Everything in this space-time continuum had been turned upside down.
It had been twisted to the point of suffocation.
Gellert Grindelwald had not been imprisoned. Instead, he had joined forces with Adolf Hitler, using magic to win World War II. However, the wizards' subsequent ambitions sparked a civil war, and ultimately, they were annihilated by the combined forces of technology and totalitarian rule.
Magic was no longer a hidden legend. It had become a 'dangerous technology' that was first exploited, and then eradicated, in public. Wizards had become this world's 'taboo' and an 'extinct race'.
And Ian...
A legendary mage from the original timeline who had just received the blessing of the Sun God and was destined to become a beloved white wizard had instead found himself in this terrifying era where wizards had already been declared extinct.
"What the hell is going on?!" Ian's thoughts churned violently. He had intended to travel back to the time of Merlin and King Arthur but had somehow ended up in a dark parallel universe where magic had been desecrated, exploited, and ultimately destroyed.
There were no Knights of the Round Table here, no glory of Camelot, only the iron heel of the Nazis and a History of Magic that had been erased.
And him...
He seemed to be the only surviving wizard.
"What did you do to me?!"
The Imperial Security Captain collapsed to the ground, his eyes hollow and drool spilling from the corners of his mouth. The Legilimency had caused permanent damage to his mind.
But Ian had no time to worry about that.
More sirens echoed from afar. Clearly, the disturbance here had already attracted a lot of attention.
Ian took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He had to leave immediately, find a safe place, and carefully devise a plan; this spacetime's darkness far exceeded his imagination. Not only had the Nazis won the war, but after wizards had been fully exposed, they had ended up like this.
It completely overturned everything he knew about the relationship between magic and Muggles.
"Leave first." Ian muttered to himself, waving his wand lightly to erase all traces he had left behind. He cast one last glance at the crowd lying under the effects of the Stupefy curse and at the captain, who had already lost control of his bodily functions.
"With no wizards or alchemists to produce alchemical materials, how am I supposed to repair my time machine?" Ian stood beside an empty police vehicle.
Worry gnawed at him.
He turned back once more.
His gaze swept over the fallen crowd; villagers and police alike were all immersed in dreamless unconsciousness. Only Captain Karl remained, half-kneeling with unfocused eyes and trembling lips.
It was as if he were still trying to process the collapse of everything he believed upon hearing the word 'wizard.'
In the distance, more sirens drew closer.
Time was running out.
Though Ian found it hard to accept, he knew this police unit was far from isolated. Their communication system must already have sent out an alert. More 'enforcers of imperial order' were on their way. He had to leave.
"Sigh… where there's a road, there's a way. I need to calm down."
He walked towards the dark grey armored police vehicle. The door was ajar, and the key was still in the ignition. This vehicle looked nothing like any modern police car he could remember; it resembled a cross between a military off-road vehicle and an armored personnel carrier. The body was heavy, the tires wide, and the interior filled with complex instrument panels and flashing red indicators.
Ian took a deep breath, opened the door, and sat in the driver's seat.
It was completely different from any car he had ever seen.
The control panel was so complicated that it made his head spin. Most confusing of all were the four pedals under his feet and the symbols on the gear lever, which were entirely incomprehensible.
"Damn it! Cars in this world don't even have automatic transmission?" Ian complained, recalling conversations with friends from another timeline.
He pressed the leftmost pedal while turning the key; the engine roared, but the car didn't move. He tried again, this time pressing the middle pedal too. The engine thundered like a beast awakening; the dashboard needles jumped wildly, and the headlights pierced the forest mist.
"All right, it started." Ian let out a breath of relief and pressed what he thought was the accelerator pedal on the right.
The car jerked violently and stalled.
"What?"
He restarted the engine and pressed the pedal again. This time, the car didn't stall but let out an ear-piercing roar and trembled violently.
"Damn it! Why is this thing so hard to handle?" He looked down and saw that there were four pedals, not the three he remembered. The leftmost pedal was the clutch, the two in the middle were the brake and accelerator, and the outermost pedal seemed to be an extension of the handbrake. Who knew why vehicles in this universe were structured so bizarrely?
Perhaps it was simply the result of this world taking a different path of development.
More police sirens sounded in the distance, and Ian could already see dust rising from the road far away.
Fortunately, his mind was sharp. Recalling what he had gleaned from the captain's memories, he began to piece things together and gain a rough understanding.
"Clutch… accelerator… gear shifting… damn, I've forgotten the sequence!" Ian was sweating profusely, and his fingers were fumbling over the gear lever. "Don't cars in films just move when you press the accelerator?!"
Finally, on the fifth attempt, the vehicle slowly began to move forward. Ian let out a breath of relief and was just about to accelerate when the car suddenly jolted violently.
He had forgotten to release the handbrake.
"Ah...!"
The police car shot forward like a crazed beast, bursting out of the forest path and plunging headfirst into a narrow dirt track.
Ian panicked and jerked the steering wheel from side to side. The front of the car swung wildly from side to side, crashing around like a bumper car as it careened between ruts. From the outside, the vehicle appeared to be performing some kind of bizarre dance, accelerating one moment and slamming on the brakes the next, its tires carving winding tracks across the dirt road.
Ian gripped the steering wheel tightly, his face pale. "Merlin, this is harder than dealing with the Dark Lord!"
Having had no experience with vehicles like this in either life, the most Ian had ever done was tinker with the small car owned by the head of his orphanage.
This performance monster was even more thrilling than a broomstick.
Fortunately, his reflexes were exceptional.
After the initial chaos, the car gradually stabilized and began moving forward along the road. Ian let out a long breath and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Left! Left! No, right! Damn it!"
While driving, he secretly used magic to create a 'dynamic balance field' in his subconscious to stabilize the vehicle. Otherwise, this several-tonne metal beast would have flipped into a ditch by now.
Yes, Ian was using magic to help him drive.
The next ten minutes were the most thrilling driving experience of his life. It felt as though he were controlling an untamed giant beast, relying entirely on magic to adjust the direction of the car, absorb shocks and anticipate obstacles. The car drifted through bends, bounced over potholes and, at one point, nearly collided with a wild boar crossing the road. Every close call made him curse loudly.
"This junk doesn't even have ESP! The aerodynamics are terrible! Has this world got its tech tree wrong?!" he complained, using magic to sense his surroundings.
He was avoiding danger in advance.
Less than a minute after he left, three police cars arrived in the village with their sirens blaring. The newly arrived officers stared in shock at their colleagues and villagers lying under the effects of the Stupefy curse and at the missing police vehicle.
"All units be advised! The suspect has stolen a police vehicle and is heading east!" Came a rapid German transmission over the radio.
Ian couldn't understand the broadcast, but he could guess its gist. Struggling to keep the vehicle steady, he began thinking about his next move.
After half an hour of 'bumper car–style' driving, the speed gradually increased, and a paved road appeared at the end of the dirt track. Ian caught sight of a road sign bearing German city names.
After another stretch of driving, the outline of a city finally appeared on the horizon.
It was a medium-sized city.
Its architectural style was strange, with traditional German buildings mixed with cold, modernist structures. Towering spires, massive circular complexes, dense clusters of smokestacks, and Nazi eagle emblems and swastika flags were visible everywhere. Under the grey sky, the atmosphere felt especially oppressive.
On the outskirts, a towering concrete wall encircled the city and was lined with searchlights and patrol towers, making it look like a prison. Ian knew he couldn't drive the stolen vehicle any further.
He stopped near an abandoned roadside station outside the city. The front of the car was dented, the tires were worn, and the bonnet was splattered with mud from the forest. He quickly got out, melted the key with magic, and threw it into an oily puddle. Then he carefully erased every trace he had left behind, including fingerprints, hair, and magical residue.
Finally, he cast several Confundus Charms to ensure that, even if someone found the car, they wouldn't be able to obtain any useful information from it.
"Goodbye, my first driving experience." He patted the vehicle and turned towards the city entrance. The way he disposed of the stolen car showed that he was quite experienced, despite not knowing how to drive, he had clearly watched enough crime movies to know that such vehicles were often tracked.
"Now… time to change my appearance."
Ian took out his wand and performed a human transfiguration spell on himself.
His bones cracked faintly as he grew slightly taller, his shoulders broadened, wrinkles and stubble appeared on his face, his hair turned grey, and his posture became slightly hunched.
A few seconds later, the reflection showed an ordinary-looking man in his fifties, dressed in plain grey work clothes and carrying a worn leather suitcase, perfectly blending into the lower classes of this world.
After confirming the transformation, Ian walked towards the city. Near the entrance, he saw a chilling checkpoint.
A reinforced concrete barricade blocked the road, and armed soldiers were carefully inspecting everyone entering the city. A massive slogan board read: "Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Führer." Beside it, an electronic display scrolled: 'Reporting suspicious behaviour is every citizen's duty.'
It was obvious... This place was under extreme control.
The ideology of imperial authoritarianism was on full display.
"Damn world..." Ian lowered his head and blended into the queue.
He noticed that everyone waiting in line wore a numb expression and avoided making eye contact with the soldiers. When they presented their documents, their arms would unconsciously make a gesture resembling a salute.
"Documents." When it was his turn, a stone-faced soldier spoke mechanically.
Ian handed over a 'civilian ID' that he had forged using magic; he had copied the format and anti-counterfeiting features from the memories of a police officer.
The officer scanned it. A green light lit up on the screen.
"Occupation?"
"Mechanical repair worker," Ian replied fluently in German.
"Destination?"
"The 7th Industrial District, Hans Factory." Ian answered smoothly.
The officer stared at him for two seconds, then waved him through. The moment he stepped into the city, Ian immediately felt a strange sense of "order."
The streets were wide and spotless, without a speck of dust.
Most of the buildings were square, cold, off-white concrete structures devoid of any aesthetic appeal. An eagle emblem stood at the top of every building, and slogans of the Führer were pasted on the windows.
Pedestrians wore uniforms or work clothes, walking in neat lines with their eyes fixed straight ahead. There was no laughter, no noise, barely even conversation. The reason was obvious: armed patrol officers stood every fifty meters, their hawk-like eyes sweeping over the crowd. They weren't there to protect the people.
They were monitoring them.
"Surface efficiency and cleanliness... hiding fear everywhere beneath," Ian thought to himself.
On the surface, it looked like an ordinary European city: people were shopping, trams were clanging as they passed, and customers were chatting outside cafés.
But the details revealed the truth of this society: loudspeakers were hung at every street corner and constantly broadcasted announcements and music, while uniformed armed units marched through the streets in perfectly ordered formations.
Copies of Mein Kampf and various propaganda materials were displayed in bookstore windows. Outside cinemas, there were posters advertising the latest propaganda film, Eternal Victory.
Even more striking to Ian was the fact that almost every public place displayed a 'Certificate of Racial Purity,' proving that all employees were pure-blooded Germans.
The regime's ideological branding was everywhere.
"What a mistake! What an absurd path of development! Heavens!" Coming from a normal world, Ian could naturally not accept such an order, one that made it feel as though humanity was being farmed and controlled.
Of course, he didn't show it, only complaining silently to himself.
"How am I supposed to fix my time machine?" Ian walked into what looked like an ordinary restaurant, hoping to gather more information. Beside the menu on the wall was a 'recommended nutritional ration.'
It was an absurd menu.
It actually categorized food standards according to race and occupation. When the waiter arrived, he first praised the Führer before asking Ian what he would like.
Ian casually ordered something and pretended to read the newspaper on the table.
The conversation at the neighboring table caught his attention.
Two middle-aged men were speaking in hushed tones, so quietly that they were almost inaudible. When they noticed Ian listening, they immediately changed the subject, loudly praising the latest model of the national car.
Ian sat in a corner of the restaurant, absentmindedly eating the bland stew on his plate.
It tasted mechanical and uniform, as if it had been mass-produced according to some standardized formula. Suddenly, the television mounted on the wall interrupted its regular program. After an intense musical prelude, a familiar face with a small mustache appeared; the Führer was delivering a live speech.
Everyone in the dining hall stopped what they were doing and turned towards the screen, their expressions solemn.
"We proudly announce to all citizens, and to the world, that the remaining wizard elements have been completely eradicated! These pests, lurking in the shadows and attempting to poison the world with evil magic, have been permanently wiped from the Earth! A pure and secure new era has arrived!"
The Führer's voice echoed clearly through the television loudspeakers, reaching every corner of the hall. Sparse but timely applause followed.
"Hmm?"
Only Ian's fork froze in mid-air.
Hearing the fate of wizards being declared so openly made his stomach churn. But then, an even more shocking detail seized his attention: his eyes locked onto the face on the screen.
That face... was far too young.
(End of Chapter)
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