"Yes, but I'm only an adopted son here," the Senator said with a polite smile, leaning back in his chair. "Let me properly introduce myself, Phillips Richard."
Ivan crossed his arms, his expression sharp but curious. "I've pieced together most of the puzzle," he said with a sigh. "The Metallia family is trying to amass a vast number of wizards through their… breeding program. Their goal is to control San Francisco entirely. As one of the other major families here, you can't let that happen."
Phillips nodded, letting Ivan continue.
"Drug trafficking and robberies, those are just distractions, aren't they? And your connections with the police? I imagine they're deeper than they seem. But what I don't understand is this; why did you delegate such a critical issue to someone like Snowden? Why weren't you taking it seriously from the start?"
Phillips smiled faintly, almost sheepishly. "That's quite simple, really. We didn't realize the full scope of Metallia's plans at first. Initially, we thought their actions were just to destabilize public order. Petty power plays."
Ivan exhaled slowly. "That makes more sense. A plot of this scale couldn't possibly be worth just a thousand Philippine dollars."
"Exactly," Phillips said, leaning forward. "It wasn't until your investigation uncovered certain… peculiarities that we realized there was far more at stake. Now, here we are."
Phillips paused and studied Ivan. "How much do you know?"
"Everything," Ivan replied firmly.
Phillips' brows lifted in faint surprise, but a small smile curved his lips. "That makes things much more convenient. Come with me, I want to show you something."
---
Ivan followed Phillips through a narrow corridor. The wood-paneled walls gleamed under the afternoon sunlight streaming through small windows. They walked in silence until they reached the door at the end of the hall.
Phillips pushed the door open to reveal a sunlit room. The light slanted down, illuminating a small bed. A young girl lay there, partially covered by a quilt, her pale face marred by bruises and scabbed-over cuts.
Ivan's chest tightened at the sight. The girl's injuries told a harrowing story before Phillips even spoke.
A middle-aged man with sharp blue eyes, brown hair, and a beard stood near the bed, his expression grim. Phillips gestured toward him. "This is Mr. Cruise," he said before turning his gaze to the girl. "And this is Alia. I believe you've guessed already, she's one of the 'mother copies.'"
Ivan's jaw tightened. "What happened to her?"
Phillips sighed, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. "Alia was a student at San Francisco. Two years ago, her classmates reported her missing. The police searched for her, but she vanished without a trace."
He gestured toward the bed. "A week ago, she was found collapsed outside the police station. She was barely alive, covered in injuries."
Ivan's hands curled into fists as Phillips continued. "After extensive medical treatment, we managed to piece together her story and with it, confirmation of the Metallia family's conspiracy. But..." Phillips' voice faltered, and he glanced at Cruise.
Cruise stepped forward. "Her physical injuries were severe but treatable. The real damage is… deeper. Her soul is shattered." He spoke with the authority of someone familiar with the arcane. "This isn't just a metaphor. We observed symptoms of memory confusion and increasing mental deterioration. As of yesterday, she has completely lost the ability to speak or move. She is, effectively, a vegetable."
Ivan's gaze hardened, but he kept his voice calm. "Ritual spell?"
Cruise nodded. "Almost certainly. Some cruel, unnatural spell designed to break her mind. If Metallia is allowed to continue their plans, this will only be the beginning."
Phillips added grimly, "You see now why this must be stopped. Their methods aren't just evil, they're inhuman."
Ivan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I want to help," he said honestly, "but what exactly are we supposed to do? We can't just storm the Metallia estate and kill everyone. That would cause more problems than it solves."
Phillips smiled faintly. "I had a feeling you'd say that." He gestured for Ivan to sit. "Of course, we can't act recklessly. The Robins family has influence, but overt violence would draw too much attention. The public knows nothing about the wizarding world. If I were to orchestrate a massacre, it would destroy my career. My political enemies would have a field day, painting me as a tyrant and the Metallias as innocent victims."
Ivan smirked wryly. "So you're not willing to sacrifice your future just to play hero. Figures."
Phillips didn't flinch at the remark. Instead, he shook his head, his smile growing more assured. "You misunderstand. We don't need brute force. We have another way. A better way."
Ivan leaned forward, curiosity piqued. "What way?"
Phillips' expression darkened slightly, a glint of calculation in his eyes. "Let's just say we're going to turn Metallia's own game against them. You're not the only wizard who can think creatively."
Ivan didn't reply immediately, but the tension in the room thickened. He had come here seeking clarity, and now it seemed like he was being handed a pivotal role in a conflict far larger than he'd anticipated. Whether he liked it or not, the Robins family and the Metallias were setting the stage for a war, one Ivan couldn't avoid.
"Do you know about the BOI, Ivan?" the senator asked, his tone measured and probing.
Ivan frowned slightly, the acronym stirring a vague familiarity. "The BOI? You mean... the FBI?" he ventured after a moment.
At this time in history, the FBI wasn't the juggernaut it would later become, but its involvement in counterintelligence during the war had brought it some notoriety. News about its activities had been trickling into public consciousness through the papers.
The senator nodded. "Yes, though technically it's still the Bureau of Investigation—BOI. While they officially focus on counter-terrorism and interstate crime, their *true* founding mission involves something far more specific: handling incidents related to wizards."
Ivan leaned back, digesting the revelation. It made sense. No government would leave such an unpredictable and dangerous element unchecked. "I suppose a state mechanism like that is inevitable," Ivan murmured.
The senator gestured toward the man standing quietly to the side. "Mr. Cruise here is one of their investigators."
Ivan turned to study Cruise. His warm, easy smile belied the weight of his position. There was a certain air of authority about him, but it was subtle, like a coiled spring hidden beneath the surface.
The senator continued, "I assume you don't mind me revealing your connection to the BOI, Mr. Cruise?"
Cruise chuckled softly, his blue eyes gleaming. "Not at all. In fact, we'd *prefer* that all wizards knew about the BOI that there's a sword hanging over their heads. Unfortunately, we can't exactly go knocking door to door, asking people if they're wizards."
Ivan noted the senator's deference toward Cruise and filed it away. Clearly, the BOI's reach and influence extended far beyond what Ivan had previously imagined.
"That said," Richard continued, "the BOI's approach to wizards is more laissez-faire than most realize. They rarely intervene directly. After all, wizards are numerous, and new ones appear randomly every month. They hide among ordinary people, making them nearly impossible to track effectively."
"But there is one exception," Cruise interjected, his tone suddenly sharper. "One line that cannot be crossed."
Ivan raised an eyebrow. "And what line would that be?"
"Actively turning ordinary people into wizards," Cruise said. His voice was calm, but there was a cold finality in his words.
Ivan's thoughts clicked into place. "So... the Metallia family's breeding program constitutes crossing that line?"
"Exactly," Richard said. "But here's the problem: we lack sufficient evidence to bring this to the BOI or the Ministry of Justice."
Ivan frowned. "Alia's testimony isn't enough?"
Richard shook his head. "She's a vegetable now, Ivan. Her condition renders her unable to testify in court. Without a living, credible witness or concrete evidence, the Ministry of Justice won't issue an arrest warrant, and the BOI can't act without proper authorization."
Ivan leaned forward, his frustration evident. "Then what's the plan? The Metallias won't just stop their operations on their own. They're taking a massive risk, but clearly, they think it's worth it."
"That's precisely why we still have a chance," Richard said, his voice calm but determined. "They either don't understand the full weight of the BOI's rules or are gambling that they won't get caught. Either way, they're continuing their experiments. That's where Martha comes in."
Ivan tensed at the mention of her name. "Martha... John Metallia told me she's one of the new 'mother copies.' Is that why you want my help? To get her out?"
"Exactly," Richard confirmed. "If we can rescue Martha and bring her to safety, she can help us prove the Metallia family's crimes. Her testimony could be the key."
Ivan wasn't convinced. "But how? I doubt they've told her the full extent of their plans. Even if we get her out, she might not know enough to testify."
Richard smiled faintly, as though he'd been expecting the question. "That's why we need to wait until the right moment. We've speculated that this breeding spell of theirs can only be performed on Sundays, when the influence of the Celestial Planet is at its peak."
Ivan's pupils narrowed as realization dawned.
Richard continued, "If we delay her rescue until after the ritual, until after she's been 'baptized' her condition will be irrefutable evidence of their crimes."
Ivan's voice dropped, cold and sharp. "You're saying we need to wait until she's *pregnant*. That's your plan?"
The room went silent for a beat. Richard didn't flinch under Ivan's accusing gaze. Instead, he nodded, his tone unapologetic. "It's the only way to ensure the Metallias face justice."
Ivan's expression hardened. "This… this is no different from what the Metallias are doing. You're using her as a pawn, just like they are."
Richard tilted his head, his smile faint and unyielding. "Perhaps. But we're working to stop them, not to expand their operation. This is the fastest, safest way to prevent the Metallias from succeeding. If we delay any longer, they'll have created a real army of wizards and by then, it'll be too late."
Ivan clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. After a moment, he turned to Cruise. "And what do you think, Mr. BOI investigator? Are you okay with this?"
Cruise's warm smile dimmed slightly. He straightened, his demeanor shifting to something colder and more clinical. "It's not about what's 'okay,' Mr. Ivan. It's about what works. If this plan succeeds, the BOI can eliminate a catastrophic threat before it grows beyond our control. And if there's collateral damage along the way…" He paused, his tone firm. "That's unfortunate. But necessary."
Ivan stared at him, his mind racing. A familiar anger burned in his chest, but so did the cold logic of their argument. He could see the path they were laying out, but every instinct in him rebelled against it.
"Unfortunate," Ivan repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. He shook his head, a grim smile tugging at his lips. "You people are just as dangerous as the Metallias. You just wear better masks."
Richard didn't respond, but his gaze remained steady, unyielding.
Finally, Ivan exhaled sharply. "Fine," he said, his voice laced with resolve. "I'll help. But don't mistake this for agreement. I'll save Martha, but on my terms."