London.

Leaky Cauldron Bar.

There were a few people sitting in the shabby blackened storefront, one of whom was a middle-aged man with bandages wrapped around his shoulders and gray hair disheveled. The other drinkers flipped through the newspapers and talked to each other.

"This year's Triwizard Tournament is really huge. ”

"Who said no, he actually invited people other than the magic school to watch the game, and came up with such a high reward. ”

The tentative number of viewers has risen to 100,000, including Leprechauns, Centaurs, and Eva, which is twice as many as the Quidditch World Cup. ”

"Wow, what a big deal, can Hogwarts sit so many?"

"I heard that the principals of the three major magic schools have set up super stands in the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest at the same time, which can accommodate more than 300,000 people. ”

"Whether you go or not, I heard that there will be a lottery. ”

"Go, it's stupid not to go, everyone who received the news went. ”

......

The conversation of several middle-aged men next to him drilled into Hoffa's brain like an electric drill, making him sober. He couldn't help but ask the boss for a glass of wine, and drank it slowly.

Three full days had passed since Barty Jr.'s death, and within three days, Hoffa had lost his powerful ability to fight and recover at night under the effect of septic potions, and he had to find a hidden place to treat his wounds.

Miller vanishes, Barty Jr. dies, Dumbledore loses his memory, and Nicol Lemay mutinies. At the moment, he has no other helpers by his side, but his opponent has become stronger and stronger with time.

Voldemort, Grindelwald, and the fate that is everywhere and everywhere.

Although there is no memory of the past, the sense of immediacy still appears in front of his eyes from time to time, reminding him that this is not the first time this has happened.

Squeak.

The stone wall leading to Diagon Alley separates on both sides.

More than a dozen people came out of Diagon Alley in an orderly manner, carrying some wizard daily necessities, one after the other, neatly like ants.

In just three days, the vast majority of people that Hoffa saw had become what he had seen in the nightmare world, cold, numb, ruthless, silent, like walking diamonds.

An inexplicable dream spread like a plague to every inch of the world, turning most of the people he saw into walking corpses.

As for why they became like this, and what they were dreaming about, Hoffa probably knew, but he didn't want to think about it, let alone admit it.

He had never felt so lonely and helpless as he had at this moment.

At this moment, the hunchbacked bar owner placed a glass of liquor in front of Hoffa, who had never drunk alcohol, and drank it all with a grunt, his throat burning as if it were on fire.

Under the influence of alcohol, he temporarily forgot the pressure of the mountains around him.

"One more drink. ”

He said.

So the barkeeper gave him another glass, and he hesitated for a moment, then raised his glass and drank it down. The spicy power rushed into his body, blurring the world in front of him a little, and it was the first time he discovered the joy of drinking.

No, maybe not for the first time.....

Because along with the fun comes a strong sense of immediacy.

It wasn't the first time he'd sat in a bar and drank, and if he guessed correctly, he'd probably been sitting in a leaky cauldron like this for thousands of times, enough to go around the globe and fill the entire Lake Belga.

Goo-goo-goo.

The glass is full and full, and it is full and full.

His middle-aged appearance at the moment is very much like a man who has been crushed by life, and the bar owner is probably used to seeing this kind of person, and he is familiar with pouring him wine.

After the tenth cup.

The bar owner automatically raised the jug, intending to refill it for him.

Hoffa covered the rim of the cup.

"Don't want it?"

The hunchbacked owner of the Leaky Cauldron asked.

"Don't. ”

Hoffa shook his head.

The bald boss who wiped the glass at the Broken Cauldron Bar stopped his movements and said with a faint smile: "It is worthy of the person I fancy, and I can still restrain myself at this time." ”

Hoffa looked up at the hunched and bald head of the Leaky Cauldron Bar owner. He was much older than he had been fifty years ago. He remembered the first time he had come to the Leaky Cauldron alone, and the old man was even younger than himself.

"Got it figured?" asked the bar owner, something inexplicable.

"What do you want?" asked Hoffa.

"Think about accepting my invitation. The bar owner shrugged and laughed.

Hoffa looked at him, his drunken eyes clearing.

The eyes of the hunchbacked man in front of him were so deep that they could almost suck the soul in, and those eyes were definitely not something that a bar owner could have.

"You're... Little monster?"

He was slightly surprised.

"That's right. The barkeeper said calmly, "Sure enough, you weren't blinded by a pair of skins." ”

"Ho!"

Hoffa couldn't help but push the cup aside, he was completely different from the last time he saw the god of nightmares, last time she was not as bereaved as a mortal, but this time she was as ugly as a beggar.

"These—" Hoffa gestured to the wandering crowd of walking corpses beside him. "You did it?"

"It's not me, it's the result of the world's interference. ”

The God of Nightmares took Hoffa's empty glass and wiped it, "I told you that this plane was based on you stopping Sylby Spencer.

And you haven't gone back in time for a long time, and if no one stops the half-human king of the past, the whole normal time and space will become a paradox.

The result of Sylby Spencer's victory will gradually eat away from your victory.

The world of the past will overwrite the normal world as you see it, which is everything you see. ”

"No one can escape?"

Hoffa couldn't help but think of Dumbledore, the first time he saw him, he was clearing his memories, and the next time he saw him, he no longer recognized himself.

"No matter how powerful a wizard is, he can't escape his fate, recognize the reality, Hofabach. The god of nightmares asked in a vicissitudes of life, "Have you thought about it?"

"What if I thought about it?" asked Hoffa.

"You're going to be my spokesperson, and I'm going to give you the power to conquer everything, Riddle, Grindelwald, Spencer. Anyone who dares to stop you will be dragged into an eternal nightmare by you. ”

"Make me the god of nightmares?"

"It's understandable, but it won't be long. ”

"At what cost?"

Hoffa asked bitterly.

"You get the idea. ”

The Nightmare God said calmly.

"Go back fifty years and defeat Sylbie. ”

"Of course. ”

Bang!

Hoffa slapped the table in anger.

"Why does it have to be me?"

The Nightmare God calmly wiped his glass, and looked at Hoffa with deep eyes without saying a word, until he no longer wanted to look at him.

Hoffa stood up and walked out the door without paying the money.

The sun outside the door was cold and harsh, and the cold winter wind swept through his neck like a knife.

Memories of the long ago came flooding back to him, and he suddenly wanted to go. So he apparitioned and vanished in place.

......

......

When he reappeared, he was found in a cemetery near Grasmere and Lake Ryddle.

Here, the priest is digging a pit, digging up piles of brown dirt. There was also a group of black-pressed men in long gowns with serious faces, unusually tall hats, gleaming black boots, and carrying a black wooden box. At this time, men in priest's robes spoke loudly beside them, and the women were crying.

The sound of the cry calmed Hoffa, and it seemed that only at this time did he feel the end of all things, and he looked at the thorn forest at his feet and began the long trek.

After trampling on many branches and thorns, he came to a hillside. It was covered with frost, thorns and tall shrubs were dead on the hillsides, and withered rose branches were shattering at the touch of winter.

He rubbed his hands together, exhaled a white breath, and began to search according to his memory, and it wasn't long before he found a collapsed rusted metal fence on the hillside, and two tombstones were faintly visible within the fence.

The tombstone was covered with yellowish moss, and he cleared the area of branches and moss, revealing the vague names of Fatil and Aglaia below.

For the first time in 50 years, he was able to face the past so honestly.

In a sense, his life was already complete, and the old man had left himself with a huge fortune enough to do whatever he wanted in the world, but ironically, he could never really get what he really wanted.

He has been alone since he was born in this world until now.

If he could, he really wanted to sit on the beach with the person he loved, watch the sunset set over the sea, revealing the stars in the sky, and listen to the sound of the waves, and no longer have superfluous words. But I knew in my heart that I was never alone again.

But no.

Definitely not.

It just doesn't work.

No, I don't.

Absolutely not.

The god above him was as crazy as a child, and would rather see him die six thousand times, or even sixty thousand, sixty million times, six trillion times, than let him get what he wanted.

He touched the tombstone, then sat down, leaned on the tombstone of these two people and began to think, thinking about the past, thinking about the future, thinking about the meaning of his life, thinking about why life is so difficult.

The more he thinks about it, the more he feels small, and the more he thinks about it, the more he feels that what he is doing is meaningless.

But the more this is the case, the more unwilling he becomes, and the more he wants to do something.

"Little monsters. He whispered.

As soon as the words fell, in the shadow of the trees, the priest who was reciting the eulogy a hundred meters away suddenly stopped speaking, and the crowd quieted down, the women stopped crying, and the men stopped digging in the soil. The crowd spread out in unison.

The priest at the head straightened up his robes, parted the bushes, stepped on the thorns and came to Hoffa's side, and with an unfathomable smile, asked again, "Have you thought about it?"

"Is this world a dream?" Hoffa asked the Nightmare God.

"I can't answer, but in your dimension, no. At least not Sylby Spencer's creation. ”

Hoffa turned his head slowly, "You know my future, don't you? You know my reincarnation, right?"

"Sorry, I don't know. ”

The priest shook his head: "But I have learned from thousands of years of experience that you have no choice but to take responsibility for your future. ”

"If I go back, how do you want me to go back?" asked Hoffa.

"Dreams can take you across the world of temporal illusions and the deep world of cause and effect. The priest's light steps circled Hoffa, "like a dancer, jumping from point to point, as long as you don't pollute the principles of this world." ”

"I don't understand. Hoffa said.

"To put it simply, just resign yourself to your fate, and I can take you back in time. ”

"Can you come back?"

"No, I'll only help you until the moment you defeat the Centaur King, and then you don't mean anything to me. ”

"Oh, you're being honest. Hoffa couldn't help but laugh to himself, and he continued, "But Grindelwald is stopping me, and he wants to destroy this world directly." If he succeeds, the existence of both worlds loses its meaning, doesn't it?"

"Of course, if you don't want that to happen, you can be like Sylby. ”

"Same?"

"Drag Gellert Grindelwald into his dreams and seal him away. I have the ability to do that. As long as you promise to go back in time, I can help you defeat Grindelwald and help you get revenge. ”

"I'm not like Sylbie, I'm different from anyone. Hoffa denied it without hesitation.

"Words are pale, and I believe only in deeds. The God of Nightmares said.

Hoffa didn't speak, he thought of the future form of himself he saw in the underworld.

The future self agreed to the deal of the nightmare god, became the new nightmare god, and dragged Grindelwald into the nightmare, and then went back in time, waiting for the future self to visit.

The Grim Reaper saw such an ending, so he let himself go without care. Their own fate has formed a complete circle, and even as long as people related to their fate can't escape this ring, they and themselves are in this cycle again and again, losing their memories again and again, including themselves, and the only one who remembers everything is Aglaia in the underworld.

"Do I have no choice but to do that?"

Hoffa asked the god of nightmares.

"No, at least I can't see it. ”

The priest in the robe said with great certainty.

"You will accept your fate, you will. ”

In the face of his determination, this time, Hoffa could no longer say that happily - but I refused.

He felt like a grey hare being chased by hounds in the moor, no matter how fast he ran, no matter how far he ran, the hound would always catch up with him, find him, and eat him.

But his heart was always full of unwillingness, and that unwillingness was so strong that he couldn't promise the guy in front of him and accept the established fate.

So he took a step back, trying to get out of the nightmare god's gaze.

But it seemed to be to no avail, and the men and weeping women in the far side of the cemetery surrounded him.

He stepped back and bumped into a woman in black silk, who said, "We are destined to be connected, and that's why you feel so close to me, and why I've come to you for help." ”

So Hoffa immediately changed direction, and this time ran into a man with a shovel again.

The man with the shovel said: "Resistance is an extremely painful thing, and most of the time it is meaningless, if it is obedience sooner or later, early obedience can save many detours." ”

The Nightmare God has countless doppelgangers, each of whom can speak, but all have eyes as deep as the universe.

The crowd gathered here made Hoffa feel uneasy and oppressed, and he pushed away the women and priests around him, and strode away in a random direction. The crowd strolled behind him, unhurried.

He walked faster and faster along the road, and when he finally entered the city, the men who were chasing him were nowhere to be seen.

But at this time, all the pedestrians on the road turned their heads, looked at him, and said expressionlessly:

"You're going to take it, you're going to take it!"