Aurelian maintained a predatory smile on his face, perfectly concealing his true ambitions behind a mask of kindness and courtesy. He nodded slowly, giving the wizard exactly what he wanted to hear.
"I understand perfectly, Lord Victor," Aurelian replied in a soft voice. "And I am completely certain that, with your invaluable help and resources, we will be able to achieve wonderful things. We will transform this world from its very foundations into something better."
Upon hearing those words, Victor Van Droombeeld clapped his hands together, genuinely amazed. The old wizard's eyes glistened with tears. Unconcerned with his status or the pain that still lingered in his joints, Victor hurried toward Aurelian and dropped to his knees before his chair.
"My Lord!" Victor exclaimed, his voice trembling with emotion. "I pledge my absolute loyalty and that of the entire House of Van Droombeeld. I will place my gold, my connections, and my influence entirely at your disposal. Together we will purge the unworthy, raise magic to its rightful throne, and crush those magicless beasts who dare to consider themselves our equals. We will burn them in their own homes, destroy their cities and their families—we..."
Victor's speech was rapidly veering into an increasingly chaotic and grotesque genocidal monologue. Aurelian, realizing that the old man was losing himself in his own momentary ecstasy, raised a hand urgently.
"That's fine, Victor," Aurelian interrupted, offering a smile of understanding. "I get the point. That's enough."
Just then, the doors to the room swung open again. The butler entered, pushing an elegant silver cart laden with many more appetizers and bottles. Upon seeing his proud master kneeling before the young British man, the servant didn't hesitate for a single second; he stopped the cart, walked toward them, and also dropped to one knee on the floor, bowing his head in a sign of loyalty.
Aurelian let out a soft sigh, rubbing his temple.
"Please, both of you, stand up," he ordered, gesturing with his hand. "Don't get me wrong—I appreciate the gesture—but why all this? I understand the gratitude for rescuing you from that place in the desert, but this level of devotion strikes me as… curious, given how little time we've known each other."
Victor stood up with the help of the table, dusting off his knees, and gestured for his butler to stand as well.
"It's not just about the rescue, Aurelian. I consider you a true leader," Victor explained, sitting back down across from him, his face lit up by the admiration he felt for the young man. "I've been studying you since long before you crossed the pond. I've closely followed your career these past few years, ever since your name came to light. You're the young man who, out of nowhere, restored both glory and terror to the ancient Gaunt name. You founded Gauntcorp, revolutionizing aspects as deeply rooted in our society as magic brooms, and above all… you're the creator of the Arcane Patterns."
Victor turned to his servant with a proud smile.
"Paul, tell him what you thought back then when we read the first reports of his inventions—go on, tell him," he insisted.
Aurelian looked at the older man, finally realizing that the loyal butler's name was Paul.
The elderly servant straightened up, looking at Aurelian not only with the respect due to a lord, but with the admiration of someone who knows he is in the presence of a genius.
"I thought you were a true revolutionary, my lord," Paul declared in a deep, sincere voice. "For centuries, our society has been stagnant, repeating the same spells like parrots. But you proved to be a true magician—someone who wasn't content with what was already known, but who pushed the limits of magic itself, rewriting the laws of what was possible up to this point."
Aurelian leaned back in his chair and smiled broadly. He couldn't help it. Sometimes, amid so many conspiracies, lies, and manipulations, it felt quite good to hear someone praise his intellect. The fact that they recognized his work brought him far more joy than any title they could bestow upon him.
Victor approached again, moving slowly so as not to make him uncomfortable, and placed both hands on Aurelian's shoulders.
"I owe you my life and my magic, young man. And that is priceless in this world. My unconditional loyalty is the least I can give you."
The tense atmosphere surrounding the oaths of loyalty dissipated and gave way to a much more pleasant and productive conversation. They discussed how the Van Droombeelds would begin pulling strings within MACUSA to further Aurelian's interests.
In the middle of the conversation, a memory flashed through Aurelian's mind. He reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out the cold, metal letter that the director of the Salem Institute of Witches had given him months earlier, after he had purified the cemetery.
"Well, changing the subject… there's something I'd like to know," said Aurelian, placing the object on the table and sliding it toward the old man. "Do you recognize this card, Victor?"
Victor looked down at the table. Upon seeing the gleaming Ace of Spades engraved on the metal, he raised his eyebrows in disbelief and surprise, bursting out laughing. Without touching it, he gestured with his hand, signaling his butler to take it.
"Well, well… my lord," Victor murmured, amused, as Paul picked up the metal object with extreme care. "I know almost nothing about them, young man, but Paul belonged to the Order from which that little letter comes… until he retired with honors some thirty years ago."
Aurelian tilted his head, his curiosity piqued.
"What exactly is that mysterious organization?"
Victor scratched his chin, shrugging.
"As I said, I don't know much. It's an extremely secretive group, even for us. What I can assure you is that they predate the very founding of MACUSA. They operate in the shadows, watch over the continent, and accept only—and exclusively—the very best of the best into their ranks."
Paul, who had been stroking the engraving of the Ace of Spades with nostalgia, handed the metal card back to Aurelian. Now, the butler looked at him with a respect that bordered on fanaticism.
"The Ace of Spades is not a simple invitation, my lord," Paul explained. "In the Order, that specific card is only given to those wizards or witches who have performed an unprecedented magical feat—something that defies what was once believed to be impossible or that demonstrates overwhelming power."
The old butler paused, taking in the truth of the young man standing before him.
"In all my years of life and service, I have seen the Ace of Spades presented on only one occasion. The one you hold in your hands is merely the second I have witnessed in my entire existence. Treasure it, Lord Gaunt."
Aurelian took the card, running his thumb along its edges, and slipped it back into the inside pocket of his coat.
"The Ace of Spades," Aurelian thought, flashing a wry smile. It really was fascinating. Apparently, regardless of whether or not they had magic running through their veins, Americans were fascinated by creating secret organizations, elite orders, and covert agencies.
And yes, that Order had captured his full attention; Aurelian Gaunt was definitely going to find out what lay behind it and how to use that letter to his advantage.
A few kilometers away, somewhere in the bustling heart of New York, Ulises Kerrigan was sitting at the bar of a crowded Muggle bar, eating a quick bite and taking a long swig of his ice-cold beer.
Oblivious to it all, the Muggles around him chatted and laughed, but Ulises didn't even notice them. A dark smile graced his handsome face as he mentally replayed the news that had just shaken and horrified the wizarding world. Aurelian Gaunt had destroyed Area 51, exposing what those disgusting monkeys were doing to his people.
Suddenly, a surge of rage flashed through his mind. Ulises gripped the glass so tightly that it creaked dangerously close to shattering.
That stupid, arrogant Bill Clinton had been hiding it from him all this time, treating him with that disgusting condescension every day in the Oval Office. Loosening his grip on his beer slightly, Ulises snorted. Thinking about it calmly, that brute didn't even know anything about the existence of that underground magical research laboratory. When he found out, he'd even read the president's mind in search of information about the place but found nothing; the other members of the government were keeping their president in the dark. Typical of Muggles.
Anyway, getting back to the main point, Ulises was now even more eager to meet the infamous Aurelian Gaunt in person. Just imagining the now-disfigured face of the proud Percival Graves, foaming at the mouth and trembling with rage as he read the news about his worst enemy's heroic and newfound worldwide fame…
Ulises let out a hoarse laugh, drawing a couple of curious glances in the bar, and took another sip of his beer to celebrate the moment.
He looked out through the large window of the establishment, gazing at the imposing skyscrapers of New York City, and smiled with pure malice.
Today, MACUSA would be attacked. Gellert Grindelwald himself, after decades of silence on that continent, was going to strike at the heart of the American magical government. Soon, the Dark Lord would exact his bloody revenge for what had happened in the past, and the war for the absolute supremacy of wizards would begin to heat up again. This alone would not unleash the war, but it would be a new and powerful spark… exactly like the one ignited by the Gaunt boy when he revealed to everyone the twisted darkness of those filthy monkeys.
"I'll definitely remember to thank him if we ever cross paths," Ulysses thought with amusement.
He finished his drink, stood up, and left some bills on the bar. He gave the Muggle waitress a charming—and completely fake—smile; she blushed instantly, unaware that the man smiling at her wished to see her and her entire race burn.
Ulysses stepped out onto the noisy streets of Manhattan, ready to carry out the final, crucial step for Grindelwald's arrival.
He walked until he reached the Woolworth Building, the hidden headquarters of MACUSA. He entered, greeting a couple of Aurors he knew, using his status as a government liaison to avoid arousing suspicion. Once inside the complex, he veered away from the public areas. His mission was precise: he had to sneak into the Auror control room and deactivate—for at least thirty seconds—the anti-Apparition defenses of the main building.
Ulysses slipped in quickly, knocked out the lone guard in the south hallway with a silencing spell, and manipulated the defense core.
He executed his part flawlessly, and the containment barriers fell.
Twenty seconds later, the air in the private lobby distorted violently. With a series of sharp pops, ten wizards clad in black robes appeared out of nowhere in the heart of MACUSA.
At the head of them all, radiating an imposing power that caused the room's temperature to drop, stood Gellert Grindelwald.
Ulises immediately bowed his head, showing his respect upon seeing the legendary Dark Lord. Grindelwald walked toward him, paused, and gave him a smile, patting him on the shoulder a couple of times.
"I thank you for your service, boy," Grindelwald said in his unmistakable voice. "The Kerrigans have always been of great value to the cause."
Ulises looked up, his chest swelling with pride, but his attention was quickly drawn to the figure walking right behind the Dark Lord.
It was Vinda Rosier. Dressed in a way that didn't detract from her elegance, the French witch walked past him. As their eyes met, Vinda gave him an enigmatic smile and winked at him.
Ulises's heart skipped a beat. "Oh, by Merlin…" he thought, feeling his blood boil. How that woman drove him wild. She was beautiful, seductive, and damn sexy. She was the perfect witch.
Following the entourage as they began their assault on MACUSA, Ulises watched her walk, and he made a vow to himself amid the impending chaos. Someday, no matter what he had to do or whom he had to betray, he would make Vinda Rosier his own.
And Ulises Kerrigan always kept his promises.
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