The lock clicked in the darkness.
Adrian woke instantly, heart racing. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was. Then the stone walls of the cell came into focus, and everything rushed back.
The door opened, and Marcus stood silhouetted in the corridor lamplight.
"Up. Now."
Adrian sat up, blinking away sleep. His ribs still ached from yesterday's beating. "What time is it?"
"Early enough that no one else will see us. Move."
Private training. Away from the others. Is that better or worse?
Adrian stood and followed Marcus into the corridor. The headquarters was silent except for their footsteps echoing off stone. They walked through passages Adrian hadn't seen before, going deeper into the building.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere we can work without interruption."
They descended another staircase. These stairs were older than the ones leading to the cells. The walls were rough stone and the air smelled of damp.
He's taking me somewhere isolated. Somewhere no one would hear anything.
But Adrian kept walking. He had no choice. Refusing meant going back to his cell until the Vigil decided he was too dangerous to keep alive.
They reached a heavy wooden door at the bottom of the stairs. Marcus pushed it open.
The room beyond was large and empty. Stone floor. Stone walls. Practice weapons hung on racks along one side. Wooden staffs. Blunted swords. Training knives. No windows. The only light came from oil lamps mounted in iron brackets.
"This is where I trained when I was an Initiate," Marcus said, closing the door behind them. "Before they built the new facilities upstairs."
He walked to the centre of the room and turned to face Adrian.
"Before I can teach you to hunt, you need to survive five minutes against me."
Adrian's stomach dropped. "What?"
"Five minutes. Hand to hand. No abilities. Just you and me." Marcus began removing his coat. "If you can't survive that, you're no use to the Vigil."
He's going to test me. Push me. See what I can do.
"I can barely survive against Julian."
"Julian is Stage 1 like you. I'm Stage 3." Marcus hung his coat on a peg. "The creatures you'll hunt won't go easy on you because you're new. Neither will I."
He rolled his shoulders and gestured for Adrian to approach. "Come. Show me what you know."
Adrian walked forward slowly. His ribs protested with each step. Yesterday's bruises hadn't fully healed yet.
This is going to hurt.
"Ready?" Marcus asked.
"I don't think—"
Marcus moved.
One moment he was standing still. The next he was in Adrian's face, hand shooting forward.
Adrian tried to block. Marcus's palm struck his chest and sent him stumbling backward.
"Guard up," Marcus said. "Always guard up."
Adrian raised his hands. Marcus came at him again, a testing jab to the face. Adrian blocked this time, but Marcus's follow-up kick caught him in the thigh.
His leg went numb. He nearly fell.
"Feet shoulder width apart. You're standing too narrow."
Marcus swept his leg. Adrian went down hard, back hitting stone.
"Get up."
Adrian pushed himself to his feet. His hands were already shaking.
It's been thirty seconds. Four and a half minutes left.
Marcus attacked again. A combination Adrian couldn't follow. Punches to body and head. A knee strike. A throw that sent Adrian crashing into the floor again.
"Watch my shoulders. They move before I strike. Get up."
Adrian got up. His nose was bleeding. He could taste copper.
Marcus closed the distance and demonstrated in slow motion. "See? Shoulder dips before the punch. Hips rotate before the kick. Watch the body, not the hands."
He sped up. "Again."
The next four minutes were brutal.
Marcus would attack, Adrian would fail to defend, and Marcus would stop and correct. Show him where his stance was wrong. Where his guard dropped. How he was telegraphing his movements.
Then they'd go again.
Adrian took more hits than he could count. His ribs screamed. His face throbbed. His arms felt like lead from holding his guard up.
But something strange was happening.
The pain was there but it was distant. His body kept moving even when it should have given out. The bruises from yesterday were fading faster than they should.
The binding. It's making me tougher. Stronger.
"Time," Marcus said finally.
Adrian collapsed to his knees, gasping. Sweat poured off him. His shirt was soaked through.
Marcus walked to the wall and took a water skin from a hook. He drank, then tossed it to Adrian.
Adrian caught it clumsily and drank. The water was cold and tasted like heaven.
"You lasted," Marcus said.
"I didn't do anything except get hit."
"You got up every time. That's something." Marcus studied him with that clinical look. "Your ribs. The ones Julian broke yesterday. Show me."
Adrian lifted his shirt. The bruises were still visible but they'd faded from deep purple to yellow-green.
Marcus's eyes narrowed. "Those should take three more days to heal. At least."
"I heal fast."
"Too fast. Even for a Stage 1 practitioner." Marcus crouched down to Adrian's level. "What else?"
"What do you mean?"
"What else is different? Enhanced healing is one thing. What else has changed since the binding?"
He's interrogating me. Every lesson is also an interrogation.
"I'm stronger. I noticed yesterday. Things that should hurt more don't hurt as much."
"Enhanced durability. Standard for practitioners." Marcus stood. "But the healing rate is unusual. And you're adapting faster than you should."
"Is that bad?"
"That depends on what's causing it." Marcus walked back to his coat. "Rest five minutes. Then we go again."
Adrian stared. "Again?"
"You think five minutes of combat is enough? We train until you can't stand. Then we train more." Marcus pulled a pocket watch from his coat. "You have five minutes. Use them."
Adrian lay back on the cold stone floor and tried to catch his breath, but underneath the pain was something else.
Energy. Raw and restless. The binding was doing more than healing him. It was changing him.
Marcus noticed. Of course, he noticed. He notices everything.
But he's still teaching me. That means he hasn't decided I'm a threat. Not yet.
Five minutes passed too quickly.
"Up," Marcus called.
Adrian forced himself to stand.
The next hour was more of the same. Marcus would attack. Adrian would try to defend. Marcus would correct his mistakes, and they'd go again.
But slowly, painfully, Adrian started to improve. He blocked a punch he would have missed before. Saw Marcus's shoulder dip and managed to lean away from the strike. Held his stance even when Marcus tried to sweep his legs.
Small victories. But victories nonetheless.
"Enough," Marcus said finally.
Adrian was on the floor again. He couldn't remember falling. His vision swam and his entire body felt like one giant bruise.
Marcus looked down at him with that same evaluating expression.
"You're raw. Undisciplined. Weak." He paused. "But you learn quickly."
He offered his hand. Adrian took it and let Marcus pull him upright.
"Tomorrow, same time. Don't be late."
"Will we do this every day?"
"Until you can last ten minutes. Then fifteen. Then thirty." Marcus walked to the door. "Eventually, you'll be able to hold your own against Julian. Maybe even beat him."
"How long will that take?"
"For a normal Initiate? Months. For you?" Marcus glanced back. "We'll see."
He opened the door and gestured for Adrian to follow.
They walked back through the dark passages in silence. Adrian's legs barely cooperated. Everything hurt in new and creative ways.
When they reached his cell, Marcus unlocked the door but didn't open it immediately.
"A word of advice. Don't tell the others about these sessions."
"Why not?"
"Because Julian will see it as special treatment. The rest will wonder why you're improving so fast." Marcus opened the door. "Better if they think you're just naturally talented. Or lucky."
He's protecting me.
But why?
"Get some rest. Eat when breakfast comes. You'll need your strength."
The door closed. The lock clicked.
Adrian stood in the centre of his cell for a long moment. Then his legs gave out, and he sat down hard on the bed.
His body was a mess. His mind was racing. But underneath it all was something new.
Hope.
Marcus was brutal and clinical and probably still reporting everything to Caspian. But he was teaching Adrian to survive. Teaching him to fight.
And for the first time since the explosion, Adrian felt like he might actually live through this.
He lay back on the narrow bed and stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, same time.
I'll be ready.
His eyes closed, and exhaustion dragged him under.
In the darkness, his bruises continued to heal at a rate that would have alarmed Doctor Rhys.
But no one was watching. No one saw.
Just the shadows in the corners of the cell.
And the shadows, it seemed, were patient.