By the time the tram arrived in the city centre, Lucian's eyes felt heavier than rock.
The doors hissed open, spilling commuters out onto the platform, a tsunami of tired faces. Lucian followed Blackwood closely in their wake, the older man walking with his usual brisk, yet dignified pace.
They left the station behind and went into the main city. It looked like a different world compared to the district he had grown up in, with wider roads, cleaner and more modern buildings.
The police headquarters was a few streets away, sticking out like a sore thumb. Its stone facade and narrow, slit-like windows gave it the look of a modern fortress more than an office. Its sharp and unforgiving architecture made it seem almost aggressive.
"Charming place," Lucian muttered.
"Quite," Blackwood replied. "Do try not to antagonise anyone with a firearm."
Two uniformed officers stood at the top of the stairs, weapons slung over their shoulders, eyes steadily assessing people passing by. They straightened slightly as the pair approached, eyes filled with vigilance.
"Morning," one said, looking Lucian's clothes up and down. "If you're looking for a job, kid, I'm sorry to tell you we aren't recruiting junior inspectors anymore."
Blackwood's mouth twitched.
"Regrettable," he said mildly. "No, I'm afraid we have rather more serious business."
The officer's eyes narrowed a fraction before waving them inside. "Right. Inside, then. Receptions just over on the left."
Inside, the air was cool and dry. The lobby was spacious but simple, lined with metal benches. A large NQSC police logo hung on the far wall. In the centre, a reception desk was manned by an officer hunched over a stack of forms. He looked up as they approached, assessing them.
"Station tours are on Thursdays," he said. "And we don't do internships."
Lucian and Blackwood exchanged a tired glance at each other. Did everyone really need to make the same joke?
"Algernon Blackwood," the Director said, ignoring it. "Here to report my ward as a confirmed carrier of the Nightmare Spell, in accordance with the Third Special Directive."
The officer's eyes widened, his hunched back straightening. The easy sarcasm was gone, replaced by something sharp and focused. He looked Lucian over again, assessing him.
"Understood," he said. His voice had gone flatly professional. "Name and age?"
"Lucian," Lucian replied. "Sixteen."
"How long since you noticed any symptoms?"
"Just under a week."
"The officer paled at that, already reaching for his shoulder mic.
"Code Black in the front lobby," he barked into it. "Get me a team in here, NOW!"
He turned back to them.
"You've done the right thing," he said. Team'll be here shortly. We'll take it from here."
A few seconds later, heavy footsteps approached from one of the side corridors. A small squad of officers appeared, armour plates fitted over their uniforms, visors raised. Their weapons were strapped in their holsters.
Before the team could ask Lucian to walk over, Blackwood touched his arm. He shifted to stand directly in front of him.
"Do you remember what i told you," he asked quietly.
Lucian nodded.
Blackwood's eyes lingered on his face, as if searching for something, before he pulled Lucian into a firm embrace. Lucian could have sworn the old man's eyes seemed shinier than before.
"Don't worry so much, old man," he laughed. "If you think about it, I can either live or die, which puts me at a solid 50% chance of surviving."
Blackwood gave a small exasperated sigh before stepping back.
"Go on," he murmured. "Best not keep them waiting."
Lucian turned away before his eyes could act up; It seemed like the station too had lots of dust. He let the officers form a loose ring around him, and they walked towards a bank of elevators at the back of the lobby.
The ride down was quiet. He watched the floor numbers slowly tick lower, each feeling like a punch to the gut. His limbs felt heavier by the second, the urging of the Spell becoming stronger.
The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing a corridor flooded with harsh white light. Lucian sniffed a few times; it smelled faintly of disinfectant. Their footsteps seemed to echo as they escorted him forward.
They stopped in front of a door thick enough to pass for a back vault; it seemed thicker than Lucian's entire head. He was quickly brought inside and strapped into a metal gurney, a cross between a hospital bed and a straitjacket.
Lucian took the opportunity to look around the room. It was surprisingly bare. The walls were padded with grey plating, an unfamiliar alloy he guessed, bolted tightly to the wall. The officers who had escorted him down took up positions around the edges of the room, weapons in hand but pointed at the floor. Some watched him with pity. Others looked elsewhere, indifferent.
To Lucian, it was already starting to blur at the edges. He stared up at the ceiling; his eyelids ached.
'How hard could it be?' he told himself. 'People survive all the time.'
After what felt like eternity, but was really 5 minutes. The door opened again.
A grey-haired officer strode in, the sort of man who looked like he was born already saluting. Beside him, another boy was present; he looked Lucian up and down before he, too, was quickly strapped into an identical gurney.
The boy looked younger than Lucian had expected. He was short, pale, with messy black hair that lay plastered to his forehead. He was positioned parallel to Lucian.
The grey-haired officer leaned over the pale boy, his thin lips moving soundlessly as he spoke. The boy responded, sometimes shifting in his restraints, sometimes shaking his head. Lucian strained to hear, but their voices seemed impossibly far away, a muffled hum he couldn't make out. As he watched, seconds bled into a haze of exhaustion. Lucian's head lolled to the side. His eyelids felt heavier than steel. Sleep called to him, snaring him in its embrace, pulling him deeper and deeper. The world began to blur into a dark smudge.
Lucian felt his eyes close, and then in the darkness, a voice spoke with a cold clarity.
[Aspirant! Welcome to the Nightmare Spell. Prepare for your First Trial...]