The darkness around me was thick, almost tangible. I wasn't falling or floating—just existing in this inky nothingness.

  Ahead flickered a greenish light. Dim, sickly, like foxfire in a damp forest. I reached toward it, feeling the darkness resist.

  The light took the shape of a narrow tunnel leading downward. Its walls weren't stone—they pulsed as if alive. Their surface shifted, breathed, reformed itself.

  I moved forward, touching the wall with my hand. It was warm and elastic, like flesh. Strange symbols emerged under my fingers—they glowed with the same greenish light and seemed to move on their own, forming patterns that immediately fell apart.

  The tunnel suddenly narrowed, squeezing around me. I held my breath, feeling panic. The living walls pressed, pulsed, pulled me deeper.

  "Further... deeper..." they whispered soundlessly.

  Suddenly the space expanded. I found myself in an enormous cave. The ceiling vanished into darkness, from which hung not stalactites but tentacles—motionless, petrified, but seeming ready to come alive at any moment.

  In the center of the cave on an elevation stood a black sarcophagus with red veins. Symbols crawled across its surface—the same ones I'd seen on the walls. They moved like ants, forming and destroying patterns.

  Between the symbols an image emerged: a giant worm coiling around a human figure. Not threateningly, but... protectively? Or merging with it?

  The sarcophagus called to me. Not with sound, not with words—just pulled, like a magnet.

  I reached out and touched the lid. A chorus of whispers exploded in my head:

  "...find us..." "...we wait..." "...underground, where darkness becomes flesh..." "...your power never left..."

  The surface under my palm cracked. From the cracks seeped not liquid—living darkness, thick and viscous. It wrapped around my fingers, crawled up my arm, absorbed into my skin.

  "Finally," something behind me whispered in my voice. I jumped up, gasping. My heart pounded against my ribs. My shirt was soaked with sweat. For several seconds I just breathed, trying to calm down. My gaze fell on my hands. Clean. But my skin itched, as if something moved beneath it.

  I turned on the nightlight and noticed an open notebook on the nightstand. I didn't remember taking it out before bed. On the page—a drawing. Curved lines like a map. Tunnel, cave, sarcophagus. The same symbols I'd seen in the dream. And a worm coiling around a human figure. My fingers were stained with ink. I slammed the notebook shut. What the hell?

  Cold water brought me somewhat to my senses. A stranger stared back from the mirror—pale, with circles under his eyes and a hard gaze. Not at all the naive guy who'd entered the Academy.

  I quickly dressed, buttoning up the gray experimental class uniform. The color of uncertainty, as Professor Tyler had said yesterday.

  Tying my boots, I mentally reviewed the members of the new class. A week until the expedition. Just one week to turn a group of distrustful loners into a team.

  After hesitating, I shoved the notebook into my bag. Maybe Mira with her psychometry could say something.

  The dormitory corridors were empty. Most students were still asleep. I always got up early—a habit left from the Valdbergs.

  Stepping outside, I froze for a moment, breathing in the fresh air. The Academy was especially beautiful in early autumn—golden leaves, morning mist over the meadows.

  I took the long way through the garden. I needed to think before meeting the new class.

  "Caers? Why are you up so early?"

  I turned around. Kyle Ford, already in uniform, was leaving the training pavilion. Sweat streamed down his face.

  "Habit. You training?"

  "Someone has to compensate for the lack of magic. Not everyone's used to relying only on strength."

  There was challenge in his voice. But I decided not to take the bait and just nodded.

  "Smart. Maybe I'll join you tomorrow."

  Kyle squinted, as if checking whether I was mocking him.

  "As you like. Just don't complain afterward that it hurts."

  He headed toward the dormitory. I continued my path to the east wing.

  The morning wind whispered in the leaves. For a moment I thought I heard the voices from my dream again:

  "...find us...below..."

  My hand twitched involuntarily, and I noticed with alarm a thin dark line sliding under my skin—like a tiny worm moving through my veins. When I blinked, the vision disappeared. But the feeling of an alien presence in my own body remained. Something was calling me. Something hidden deep underground. And it was becoming more insistent.

  The classroom greeted me with silence. I entered first, even before the professor.

  Through the tall windows of the east wing, slanted sunbeams fell, making dust motes dance in the air. I chose a seat in the center of the semicircle of desks and took out my notes.

  Mira appeared next—silently, as if she materialized from shadows. Strange for someone whose gift wasn't connected to invisibility.

  "Good morning. Nightmares again?"

  I tensed.

  "What makes you think that?"

  "Your hand's trembling, circles under your eyes. And your notes are upside down. Obviously didn't sleep well."

  I flipped the notebook over, annoyed at my inattention.

  "Do you always watch people like that?"

  "Professional habit. My parents work in law enforcement. You learn to notice details."

  Her tone was casual, but her gaze was sharp, studying.

  Aris seeped into the classroom, moving along the walls where shadows were thicker. He looked paler than usual, if that was even possible.

  "Couldn't sleep again?"

  Mira didn't look up from her book.

  Aris flinched as if struck.

  "A bit... difficult. Too much light in my room."

  "Talk to the warden, have them move you to a room on the north side."

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "Or just move into a closet," Kyle chuckled, entering the classroom. "It's dark and cozy. Perfect for you."

  Aris unexpectedly smiled at the corner of his mouth.

  "Already tried. The warden evicted me. Said closets are for skeletons in them, not students hiding in them."

  He sat in the darkest corner and buried himself in his notes.

  Kyle crossed the classroom, noisily pulling out a chair. After morning training he'd managed to change into clean uniform, but still radiated a fighter's energy.

  "Everyone here already? Where's our witch and the bloody aristocrat?"

  The door opened again, and Val slipped into the classroom.

  "Behind you, peasant."

  "Learn to watch your back if you plan to survive the expedition."

  Tara entered last, carrying an armful of plants. A strange tart smell emanated from them.

  "Don't mind these. They're for restoration potions. If we're going into the mines, better to prepare in advance."

  Professor Tyler appeared exactly with the bell's strike. His stern gaze swept the classroom.

  "I see everyone's here. Excellent. Today we begin preparation for the expedition."

  He opened the register.

  "First, you'll need to demonstrate your abilities. In field conditions you must know what each team member is capable of."

  Kyle snorted.

  "You really think we'll mesh in a week?"

  "No, Mr. Ford. I think you're capable of not killing each other in a week. Those are different things."

  He closed the register.

  "Training dummies and practice golems await you at the training ground. Each will demonstrate their skills. Mr. Caers, as leader you'll evaluate the team's strengths and weaknesses."

  "Since when can a broken one evaluate anything?"

  Val whispered, but clearly wanted the words to reach me.

  I turned to him.

  "Better magic that was lost than blood you lose every time you cast."

  My smile was as cold as his gaze.

  "Decided to test whose patience runs out first?"

  "Enough."

  Professor Tyler knocked on the desk.

  "The complex in a week. You're free to dislike each other, but obligated to work together."

  "Maybe we should at least know what we're dealing with? I mean, in detail. What complex? What demons? Why us specifically?"

  The professor grimaced.

  "Why doesn't the appointed captain explain everything to you?"

  I was taken aback that he was dodging answers, throwing them to me. Everyone stared as if I alone had been given candy and they hadn't.

  "Uh... Ahem, complexes, as far as I remember, are otherworlder structures where we trained. There's a whole labyrinth: many rooms with demons. From what Elliot told me, complexes are now scattered across the country, and they look less and less like buildings."

  Val quickly reacted to my words.

  "Hold on. Something's wrong here, why are there so many, and why scatter them across the country? Wouldn't it be better to keep them all closer to academies? Plus they give us assignments far away while the chosen class doesn't leave the Academy."

  "You're mistaken, Mr. Norse. The chosen class gets such assignments too."

  Kyle objected.

  "They trained together for almost a year!"

  "You have other advantages. Each of you was chosen for an unusual gift. Together you represent a unique combination of abilities."

  "We know nothing about each other."

  I wanted to speak up too.

  "Then you'll learn. The training ground awaits."

  The grounds were an extensive open-air space surrounded by high walls. In the center stood dummies and golems of various sizes. Some were motionless, others slowly moved about.

  "Who's first?"

  "Me."

  Kyle stepped forward.

  "Let's see what these dolls can do."

  He clenched his fists, and I noticed the air around his hands trembled slightly—very weak magic, barely noticeable.

  "My specialty is that I can barely cast. But I can shut down others' magic."

  He approached the nearest golem—a heavy stone figure twice human height.

  The professor understood what Kyle wanted to do and shouted:

  "Activate."

  The golem's eyes flashed blue, and it swung at the student.

  He easily dodged, and the stone fist slammed into the ground. The golem turned for a new attack, but Kyle was already beside it. He touched the golem's leg, and the blue glow in the monster's eyes flickered.

  The stone giant froze mid-step, then slowly, as if in slow motion, began toppling forward.

  Kyle jumped back, letting the golem crash face-first.

  "I block magic flow for a short time. Works great against weak demons. With strong ones... harder."

  "Translation: he grabs anything that moves and prays it shuts off before it tears his arm off," Val commented.

  "Impressive. Who's next?"

  Val stepped forward, unhurriedly removing his gloves.

  "I'll show what real magic is."

  He pulled out a small knife and made a thin cut on his palm. The blood didn't flow—it gathered into a small ball hovering above his hand.

  "Blood is the perfect conductor of magic. It contains life force and ancestral memory."

  He directed the blood ball at one of the dummies. It was instantly wrapped in thin red threads. Val clenched his fist, and the threads tightened, tearing the dummy apart.

  "I can control my blood at a distance. Create barriers, attack, temporarily enhance my physical capabilities."

  He turned to Kyle.

  "Want to try blocking?"

  He just snorted.

  "Don't want to get dirty. But in the complex we can test it if we hit a dead end."

  Tara stepped forward with a small pouch.

  "I work differently." She pulled out several vials. "Potions, infusions, brews—my specialization."

  She threw one vial at another golem. The glass shattered, bursting into green fire that instantly wrapped the stone figure. The golem froze, entwined with strange shoots resembling vines.

  "This compound immobilizes for several minutes. There are others—for healing, enhancement, temporary speed or strength boosts. But each needs to be prepared in advance."

  "Useful. How many potions can you carry?"

  I was already starting to piece together the team's overall picture. We had enormous potential.

  "Under normal conditions—about a dozen different ones. But I can improvise if I find the right ingredients."

  Mira stepped up next, quiet and unnoticeable. She approached the dummy fragments Val had destroyed and touched one of the pieces. For an instant her eyes widened, then she grimaced.

  "Psychometry—reading objects' histories through touch. I can learn what happened to an object, who touched it, what emotions were connected to it."

  She looked around the grounds.

  "In combat it's not as useful, but for reconnaissance and information gathering—perfect. I can tell who was in a room, what they did, where they went."

  Someone from the crowd spoke up.

  "And what did you read just now?"

  "This is training dummy B-14. It was used for fourth-year battle mage training. Two months ago student Hogan accidentally exploded the neighboring dummy, and this one got damaged. They fixed it but slapped on a new label."

  Professor Tyler raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  "Absolutely correct, Miss Last. Impressive."

  Aris hesitantly stepped forward, staying in the shadow of one wall.

  "I need less light."

  The professor shook his head negatively.

  Aris sighed. Then he made a strange gesture, and his shadow... separated from him.

  A dark silhouette, similar to Aris but with blurred edges, moved away from him and approached the third golem. The shadow attacked, seeping through gaps in the stone armor. The golem made a strange grinding sound and froze.

  Aris spoke very quietly and shyly.

  "I can create material shadows. They penetrate obstacles, I can attack or scout with them. In darkness I'm stronger... But in sunlight almost helpless."

  He looked at me anxiously.

  "Underground I'll be... comfortable."

  I surveyed the team. Each was unique in their own way. Each hid their fears and hopes.

  "My turn."

  Kyle laughed.

  "What will you show, Caers? How to spectacularly lose power?"

  "No. How to fight without it."

  I approached the last golem—the largest.

  "Activate full combat mode."

  The golem glowed brighter, its movements became sharper, more precise. It attacked immediately, without warning.

  I slipped under the stone fist, rolled through and ended up behind the golem's back. Jumping up, I struck at the junction point of neck and shoulder—where the magical lines were most vulnerable.

  The golem spun, throwing its arm back, but I'd already left the line of attack. Two strikes to the knee joints, one precise to the center of the chest where the magical core was located.

  The glow in the golem's eyes flickered and went out. It froze, deactivated.

  I turned to the team, breathing heavily.

  "Being a mage doesn't mean relying only on magic. Even without a gift you can be useful."

  "Knowing the enemy's weak points is also strength," Mira quietly supported, and Kyle nodded thoughtfully.

  "Not bad for a former chosen one. But training golems are one thing, real demons another."

  "We'll find out soon."

  For a moment it seemed like a dark line slid under my skin again—like the worm from my dream. Something was waiting for us there. Something ancient and hungry. And it was calling me by name.