retreated involuntarily until he fell to the ground. At this moment, countless fragments of Aglaia's crying image were grouped together one after another, tearing his mind.

"I'm tired, I'm tired, I've had enough, but no matter what I say, it's good or bad, it's okay to scold you, ignoring you, quarreling, or begging, you will always be able to Participating in the game of Reaper, you must want to take me out of here! I appreciate your kindness, but you can't do it.

Do you think you can escape fate by leaving Helheim? You can't change anything, and no one can be resurrected. The self you see in the arena is the future you. "

The more Aglaia spoke, the more excited she became. Finally, she pointed to the sky, desperate and weak, sobbing: "Reaper puts the future in front of you, but you can't change it anyway. This is the most terrifying thing, Hoffa, you Behind him is an infinite loop of fate. It is more terrifying than death, a meaningless loop, a loop that cannot change anything."

The strong sense of sight almost shattered Hoffa's vision, and the melancholic but vain pain made him bend down uncomfortably. He clung to his palm, unable to speak.

Six thousand times...

Fifty years at a time...

Even if the time flow in the underworld is faster, that is...how many tens of thousands of years?

If no matter how hard he tries, his destiny has already been arranged, then what is the point of what he is doing now?

Aglaia slowly floated to Hoffa's side, stroked his face with a transparent hand vainly, and pleaded in a low voice: "Man can't beat God, give up, Hoffa, I beg you, don’t Go, stay here. I really can't stand it anymore. I can't hold on anymore. It's too uncomfortable. Even if it's for my sake, please, don't go out, just die like this."

Time passed by, and after a while, Hoffa's broken consciousness slowly merged together. He asked hoarsely, "Stay in...underworld, what can we...what can we do?"

"Stay in the underworld and don't do anything. When I can make a perfect body, we will live in Helheim just like in the real world, okay?"

Aglaia said softly in despair.

Looking at her like this, Hoffa almost collapsed in discomfort. He used all his strength to calm himself down, "Before... the previous six thousand times, how many times did you...you talk to me."

Aglaia covered her face in despair: "I have spoken to you more than 500 times in this conversation, but not once, you are willing to listen to me, not once..."

The little Batty on the side was already silly, and the girl's narration was shocking, Miller no longer struggled, they stared at Hoffa stupidly, waiting for his decision.

"No, I won't stay here..."

Hoffa clutched his chest: there is no breath, no sunshine, no hope, nothing, everything is nothingness. I want to save you from here, I must..."

"You have said it thousands of times, Hoffa! You can't remember, you don't know! You can't save me, you can't save anyone, you can't even save yourself!!"

Aglaia grabbed her hair and backed away desperately, "I can't watch you die, and I can't care about you. It's useless if I say it, and it's useless if I don't say it. Everything happens by chance, but the result As fate is inevitable. I am too difficult, I am too difficult, I am too difficult!"

"Calm down!" Hoffa hugged her quickly, but his arm passed through her again.

"Go, go, I know your character."

Aglaia looked at his face and turned his head in despair, "I know you, you won't bow to anything."

She clapped her hands, the tall stone puppet pulled out a box, opened it in front of him, and poured a flying long-eared rabbit in front of him:

"Let's go, hahaha, let's go, big deal, do it again, do it again..."

She smiled weakly, walked around the cauldron in the room, and disappeared behind the dense cabinets: "Let's go... let's go... what should be said, I have already said it..."

"Aglaia!"

Hoffa watched her back disappear into the room sadly, and called out her name. There were ten thousand thoughts in his heart that wanted to catch up, but he thought that his only three minutes were running out. pace.

A certain strong desire erupted from the bottom of Hoffa's heart, that was the desire to resurrect her, that was his promise to Fatir, and the inertia of more than 6,000 cycles.

He raised his head, took a deep breath, then spit it out again, abruptly suppressing the desperate sense of sight.

"Wait for me."

He no longer looked at the place where Aglaia had disappeared, and suddenly turned his head and walked over to Batty.

Little Batty can't stand up anymore. He doesn't know what happened. He just felt some fragments of information. He was overwhelmed by the total despair. He pointed at himself incoherently. , "I...I...you...you...she...what...what is six thousand times? Six thousand times...and me?"

"To shut up."

Hoffa's expression was as cold as a sculpture.

He couldn't help but pulled up Little Batty, rode on the rabbit, and said to the rabbit, "The way to the thorns."

The long-eared rabbit opened its ears and flew out from the gap torn by the Son of Night God.

Outside, all the existence of the dead mysterious realm was briefly controlled by the nightmare god.

Hoffa rides a long-eared rabbit, flies over the smiling and sleeping Arvada sitting on the balloon, flies over countless sleepwalking ghosts in the sky, flies over the way of thorns, flies over Sisyphus who pushes the stone, flies over the quilt Prometheus, who was pecking at the heart, flew past the jumping Peverrier, and passed through the open barrier.

Along the way, he didn't say a word.