Almost a week had passed since the battle in the heart of New York, and Aurelian Gaunt had finally managed to find a moment of peace to shut himself away in his office.
Once again, he had found himself in the eye of the storm. And, once again, he had had to endure endless meetings, issue press releases, and deal with the favors the Van Droombeelds were trying to extract from others, portraying their actions as a "defeat" of Grindelwald and thereby further boosting their image in the wizarding world. If you added to that whole damn situation the fact that Hestia and Flora were watching over him and taking care of him almost twenty-four hours a day to make sure he didn't do anything stupid that would hurt him again, the result was that he hadn't had a single free second to himself.
Physically, he felt much better. He raised his right hand and wiggled his fingers, feeling the joints respond smoothly. The skin still looked unsightly—still red and bearing the scarred mark of the arcane pattern on the back of his hand—but his natural affinity for Parseltongue and potions had helped him speed up his recovery tremendously. Even so, Hestia made him keep changing the bandage and applying an ointment every single day without fail.
With a sigh of relief, Aurelian pushed open the doors to his private office in the mansion.
As he entered, he stopped short. He had completely forgotten about the chaos he'd find inside. Papers were scattered everywhere, huge towers of documents piled on the armchairs, folders of confidential matters spilling off the shelves, and a wide variety of metal objects and pieces of technology—whose names he didn't even know—scattered across the carpet. It was all the loot from his trip. Everything Stinky had touched, made disappear, and teleported during his visit to Area 51.
"Kid? Is that you?" asked a deep voice from the back of the room.
Aurelian raised both hands and began moving them fluidly.
"Yes, it's me," he replied, as all the magic around him came to life.
Guided by his movements, the hundreds of pieces of paper flew through the air and magically sorted themselves, grouping by color or size into neat piles; the folders stacked themselves in the corners, and the metal objects arranged themselves on one side of the door, clearing the way for him to his massive oak desk.
Upon seeing him, the imposing portrait of Salazar Slytherin, hanging on the main wall behind the desk, let out a dramatic sigh before frowning and glaring at him with obvious anger.
"Where on earth did you get all this junk, Aurelian?!" Salazar demanded, pointing at the mess with his finger. "Just the other day, I was sitting here peacefully, enjoying my existence in this portrait while sharing my views on the modern world with Nythoros, when, out of nowhere, hundreds of metal objects and white pieces of paper began falling all over this damn room nonstop until they nearly buried me!"
Salazar crossed his arms, narrowed his eyes, and in a tone that brooked no argument, demanded,
"You'd better start talking, boy. Tell me about each and every one of your so-called adventures in the 'New World.'"
Aurelian smiled slightly, dragged his leather chair in front of the portrait, and sank into it. Calmly, he poured himself a glass of water, and over the next hour, he proceeded to summarize his entire journey through the United States for his illustrious ancestor.
He told him about the structure of MACUSA and how Americans segregated wizards from Muggles to ridiculous extremes. He recounted in detail his journey through Salem, his visit to the cemetery, and how, thanks to other recent events, he was able to help the town's restless souls finally cross over to the afterlife. He recounted his visit to the mysterious Salem Witches' Institute, the Ace of Spades, and finally, his infiltration of the Pentagon, the discovery of the torture and experiments at Area 51, his newfound worldwide fame, and the duel he fought against the Dark Wizard Gellert Grindelwald in the heart of New York City.
Salazar Slytherin listened to the account with rapt attention, never interrupting. There were parts of the story where the Founder's brow furrowed in astonishment, and other parts where his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched with deep disgust, almost terrified by the cruelty and the evolution of the Muggles' strategies and organization.
When Aurelian finally finished speaking and fell silent, Salazar shook his head, looking at his descendant with great concern and a spark of admiration.
"By all the gods..." Salazar murmured, rubbing his beard. "The world you live in today is even crazier than what you told me a long time ago, Aurelian. Muggles tracking magic and experimenting with our blood? A wizard allied with them to hunt us down and exterminate us? The entire natural order is turned upside down; I fear for the future."
"And that's why we need to understand them before they can crush us," Aurelian replied, nodding coolly. He gestured with his good hand toward all the documents and objects inside the office. "Everything in here is what Stinky managed to recover from the underground level before I blew up that base. I hope this gives me a clear idea of exactly what the Muggles know about us and whether they've already come to understand magic on a deeper level."
Salazar sighed heavily.
"Going through all of this will take you months… But it's necessary. Just do me one favor, boy. The next time you're going to flood my space with stolen items, give me a heads-up so I can retire to sleep in peace."
Without saying another word, and making it clear that he'd heard enough for the day, the portrait of Salazar Slytherin stopped moving. His eyes lost their spark of consciousness, and the painting once again became just an ordinary canvas—a sign that the great Founder had retired to rest or to visit some other painting in the mansion, leaving him completely alone.
Aurelian sat up straight in his chair, pulled the first stack of classified U.S. government reports closer, and, with a calculating smile, cracked the knuckles of his left hand.
"Very well," he murmured to himself, reading the first title. "Let my afternoon of reading begin."
Aurelian arranged the first files on the desk, lit only by candlelight, and began his "wonderful" afternoon of reading.
It didn't take him long to discover that the U.S. government was far more twisted and obsessed than he had imagined. Some of the documents delved horrifically into the descriptions he had already glimpsed during his infiltration of the Pentagon. They detailed with precision the anatomy and behavior of magical creatures, ranging from colossal giants to elusive vampires.
All the reports, classified by the Department of Defense, contained behavioral patterns, black-and-white photographs of the creatures in confinement, and extensive analyses of their physical vulnerabilities and weaknesses.
Aurelian slowly shook his head as he finished flipping through that section. As he studied the macabre photos of the test subjects in their sterile cells, he realized a dark truth: those individuals had also been held prisoner in the underground level of Area 51. And, considering they weren't among the people he had saved and sent with Victor, it was most likely that all of them had died long ago as a result of the brutal human experiments.
Two hours later, his eyes were growing heavy. He had found some interesting information about Muggle satellite surveillance and its containment protocols, but nothing truly relevant or that posed a direct threat to his empire.
Until, at the bottom of a metal box, his bandaged fingers brushed against a black leather folder. On the cover, printed in red letters, it read:
PROJECT: AEGIS - TOP SECRET. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Aurelian opened it curiously. As his purple eyes scanned the first few pages, the blood ran cold in his veins.
"That son of a bitch," Aurelian thought.
That damned traitor—the scientist-wizard born to Muggles—had indeed provided the human government with extensive and precise details on how magic worked. In those reports, he had laid out everything he knew about channeling, magical cores, the theory of transformation, and enchantments, translating the secrets of his race into physical terms and mathematical formulas that Muggles could understand.
Aurelian kept reading, flipping through the pages quickly. Fortunately for the magical world—and to Aurelian's relief—the traitor was a fourth-rate wizard. His knowledge of magical theory, runes, and dark magic was mediocre, so almost everything he had written was conceptually flawed. However, what he lacked in magical skill, he made up for with terrifyingly advanced scientific and military knowledge.
According to the blueprints and theories in the file, the ultimate goal of all the experiments involving the creatures and the prisoners' blood was to develop a device that would protect humans from magic and, ultimately, nullify it entirely. The name they had chosen for the project was no coincidence; it came from Greek, making a clear reference to the Aegis, the invincible shield of Zeus himself. A metaphor for the shield with which they wanted to protect humanity from magicians.
After finishing the last page of the folder, Aurelian slammed the file shut, let out a long sigh, and rubbed his tired eyes with his left hand.
Despite the project's dark nature, Aurelian had learned something vital—a detail that changed everything: the Muggles had the theory, but they failed in practice. They still didn't have anything real, tangible, and functional to protect themselves from magic. Zeus's shield remained nothing more than a dream on paper. And that vulnerability opened an immense door for his future plans—before humans managed to even the odds.
Just as his mind began to devise new moves, the office door opened with a faint creak.
Flora poked her head through the opening. Her hair was down, she wore a soft silk robe, and her expression was a mix of impatience and tenderness.
"It's time for our little cuddle session," Flora said, leaning against the doorframe. "Hestia and I are waiting for you in bed, and your children want to talk to you, too. Don't keep us waiting any longer."
The aura surrounding Aurelian vanished instantly, replaced by a warm smile.
"I'll be there in a moment, my dear life" he replied gently.
Flora nodded, pleased with his response, and closed the door carefully.
Once he was alone again, Aurelian turned his gaze back to the somber black folder from Project Aegis resting on his desk. All the effort, the bloodshed, and the ambition of humanity condensed into those pages.
"What a load of crap," Aurelian muttered with disdain.
Seeing no need to keep it, he snapped the fingers of his left hand. A blue fire erupted over the folder, consuming the leather, the paper, and the secrets of the U.S. government in an instant, leaving nothing but a handful of ashes on the table.
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