CHAPTER 152: THE AGUILLON FAMILY

They arrived like nobility.

Three members of the French-American Aguillon family, descendants of Keepers who traced their lineage to the 19th century. Their car was expensive. Their clothes were tailored. Everything about them spoke of old money carefully maintained.

Philippe Aguillon led them. Silver-haired and elegant, he moved with the confident grace of a man who had never doubted his place in the world. His children followed. Claire, blonde and sharp-eyed, carried herself with casual confidence. Matthieu, darker and quieter, observed everything with an analyst's precision.

They now lived in California and ran a tourism agency. That was probably how they had arranged the fake IDs and passports for Marcus and Tom. Connections in many places.

Marcus was in the middle of reviewing ancient memoirs from other two-worlders when he heard the commotion outside. He set down the crumbling journal and stepped out to welcome them.

The Turkish sun was bright. The Aguillons squinted against it as they emerged from their rental car.

"Our family has waited generations for another two-worlder." Philippe said warmly. He clasped Marcus's hands in both of his own. His grip was firm. His smile genuine. "My great-grandfather was one himself. Victor Aguillon. A brilliant mind who shaped our family's purpose."

Something about the name tugged at Marcus's memory. He pushed it to the back of his mind. There were too many names now. Too many family histories to keep track of.

Philippe continued enthusiastically. "They told me much about you and your adventures. Especially Van Bastian, my dear friend, was most excited." His eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Is it here? Can I see it?"

"Sorry?" Marcus was confused. "See what?"

"The foreign object you call it.... hmmm." Philippe snapped his fingers trying to remember.

"The Seed, Dad." Claire completed.

"Ah yes, thanks dear. Is it here?"

Marcus turned to Hasan who had come outside to greet the guests. "I am taking them to my study room. Mr. Yıldız, is that okay?"

"Sure Marcus. It is your house now. You can do whatever you want." Hasan nodded, smiling warmly. His hospitality was through the roof. Together with Baran he had been continuously trying to comfort the visiting Keeper families.

Marcus welcomed the trio to his study room. The space had become cluttered with papers and journals over the past days. Ancient texts in languages he couldn't read. Hand-drawn maps of places that no longer existed.

He retrieved the seed from its hiding place and revealed it.

The object was faintly glowing green and humming slightly. But other than that, for a naked eye, it represented nothing remarkable. Just a strange metallic sphere with intricate patterns.

The Aguillon family reviewed it carefully. They passed it between them. Held it up to the light. Theorized insane obscure scenarios about its origins and purpose. All of which Marcus denied as gently as he could.

After ten minutes they settled and sat. Hasan brought tea to his guests, the cups steaming on a silver tray.

This time the questions were Marcus's turn to ask.

"Do you have photographs of him?" Marcus tried to sound casual. "Victor, I mean. I'm curious about other two-worlders."

Philippe beamed with pride. "Of course! Claire, the album."

Claire produced an antique photo album from her bag. Leather-bound and carefully preserved. The spine cracked slightly as she opened it. She turned to a page showing a stern-faced man in 19th-century formal wear.

Marcus's world tilted.

He knew that face. Different clothes, different era, but the bone structure was the same. The intensity in the eyes was the same. He had seen that face twisted by madness and power. Seen it commanding armies. Seen it reaching for ultimate control.

Malachar.

Victor Aguillon was Malachar's Earth body.

Tom's eyes widened at the photo. He started speaking rapidly in Valdrian to Marcus. Words tumbling over each other. But coincidentally he didn't mention Malachar's name.

Marcus turned to his cousin and spoke quietly in Valdrian. "Stop. Leave the room. I will explain everything after I learn more."

Tom looked at him with questions in his eyes but nodded and excused himself. The Aguillons looked confused but said nothing.

Marcus kept his expression neutral through sheer will. His heart was pounding. His palms were sweating. But he forced his face into polite curiosity.

"Interesting. What happened to him?"

"Murdered, tragically." Philippe said. Genuine sadness filled his voice. "By a young engineer he worked with. Some dispute over designs. Victor was developing revolutionary theories about energy and distance, far ahead of his time."

Philippe's eyes grew misty. "He was so ahead of his time spiritually as well."

"How so?" Marcus asked. He needed to know everything.

"He believed our planet also had magic, just like his two-worlder planet. He had notes about increasing his power with Earth's technology. So he wanted to do the reverse here."

"By manifesting magic here." Marcus completed.

"Exactly!" Philippe pointed at Marcus and snapped his fingers. "But none of his descendants had any way to bring his theories to life. And the scientific community didn't take him seriously. But here you are, in the flesh, from another planet."

"Yeah. Magic and science can definitely be combined. I was reviewing other notes from their ancestors." Marcus paused. His mouth almost didn't want to form the name. "Does Victor... have any personal notes?"

"Of course! We can definitely lend them to you. We had them all digitized. Matthieu can send you the email."

"What about the engineer?"

"What about him?" Philippe looked surprised.

"What happened to him?" Marcus pressed.

"Imprisoned. Died in the 1980s, we believe. Some of Victor's work was lost. His ideas dismissed as fantasy."

Marcus nodded slowly. Processing everything.

The family didn't know. They had no idea that their beloved ancestor became a dimensional tyrant who enslaved an entire world. They kept his photograph in a place of honor. Spoke of him with reverence.

He couldn't tell them. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"Thank you." Marcus said. "These notes might be exactly what I need."

Philippe smiled, completely unaware of the storm in Marcus's mind. "We're happy to help. Victor would have wanted his work to mean something."

Oh it means something, Marcus thought. It means everything.

It meant war across worlds. It meant slavery for millions. It meant a portal built on the bones of the innocent.

And somewhere in those notes might be the key to stopping it all.