Aleksander followed them inside the mansion's vaulted halls, polished wood panels and flickering chandeliers casting long shadows. Minerva glanced back sharply. "How are you faring at that academy? And are you eating properly? None of this skipping meals nonsense."
Don't be fooled by her grandmother vibe, Aleksander didn't underestimate her— after his Grandmother Minerva led their intelligence networks worldwide, her mind was basically a steel trap. He answered steadily, recounting Nevermore highlights without fluff.
Curiosity building, he turned to Grigori. "Grandfather, why the sudden meeting?"
Grigori's face hardened, twinkle fading as he tugged his beard. Minerva's lips thinned.
"I'll explain everything once the meeting starts," Grigori rumbled.
They led him to the grand meeting room—high ceilings, a massive oak table ringed by leather chairs, maps and artifacts lining the walls. His parents, Cassandra and Ilya, waited alongside Uncle Jane, murmuring in low tones. Spotting Aleksander, they rose; Cassandra pulled him into a warm hug, Ilya clapping his shoulder firmly.
Moments later, the doors opened again. Aleksander's maternal grandparents entered: John Roulen, silver-white hair neatly combed, grey goatee trimmed sharp, fair skin lined around piercing blue eyes behind spectacles. Lean and commanding in a sweater vest and blazer, he carried the air of a lab-bound elder statesman.
Beside him, Janet Roulen—late early 60s, long wavy silver hair with dark streaks, windblown and untamed—moved with quiet poise, her eyes sharp.
Leading lights at Erudite Core Technologies—John a master of entomology, atomic physics, chemistry; Janet was master in quantum physics and biochemistry—they lit up at Aleksander.
Janet enveloped him first, hug brisk but genuine. "Look at you—holding up against all that supernatural chaos?"
John adjusted his glasses, gruff nod approving. "Kid's tougher than my last particle accelerator. But don't let 'em turn your brain to mush out there."
Grigori boomed from the table, mustache twitching with pride. "Cracking cases like a true hunter! Well done, lad."
Minerva nodded crisply, eyes approving. "Impressive work. Intelligence like that runs in the family."
Before sitting, Janet pulled a slim case from her satchel. "Custom job for you. Erudite upgrade."
Aleksander opened it: a sleek transparent phone, glass plane encased in a rounded-rectangle black band. It activated with holographic displays flickering to life.
John adjusted his glasses, voice gruff with pride. "Super processing core—handles petabytes in seconds. Full AI suite: predictive analytics, real-time threat scanning, unhackable quantum encryption. Try losing it; the AI will find you first."
Janet leaned in with a wry smile. "It also has some cool features, especially for your new detective work."
She added proudly, "Heard you solved high-level cases. So proud."Aleksander smiled, pocketing the device.
The family settled around the table. Grigori took the head, clearing his throat. The meeting began.
Grigori leaned forward at the head of the table, his weather-beaten face grave as the room's artifacts seemed to loom larger in the chandelier light. He tugged his beard once, then launched in with that gravelly authority."Right, family—settle in. This isn't chit-chat. That 'accident' I survived years back? The one where the driver 'accidentally' rammed his car into us, trying to push us down the mountain road? Wasn't chance. Pre-planned hit. And now we've traced it."
He paused, letting the weight sink in, eyes scanning each face. "The ones behind it: 3900-year-old bloodline families. They call themselves the Illuminati. Hold sway worldwide—shadow networks in governments, banks, tech. You know some by name: Rockefellers, Windsors... and that's just the surface."
Murmurs rippled around the table. Minerva's bun seemed tighter, John's spectacles glinted as he adjusted them sharply, Janet's wavy hair caught the light while she frowned thoughtfully.
Grigori continued, voice steady. "They're resurfacing, targeting old threats like us. Information brokers, tech innovators—we know too much. That's why you're all here."
Minerva straightened, her voice crisp with McGonagall precision. "They've likely set eyes on Aleksander already. Nevermore's no secret—Outcasts like him draw their kind. We've intercepted chatter."John snorted, pushing up his spectacles. "Amateurs. My scans picked up anomalous signals near the academy last month—encrypted bursts, not local tech."
Janet nodded, her silver-streaked hair shifting. "Probably probing for weaknesses. If they're Illuminati-grade, they're testing the family edges."
Aleksander leaned in, new phone humming faintly in his pocket. Ilya frowned protectively, while Jane smirked, mind already whirring.
Grigori rapped the table, locking eyes with Aleksander. "That's why I called you here personally, lad. Warn you about these Illuminati dangers. They're no ragtag cult—highly intelligent, ambitious bastards. Manipulate markets, topple regimes from the shadows. Cross them, and they don't stop at accidents."
Jane spoke up smoothly, that Mentalist glint in his eye. "Aleksander's smart and strong enough to spot any of their puppets. After all, his empathy and telepathy are powerful."
Cassandra nodded firmly. "Now we should worry about how to take these families out."
Ilya leaned forward, voice measured. "But that's the problem. Although Rothschilds and Rockefellers parade public images of their family members—all fakes. The real ones are hiding somewhere else."
Grigori grunted agreement, he then added gruffly, tugging his beard. "Yeah, even for our information network, it's hard to pin them all. These families have been around over 3000 years—the networks and fortunes they've gathered? Immense."
Aleksander absorbed it all, then spoke evenly. "But I have a feeling they won't pull any stunts for a while. After all, their plan with Grandpa failed. For a family that's survived so long through caution—even paranoia—they'll probably wait for a better chance."
Jane nodded, smirking faintly. "I agree with him. Our family are no small fries—they're probably wary about revealing themselves for a full-on confrontation. They're likely just watching and waiting for now."
The room hung on that assessment, chandelier light flickering across tense faces.