Luke's eyes snapped open to the sound of a heavy bang. His heart lurched in his chest as he groggily pushed himself up, disoriented. The sound echoed in the darkness of his room, a sharp thud that felt too close, too unnatural to be anything familiar. The room around him was still, the air thick with an unfamiliar tension.
His head ached, a dull throb behind his eyes, as though he had been asleep for hours, but the memory of what had happened before—his meeting with Isla, the lycan in the grove—was still fresh in his mind. He remembered the strange pull, the awakening of something deep within him, something he couldn't yet understand.
But now, as his senses sharpened and his surroundings started to come into focus, a strange chill crept down his spine.
The room was too quiet. Too dark.
A sharp knock sounded again—bang—louder this time. Luke's pulse spiked as he slowly got out of bed, his mind racing. It wasn't like anyone had come to visit him; he hadn't heard a single noise before.
Then, just as he was about to reach for the door, it flung open with startling force.
A figure stood in the doorway, cloaked in black, a mask covering its face. The uniform was stark, its sharp lines betraying the military precision of whoever stood there.
"Luke Fairweather," the voice was cold, monotone. A woman, but her voice held no warmth, no humanity. "Come with us."
Before Luke could react, a second figure appeared behind the first, this one larger, more imposing. A man, his shoulders broad and his stance even more intimidating. His hands reached out to grab Luke by the arms before he could protest.
"Wait—what's going on?!" Luke demanded, his voice shaky but desperate. "Who are you? What's happening?"
The woman didn't answer. Instead, she took a step forward, pulling a small device from her belt and aiming it directly at Luke's chest. The device hummed to life, releasing a burst of faint light.
A strange wave of dizziness hit him instantly. His head spun, his limbs feeling heavy and uncoordinated. The room around him started to tilt, the walls blurring as though his vision was swimming in a thick fog.
"Stop!" Luke tried to shout, but his voice was drowned out by the overwhelming pressure in his skull.
His legs gave way beneath him, and before he could try to steady himself, he crumpled to the floor. The last thing he saw was the masked figures looming over him, their presence cold and unyielding.
---
When Luke woke again, it was to a strange, disorienting emptiness. His body was still heavy, his limbs unresponsive, but he could hear the sound of people moving around him. He could feel the faint hum of machinery, the steady pulse of engines, and the rhythmic clicking of boots on metal.
It took him a moment to realize he was no longer in his room.
His surroundings were entirely unfamiliar. His vision slowly cleared, and he found himself lying on a hard, cold surface. The floor beneath him was sleek and metallic, and the walls were high, smooth, and dimly lit.
Before he could sit up, a sharp click sounded nearby, followed by a heavy clunk of a door opening. Several figures in black uniforms moved toward him. Each one was wearing a mask, their features obscured.
The woman from before knelt beside him, her gloved hands pulling him upright as she spoke in a clipped tone. "You're awake. Good."
"What… where am I?" Luke's voice was hoarse, his mouth dry. "What did you do to me?"
The woman ignored his question. Instead, she reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a small, sleek mask. She held it out to him, the thin metallic material gleaming in the low light.
"Put it on," she commanded. "Now."
Luke recoiled instinctively. "I'm not—"
The man beside him reached down, grabbing his wrist in a grip that was strong and unyielding. "Put. It. On," he repeated, his voice a growl of authority. There was no room for argument in his tone.
Fear gnawed at Luke's gut, but a strange, forceful compulsion seemed to settle over him, pushing away his resistance. With trembling hands, he took the mask from the woman and pressed it against his face.
The instant it made contact with his skin, the world around him seemed to blur. His thoughts were scattered, his head spinning as if his body had been injected with a force that was both foreign and heavy.
And then, nothing.
---
When Luke woke again, it wasn't in the same disorienting haze. This time, he was fully conscious, but everything around him felt strange, foreign. He was no longer lying down, but seated, though his limbs were still stiff, as if the sedative had left him in a state of sluggishness.
As his senses returned, he realized that he wasn't alone. Isla was beside him, though she appeared just as dazed as he felt. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with confusion, but there was something else there too—something darker, a sense of unease that mirrored his own.
"What happened?" Luke whispered, his voice rough.
"I… I don't know," Isla muttered, her fingers brushing over her mask in disbelief. "One minute, we were talking, and the next… we're here. Where is here?"
Luke glanced around them. The room they were in was dark, cold, and utterly unfamiliar. The air smelled sterile, and the walls were made of metal panels, some of which were flashing with blinking lights. The floor beneath them was the same sleek, polished material he had felt before.
But there was no time to dwell on it. A group of masked figures stood at attention near the far end of the room, as if waiting for something. The woman who had spoken to him earlier stepped forward once more, her movements precise and sharp.
"You are in the Academy," she said flatly, her voice cold and emotionless. "From this moment forward, you are cadets under our care. You will train. You will learn. And you will comply."
Luke and Isla exchanged a glance, both of them feeling a deep sense of dread coil in their stomachs.
The woman's gaze hardened. "Remove your masks. You won't need them here. And get ready. This is only the beginning."
---
The moment they removed their masks, the world seemed to shift. Luke's vision sharpened, and he could feel the weight of his own body again. But there was a new sense of unease in the air, a feeling that they were being watched, that their every move was being scrutinized.
Without warning, they were escorted from the room, their steps heavy and reluctant. The two masked soldiers led them down narrow hallways, their faces unreadable behind the black masks.
Everything around them was clinical, devoid of warmth. The walls were lined with what looked like security panels, and every corner seemed to be monitored by hidden cameras.
They arrived at a large, sterile chamber—a testing room. Luke could feel his stomach churn with dread. What were they going to do to them now?
The woman in charge turned to face them. "In this room, you will be tested. Your abilities will be evaluated. But be warned… we will not tolerate failure."
"Abilities?" Luke echoed, his voice shaking. "What do you mean?"
The woman didn't answer. Instead, she gestured to a row of machines at the far side of the room. "You will begin your tests shortly. I suggest you brace yourselves. Failure to comply will result in consequences."
Isla grabbed Luke's arm as they were led to the machines. Her voice was low, just a whisper in his ear. "Luke… do you feel anything? Is anything happening to you?"
Luke shook his head, but inside, he felt a strange, unsettling pull. It was as though something deep within him was stirring, but not in the way he'd hoped.
No power. Nothing.
But there was one thing that he couldn't shake.
They weren't here for training. They weren't here to help.
They were here to break them.
---
N