The gray smoke from his cigarette mingled with the cold morning air in Washington, D.C., as Ulises Kerrigan walked slowly along the sidewalk. He watched the passersby out of the corner of his eye—office workers rushing through traffic and tourists with cameras snapping photos of anything that moved—and felt a deep revulsion as he walked alongside those "monkeys" without magic.
Despite the catastrophe in New York, his influence and credibility remained secure. MACUSA, in its usual incompetence, had still not discovered who the mole was who had deactivated the barriers and let Gellert Grindelwald walk right in through the front door. And if it were up to him, they never would.
However, not everything had gone as they'd hoped. Ulises exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, frowning. He still couldn't believe that Percival Graves was dead. Wiped out of existence in a single blow, not even a lock of hair remained to bury.
Aurelian Gaunt was a threat to their objectives. After the attack, Ulises had spent time investigating him much more thoroughly, compiling all the reports and rumors he could gather from the darkest guilds. He had to admit that, if they weren't on opposing sides in this impending war, he might actually come to admire him. Everything that boy had accomplished at such a young age was monstrous. And above all… to harm Gellert Grindelwald in that way, forcing him to flee—that wasn't something just anyone could do.
Ulysses let out a hoarse laugh, taking one last drag on his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and stomping it out. The sheer volume of insults, curses, and vows of vengeance and blood that Grindelwald had hurled at Aurelian Gaunt over the loss of his arm was enough to fill an entire library. The Archmage had not yet fully recovered, either physically or mentally, which caused his plans for conquest to be delayed indefinitely.
But war wasn't won with spells or curses alone; it was won with information. And Ulises knew exactly which damned Muggle to squeeze it out of.
He arrived at the imposing entrance to the White House. He smiled, displaying his usual charm, and showed his special liaison badge to the Secret Service agents. They, accustomed to his government-authorized presence, recognized him immediately and let him through without asking any further questions.
Ulysses walked through the luxurious hallways of the White House with the confidence of someone who believes he owns the place. He greeted a few officials and secretaries who crossed his path with feigned courtesy, until he reached the doors of the Oval Office.
Upon entering without knocking, he found President Bill Clinton standing near his desk, loosening his tie with one hand while holding a crystal glass of whiskey in the other.
Upon seeing him enter, the President's face lit up with that false familiarity typical of a politician.
"Ulises!" Clinton exclaimed, opening his arms in greeting. "What a surprise. It's rare for you to drop by my office just like that. Usually, the only way I see you around here is if I send for you to get reports from your… people."
Ulises closed the heavy door behind him, making sure the latch clicked into place, and nodded slowly.
"Today is different, Mr. President," he replied in a terrifyingly calm voice.
Clinton laughed heartily, stepping past him to approach the small office bar.
"Well, it's always a pleasure to see you. Can I offer you a drink? I have some excellent bourbon, or if you prefer something milder, I can pour you…"
"I appreciate the offer, Bill," Ulises interrupted, taking a step toward the center of the Oval Office. "But as I said, today is different."
The unusually cold and dry tone made Clinton stop mid-pour. The President turned around, frowning, with the glass still raised. As he did, he saw that Ulises had already drawn his dark wooden wand and was pointing it directly at his chest.
Clinton's eyes widened. His survival instinct made him drop the glass, which shattered on the floor, and he tried to run toward the panic button on his desk.
But Ulises was far, far faster. With a simple flick of his wrist, a force struck Clinton, paralyzing him instantly and pushing him roughly until he fell backward into one of the guest chairs.
The President struggled in vain against the magic that immobilized him, and his surprise quickly turned to rage.
"What the hell is this nonsense, Kerrigan?!" Clinton shouted, his face flushed. "Stop whatever you're doing to me right this very moment! I'm the President of the United States!"
Seeing that the wizard didn't react, Clinton began screaming at the top of his lungs toward the door.
"Guards! Guards! Security! Security! Help me, there's someone in here!"
Ulysses smiled wryly, walking slowly toward him with his wand in hand.
"It's no use, Bill. Yell all you want. I've sealed the room; no one out there will be able to hear you—not even if I set off a bomb in here would they hear a thing."
The reality of the situation finally hit the Muggle. Fear replaced his anger as Ulises leaned over him. The wizard raised his free hand, extended his index finger, and began tapping his forehead with mocking taps.
"I need answers about their little projects… and you're going to give them to me," Ulises whispered.
Clinton tried to pull his head away, finally connecting the dots in his mind.
"It was you… you damned creatures," roared the President, his eyes bloodshot, spitting out the words. "It was your disgusting kind that caused the explosion in Nevada! Do you have the slightest idea how much damn work I've had to do since then? All the top brass at the Pentagon are going crazy, demanding answers and searching for whoever's responsible for the disaster at Area 51—and it turns out it was all because of a betrayal by someone on my own team!"
Ulises looked at him with annoyance, already bored with his complaints.
"Shut up already, monkey."
With a sharp flick of his wand, President Clinton's lips were magically sealed shut, fusing together as if his mouth had been sewn shut. The man's screams turned into muffled moans of panic as he desperately tried to open his mouth.
"That's much better—you look prettier when you're quiet," whispered Ulises, straightening his jacket.
He stood before the terrified leader of the Muggle world, raised his wand until it was just centimeters from the President's bulging eyes, and prepared to use Legilimency on that stupid Muggle, ready to rip every single secret he harbored straight from his mind.
Ulises closed the distance, pointed his wand directly at the President's sweaty brow, and with a ruthless smile, whispered the spell.
"Legeremens"
Bill Clinton tried to scream through his magically sealed lips. His pupils darted wildly, jumping frantically in all directions in a panic, until, suddenly, they froze completely. His body went limp all at once, slumping onto the sofa in the Oval Office like a mere puppet whose strings had just been cut.
Ulysses smiled smugly and mercilessly delved into the filthy mind of the damned monkey.
At first, as he navigated the superficial layers of his consciousness, he found only ordinary and pathetically mundane memories. He saw blurry images of his family, the pride he felt on the day he was sworn in as President of the nation, and the greed gleaming in his eyes when he received the massive checks from taxpayers. It was all very predictable.
But when Ulises forced the magic to dig deeper and reached the dark depths of the president's mind, he couldn't help but burst out laughing within that mental space.
He'd always known that Bill was a man with his own secrets—dirty secrets—but he hadn't expected to find so many, nor of such magnitude. The President was a complete sicko. In the shadows of his psyche, Ulises discovered a nauseating web of child trafficking, abuses of power, high-level prostitution, and a whole host of other grotesque atrocities that, for the sake of his own sanity, he decided it was best not to examine in depth. Monkeys always found ways to outdo each other in their own filth.
He traveled deeper into the corridors of his memory, pushing aside the trash, until he finally stumbled upon the memory he was looking for.
In the vision, Clinton was cornered in an underground war room. Several army commanders and generals with chests full of medals stared at him with contempt and rage, yelling at him for his gross incompetence and lack of commitment, while Clinton apologized, sweating buckets. Suddenly, one of the senior officers lost his temper, grabbed the President by the collar of his suit, and lifted him off the ground.
"Our most important facilities were attacked and nearly completely destroyed, and you did absolutely nothing to prevent it!" the officer roared in his face.
In the memory, Bill blinked, clutching the general's wrists, and asked with foolish innocence why that base in the desert was so important.
Upon hearing that question, all the military officers in the room looked at one another, and a realization dawned on them. They shook their heads, realizing that their Commander-in-Chief was an ignorant man who didn't know the truth. The soldier who had him by the collar let out a weary sigh. He slowly let him go, straightened the lapels of his suit, and with an amused, condescending smile, told him not to worry about such matters—that he just had to do what he always did: smile and look good for the cameras.
Ulises abruptly broke eye contact, breaking the spell. He let go of the President and took a step back.
He stared at him. Bill was sitting in the chair, convulsing as a stream of thick drool trickled from the corner of his mouth. Ulises snorted in annoyance. He'd always known the President was a puppet of the corporations, but he'd hoped he'd know more about their plans for the magical world. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. He was a complete waste of space from start to finish.
He pointed his wand once more at the man drooling on the couch.
"Obliviate"
An imperceptible flash altered the last few minutes of his memory. Bill stopped convulsing immediately; his muscles relaxed, and he fell into a deep sleep.
Moments later, with a slight wave of Ulises's wand, Clinton blinked, waking up completely. He opened his eyes heavily, feeling exhausted, and brought a hand to his head. As his vision came into focus, he noticed Ulises, who was looking at him with a feigned expression of concern.
"What… what happened to me?" stammered the President.
Ulises quickly approached, tucking his wand inside his jacket, and took him by the arm to help him sit up.
"I came into the office to give you my weekly report, Mr. President, and found you passed out on the floor," Ulises lied gently. "It seems the stress got the better of you. Then I helped you sit down on the couch. Are you all right?"
Bill Clinton nodded awkwardly, massaging his temples with a grimace of pain.
"Yes… yes, that must be it. Stress. My head hurts terribly," the President muttered, before looking at him gratefully. "I really appreciate your help, Kerrigan. You're a good man."
Ulises smiled back, nodding with humble courtesy, while a single thought echoed in his mind"You really are a damn monkey."
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